#this brush texture brings me joy

[bobthedragon]

Character portraits for Kingsgate of the boys \UwU/!

the goggles up version of Kid is actually not supposed to be used until chapter 2 but it's way more fun than the goggles down version so y'all can have a little spoiler as a treat

link to the comic: https://kingsgatecomic.com

[plzu]

exposure therapy but it's just me using the hard round brush to draw until it no longer gives me the ick

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

[vampiric-hunger]

𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕤

pair: Lord Astarion x female! vampire/tiefling !reader

tags: no y/n is used, rating - e, smut, predator/prey, vampiric shapeshifting, chasing, fear play, non-consensual blood brinking, compulsion, light bondage, dubcon, knifeplay, praise kink, asphyxiation, mild degradation, begging, object insertion, cunnilingus, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal fingering, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, grinding, overstimulation, PiV, face-fucking, cum swallowing, blood drinking, plot what plot

summary: it was supposed to be just a little game: you run, he chases. fun, innocent, maybe a little childish. but as you rush through the forest, doubt starts nagging at you and fear begins to grip you. what if this not a game anymore, not to Astarion anyway? unsure of what happens when he finally catches up with you, you run - you run as if your life depends on it.

word count: 8,096

a/n: a gift fic written as reward for winning the raffle that i ran on this blog to celebrate the follower count! hope the wait was worth it and thank you for supporting my work ♡~ and as always - please enjoy♡

for @eldritch-rat ♡ congratulations on winning!

The night is cold but you barely feel it as you rush among the trees. From time to time you stop, craning your neck to look behind you, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of him. You agreed to play this little game and you had your fun so far, rushing through the forest, not knowing when he might catch you. It started as innocent fun. Catch me if you can, you told him before your feet quickly took you through the brush, weaving the flora of the forest you two settled nearby couple days ago.

You wanted to travel, so you travel, with Astarion by your side making sure that you experience the very best your new lives have in stock for you. Days and nights alike are filled with all the flavors and joys Faerûn has to offer even while you’re on the road, but nothing brings you greater joy than knowing you belong to your lover.

Still, you begin to wonder if you ran too fast or too far for him to catch up, but surely for a Vampire Ascendant it is not troublesome to find his ‘lost’ consort? You stop by a tree, placing your hand on a rough texture of it and turn to look over your shoulder, seeing just tree trunks and faint wisps of fog. Your eyes sweep over the area in a different direction but still nothing. Nothing at all stands out and you frown, pressing your lips into a thin line, wondering where Astarion could be. Why you don’t hear any footsteps, why you don’t hear him calling for you? It was supposed to be fun, he was supposed to catch you quickly, so why he’s nowhere to be seen?

You exhale slowly, listening best to your ability but you can’t hear even a single dry branch break, the forest is silent as a grave and a nagging thought gets into your head – what if he just let you run without actually following? You flush at the idea of embarrassing yourself like this but you’re determined to keep going, because you are sure Astarion wouldn’t do that to you. And least of all he wouldn’t let you wander too far from him, not when you’re still so new as a vampire. Neither of you have figured out your full abilities yet and Astarion is adamant on keeping you close as much as possible. No, he wouldn’t let you just run off into strange woods without making sure that you won’t end up in trouble.

With renewed determination you turn your eyes in front of you and begin walking, slower this time instead of running, listening for any sound that could reach your ears while your tail remains just as tense as the rest of your body. Your eyes keep looking, searching the darkness but you only can see this far without any additional aid of torch or a lantern.

It takes you a while to notice that the fog is getting thicker, heavier and you begin to wonder if you should head back. How long this has been going on for? Half an hour? An hour? With no Astarion in sight you’re feeling bored and slightly annoyed. He’s probably enjoying himself watching you wander aimlessly and try to avoid him when you’re not even sure he’s here.

Wait, what is this fog? You realize it feels strange. Yes, it’s obscuring your view but why you don’t feel any humidity on your skin from it. You stop again, moving your hand through the thin slivers in front of you as if that could help you determine the nature of it.

And then you hear something – a flutter of wings. Your head snaps in a perceived direction of the sound but you’re not sure if it’s the correct one. Still, your body tenses even more, your tail stiffens and your spine bends forwards just enough to make sure you can sprint if you need to. Again, the sound of wings, another direction, as if an owl or a crow is flying from tree to tree, and you realize that in the stillness of the forest it can only be Astarion.

Can it be him? He can’t control his powers fully yet, some things he can do just as you can, climb the ceilings, call upon wolves, but changing shapes is something neither of you yet truly mastered. Still, somehow you know it can only be him so you let your feet take you. You rush forwards, your eyes focused on the dark so that you don’t trip, so that your clothes don’t get snagged on low branches or bramble.

You run.

And not only because it’s a game you started, but because you are not sure if it’s a game anymore. You doubt that Astarion would seriously hurt you, but you have seen his anger, his rages, when something upsets him and the glee in his face when he takes those who offend him down, slowly and carefully, to make sure that they feel every single thing done to them. You haven’t been on the receiving end of those moments of fury, but who’s to say if he’s not angry now? Who’s to say that you, possibly evading him for so long, didn’t frustrate him just enough for him to desire to teach you a lesson, and not a fun kind.

Your jaw clenches as you move among the trees, trying to be silent but every step sounds like a thunder strike in your ears. Sweat slowly begins to coat your forehead and you keep hearing the sound of wings behind you, closer and closer, all the while the fog is making it more difficult for you to be fast, slowing you down near to a strolling pace. You stop again, look back, but you can’t see much at all anymore, the mist is just too thick, too dense to peer through even with your vampiric vision. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and try to listen rather than see, but again you achieve nothing.

No, you have to keep going, because at this point you’re not sure what to expect if Astarion catches up with you. An unfamiliar fear grips at your chest, the unpleasant kind. You don’t want to be scared of your lover and your master, you never had a reason before tonight, and yet…

You turn and run again, this time not caring if your shirt gets caught on bushes, not caring that you nearly fall after you trip over a root. You run, your own head telling you to panic, to go faster, to go farther, your logic leaves you as you make your way unaware of even the direction you’re heading to. You swallow hard with every second step, as the sound of wings gets closer yet again. You stop for just a moment when you hear it right behind you, and when you turn back with your face upturned, you see a giant bat clinging to a tree trunk, wings splayed, eyes glowing red, sharp teeth baren. A snarl-like sound escapes the beast and you gasp, scared like never before. This is not a game anymore.

With a frightened yelp you turn and run off, your lips parted as you gasp for air, forgetting even such a simple fact as your nonexistent need to actually do so. Your mind slips back to your mortal days, when you were weaker and so much more vulnerable, and your panicked brain even recreates a quickly drumming heart in your ears even if your actual one remains still.

Somehow this chase makes you forget that you’re a vampire. Once again you’re a mortal tiefling girl scared for her life. Once again you’re powerless, before you turned away from gods and signed a pact that tied you to an entity which granted you tools to be a mistress of your own fate. No, you’re not the woman you were just couple hours ago, this chase stripped you of your present and reduced you to something barely above a chased animal. A prey to a predator of unimaginable powers.

Your own breathing is all you can hear and then you stop in your track, nearly slipping on the mossy ground when the giant bat lands right in front of you. It’s so huge it towers and you lift your face to look at the bloody muzzle of the beast, realizing he caught something else before he caught you.

Wisps of magic wrap around the massive body and the transformation is instantaneous. Astarion stands before you, a grin on his lips, blood painting his chin and he wipes it off with the back of his hand.

“Did you really think you could escape me?” his voice is low, resembling the growl you heard him emanate just earlier while he was turned into that monstrous creature. Your eyes are wide as you stare into his glowing crimson irises.

You watch Astarion lick at the blood on his hand, his eyes not leaving yours and fear like a collar snaps around your throat. Every muscle in your body tightens and you turn on your heel, darting off. Behind you hear a laugh, mist muffling the echo bounding off the trees.

“Darling, you’re just not fast enough!” he shouts after you but you barely listen as you run, arms pumping, knees rising and falling. A branch catches left side of your face but you don’t even feel the sharp sting of it slicing through your skin. All you hear is footsteps, chasing after you.

Darting among the trees you try to escape and your brain shrinks to pure instinct, pure terror. You feel fingertips graze the tip of your tail and you snatch it away immediately with a shriek. Astarion’s laughter again, so close behind you and then the back of your shirt gets caught. He yanks you backwards and two top buttons rip at the strength of the pull. You shout again and your arms flail, desperately seeking for purchase, for anything to grab onto.

Suddenly, you feel the icy pierce of his fangs right into your cowl muscle, making your whole arm go numb near instantly. You cry out, trying to pry yourself away from him, feeling the blood being drawn out of your veins and then it’s over. Not even a flick of a tongue over your wounds as Astarion pulls back just as quickly as he descended upon your flesh.

Your talons scrape the side of a tree leaving deep gashes but offering no help in your struggle when Astarion begins dragging you backwards, making you stumble and loudly pant as you try to escape.

“Let go! Please!” you cry out and Astarion laughs, not stopping. The fog seems as thick as ever and you know that no one will hear you scream in these woods tonight.

“Little love, I can’t believe you think me so merciful.” vampire chuckles and you whine in your hopelessness, then scream when with another powerful tug he sends you flying backwards onto the mossy ground.

The landing pushes air out of your lungs and once you open your eyes you see your lover, your Lord, your Master, standing above you, a smirk on his lips, a trickle of blood down his chin. Your blood. He sticks out the tip of his tongue and drags it over his upper lip, scarlet eyes taking in your splayed figure in front of him, your shirt barely clinging to you by a mere button or two. You don’t have anything underneath and your exposed nipples perk up at the chill of the night. That doesn’t go unnoticed by Astarion and yet the fear still grips you.

“It was a game, I swear!” you try to defend yourself and your earlier suggestion but Astarion just glances over at your face and steps closer, pushing your mind deeper into the panic.

You flip on your front and on all fours you begin crawling from him, choked gasps getting stuck in your throat as you try to scurry away but to no avail. Your shirt gets grabbed again and this time last buttons give up the fight. Astarion pulls at the fabric, making you rise from all fours to your knees as he pulls the shirt off you, your arms following direction of the clothing article that has lost its use. Your shoulders send a sharp jolt of pain to your brain and you squeak before you can stop yourself, then fall back down onto your palms once your arms leave the sleeves.

Without a glance back you try to crawl away once more.

“Stop right there and look at me.” a command. It nails itself within your brain with stickiness of a spiderweb. You stop immediately with your face frozen in fear, you can’t move, you’re not allowed to. You always knew that Astarion has power over you, because he was the one to turn you, to make you his consort, his precious vampiric bride, but he never used his powers to compel you. Until now.

Your body follows his instruction, ignoring your attempts to resist it, and you move your head just enough to look over your shoulder while your lips tremble. Now you see a blade in Astarion’s hand, the edge of it looking menacingly sharp even in the darkness. He smiles the type of smile that spells danger, malice and pain. Tears gather in your eyes as you watch him begin to cut your already tattered shirt into strips. Astarion doesn’t look at you as he works, but he does speak.

“You wanted to play a game, darling. I’m surprised to see you’re not enjoying it much.” he muses with a voice that’s calm, relaxed, happy even. “Too bad though, because I’m going to have most fun whether you want it or not.” Astarion’s fingers collect the strips of your shirt in his palm and you feel his sanguine magic release you.

With a heavy exhale you whine and attempt to crawl again, but this time you’re slower, losing your energy to fight him, and you feel Astarion grab your tail, keeping you in place as he steps closer, leaning over you, to your ear.

“Don’t make this more difficult for yourself.” he whispers and your chest heaves a ragged breath before you stop breathing altogether as you feel the edge of his dagger press against your cheek. “Stay still while I do this unless you want to get hurt.” your Lord mutters and gives your ear a gentle kiss before pulling back entirely. “On your knees, darling.”

You raise from your hands, shakily finding your balance as you kneel, not daring to look at him. The tears in your eyes are still present as you tremble slightly while your mind conjures the horrors he could perform upon you. How far would Astarion go? Would he truly hurt you? You’ll learn tonight, you understand this with a sobering realization.

Astarion’s warm fingers proceed to tie your wrists together in silence and when that’s done he pushes you forwards, making you fall into the moss with the side of your face. You let out a sound but say nothing while your lover undoes the buttons of your pants and peels them off you with relative ease, one leg after another the moment your boots get tossed somewhere into the nearest bush.

“So beautiful.” Astarion hums to himself and you bite your lower lip when you feel him tie your ankles together, making it difficult for you to keep kneeling with your hips in the air. You use your tail for balance and receive a smack on your rear followed by a chuckle. “Stay still I said unless you want me to tie your tail to your horns, love.”

When he’s done binding your limbs, the Vampire Lord grabs the back of your neck and brings you upwards to your knees once more. He leans to your ear, then notices dried blood on your cheek where a branch cut you earlier and you feel his warm tongue caressing your cold skin where the scrape is, making your eyelids heavy.

“Astarion, I didn’t think-“

“Shh shh. No talking.” he croons and his fingers grip the back of your neck tighter while he presses his dagger to your throat. “I don’t want to break my precious toy but I will if I have to.” the menacing whisper makes a shiver travel down your spine right to the tip of your tail and you press your lips together. The blade grazes the underside of your jaw and you close your eyes, a single tear slipping down your cheek and you feel Astarion wipe it off with his thumb. “No tears, darling, they are unbefitting someone like you.” you only manage a small nod in response and feel flat steel of the dagger tap against your cheek. “Good girl.”

You whimper ever so slightly in response and the edge slides down your face, down your cheek, lower and onto your neck, pauses at your right breast, dangerously flicking your hard nipple and nearly cutting it, then down again, to your stomach, caressing the skin there with a dragon-like threat, making you unsure if he will go as far as to actually cut you. Your body responds with another shiver and you can’t help it, despite your fear your find yourself growing aroused. It starts small but the longer Astarion teases the tip of the blade on your stomach, circling it around your navel and grazing it over your pubis, the more wetness pools between your legs, threatening to begin seeping past your folds.

With a loud swallow you gently tremble when the cool steel travels across your stomach again and lower, then lower some more and your right inner thigh is caressed with the razorblade sharpness. The sting is unexpected and you hiss at the feeling, squeezing your eyelids harder, knowing that Astarion can smell your body reacting positively to his game. Suddenly your eyes snap open the moment you feel cold steel pressing between your folds. You nearly panic at the danger of being cut until you quickly realize that he’s using spine of the dagger. You whimper and bite down on your lip, trying not to make more sounds while Astarion slowly moves the blade between your folds, smearing shiny metal with your arousal. He does it so precisely that your swelling nub gets rubbed against the side of the blade and you have to fight yourself to remain silent.

“Such an easy whore you are.” Vampire Lord chuckles against your ear, his grip on your neck not relenting, but now slipping from the back of it to your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter with every slip of his blade against your sopping cunt. “Wet already, even if it’s just a blade.” he taunts and gives your ear a lick, making you gasp. “You’ll scream wonderfully for me tonight, you slut.”

You want to answer but realize you can’t. Astarion is squeezing your throat hard enough to prevent you from using your vocal cords, so you just move your jaw in futile exercise of what little physical agency you have while you’re at his mercy.

“Down, you greedy fucktoy.” vampire snarls and his blade leaves you, his fingers release your throat and you’re pushed face first into the moss again.

You turn your head, trying to peer at your lover over your shoulder with your rear high in the air and Astarion caresses your skin, runs his fingers alongside the base of your tail making your body shudder in response. You feel your own wetness stain your thighs, making you forget that your wrists and ankles are beginning to feel sensitive from your restraints.

“Astarion, please…” you gasp rather than use your voice and he leans to the side just enough to see your face, his eyebrow lifted curiously at you.

“Yes, my dearest pet?” he smirks arrogantly as he speaks and you lick your lips.

“Please, I need you.” you beg, trying to make your voice louder and struggling to do so. Your desire is overwhelming. He was never like this with you before and it’s driving you crazy. The fear and danger he combines so seamlessly while utilizing your own lust for him, a perfect blend of things you dreamed about but didn’t dare ask.

“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you? Would you speak up louder? I like my toy audible.” Astarion’s grin becomes sharper and you notice him toying with the dagger in his fingers. The sight makes you pause but you look into his eyes again and swallow.

“Please, my love, I need you.” your voice is louder now, clearer, and Astarion nods ever so slightly, something mischievous in his expression making you doubt your situation for a split second.

Vampire moves away from your field of vision, right behind you, and you feel his warm fingers trace along the seam of your cunt, painting his skin with your arousal, then you hear him inhale sharply.

“How lucky I am to have such an eager slut as my personal plaything.” he says and pauses for a moment as he teases you, making your stomach clench with expectation. “And since you asked me so nicely...”

You immediately realize that what Astarion begins pushing into your core is not his cock. You loudly gasp and whimper when the object is pushed deeper, the ridges of it making your head swim for a moment. The dagger. He’s using the handle of the dagger.

“Astarion…” you moan, unsure about the danger if he continues this but he just chuckles and grabs your tail with one hand, keeping you still. After another inch you feel his fingers that are holding the knife tightly by the grip, right at the crossguard, and you relax, letting your cunt swallow the hilt as deeply as Astarion can push it in. You move your tail and wrap it around the arm that he uses to steady you.

“You want this, don’t you?” vampire asks and you nod. “I thought so.” he chuckles and begins moving the dagger, textures and grooves of it immediately making your legs tremble and you moan, letting your eyelids close.

Astarion expertly drives the hilt into you again and again, faster with each thrust and harder, just the way you like it. You moan with every such invasion, saliva leaking out of your parted lips and getting soaked into the moss. You’re coming to your orgasm fast because the slightly bulbous pommel is rubbing against your most pleasurable spot. You try to speak your lovers name but all that comes out are first syllables of it, making him chuckle with satisfaction of your undoing administered by him.

“Cum for me, you whore.” Astarion’s voice is almost a growl as he demands your subjugation and you can’t disobey.

The tone of his voice and the pumps of the dagger are exactly the kind of last push you need and you cum. Your orgasm hits you hard and rips through you, making you cry out from the top of your lungs and then stealing your breath away just a moment later. Astarion moves the dagger until your screams fall to whimpers, then he pulls it out, making your cunt emphasize the absence with a wet sound, your arousal now easily dripping down your thighs and coating your skin.

You lie with your face on the ground and pant, gasping for air, your head swims and you shake, trying to collect pieces of your shattered self. But there’s no time for rest, no time for blissful relief as Astarion flips the dagger in his fingers and stabs the ground with it. The sound makes your eyes snap open and you feel yourself being turned, flipped on your back, your body pressing heavily on top of your tied hands.

“Oh… Astarion…” you gasp for air, wanting to tell your lover how good it felt but his face is decorated with a satisfied grin. He knows exactly how he made you feel just now and he’s not done.

“Only your screams tonight, darling toy.” he scolds nearly gently and you stop trying to speak, just attempt to get your breathing under control, then watch how his eyes sweep over your naked form while he kneels over your tied ankles.

He raises an eyebrow when his gaze lingers on your drenched core and then uses his hands to part your knees, giving himself a better look.

“I can’t believe how easy you are.” he taunts, making you feel slightly embarrassed but you say nothing, he instructed you to keep your words to yourself after all. Vampire’s fingers grip your shins now, stopping there to caress your skin for a moment, then he lifts your legs and places your bound ankles around his neck.

Your eyes slightly widen while Astarion’s fingertips explore your inner thighs and as he bends down you inhale in anticipation, then moan slightly the moment you feel his tongue fondle the cut on your skin he left just earlier. You clench your jaw at the mix of pain and pleasure of his ministrations to your wound and your arch your neck, feeling a shiver wash over your body.

“You always taste so sweet.” Astarion whispers against the cut and you let out a strained exhale, letting your back relax while your tail now finds a new point of purchase – his shin, and wrap tightly around it.

He grabs your hips now and leans in, making your thighs squish his head but Astarion does not care. His silver curls tickle your sensitive skin as he leans closer and press his tongue flatly against your cunt, drawing a moan out of you once more. He moves his warm appendage over your folds as if trying to lap up every single drop of you and you encourage his effort with softer mewls escaping your throat. Your back arches and your tail squeezes his leg harder the moment Astarion’s lips wrap around your clit and the tip of tongue begins flicking over it, up and down, down and up, in circles, again and again, making your head swim. You don’t even hear your own voice anymore, you’re lost in your gratification that’s coming to overwhelm you once more just like earlier.

You moan his name then get reduced to just cries of pleasure when your lover begins sucking on your clit, making your hips buck against his face and your thighs squeeze his head so hard your muscles tremble. You feel his fingers drag your hind back onto the moss, pinning it there so that he can continue his succor upon your throbbing clit and you fall into your bliss without resistance. Your pleasure overtakes you, your body trembles and squeezes while Astarion sucks on your sensitive nub right until you reach the point of pain. He stops then, not wanting to take you there, not just yet, and your body relaxes the moment his tongue retreats back into his mouth.

With a satisfied but tired moan you collapse onto the forest floor and feel Astarion part your legs, allowing him to raise his head. When you manage to open your eyes and glance down at him you see a smile and a predatory glint in his eyes.

He’s still not done with you.

“Good girl. You cum so fast for me, I appreciate that.” Astarion coos as he glances down at your drenched folds but this time the wetness comes from his saliva, the night air cooling your skin where his scorching mouth was just moments ago. “I still have not had my fun with you, I hope you noticed that.”

Your lover caresses your thighs and then lifts them again, now placing your bound ankles on his left shoulder and lifting your hips off the moss until you’re supporting your weight with just shoulder-blades. While Astarion looks you straight in the eyes he wraps one arm around your thighs, keeping you in place and making sure that you don’t slip, don’t lower your rear unless he permits so. His other hand wanders below you, his hot palm strokes your rear, his fingertips find your entrance and dip inside just for a moment before he pulls them out and drags them lower, smearing your juices and his saliva over your hole. Only thing you can do is wrap your tail around his thigh and cling to it for dear unlife.

You watch Astarion’s satisfied grin widen as he dips two fingers into your ass, feeling the tightness of it and obviously being satisfied by it.

“You know, my darling, that’s what I truly love about having you as my precious fucktoy. A vampire doesn’t have to worry about same things mortals do. I can use you however I wish and not worry about anything at all. Mortals are simply disgusting.” he laughs and you whimper because his fingers still work within you, slowly pumping in and out, preparing you for what’s to come. “Well, I mean vampires like you, love, because there are no other vampires like me.” a fitting boast and you nod slightly in agreement to him, making him smile softly at you. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” you nod again and he pushes his two digits into you right to the knuckles. “You will take me entirely, won’t you?” another nod before he continues his teasing questioning. “You like it when I fill your holes, don’t you?” Astarion smirks and you nod, beginning to squirm now, wanting more even though your last orgasm was mere minutes ago. “Very good girl.”

You let out a soft mewl of happiness at his words and smile back, gasping only when he pulls his fingers out of you. With the same hand he works laces of his pants, his sanguine gaze locked on your face, because he desires to see every single expression you have to offer. When you feel his heated, velvety tip nudge at your hole you slowly exhale and bite the tip of your tongue, watching face his too, loving every declaration of lust that you can see, meant only for you.

“Take it all, darling.” Astarion smirks and bites his lower lip as he begins pushing into you, claiming your body in ways only he is allowed to. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” he murmurs as his cock slides deeper and deeper, making you feel comfortably full and you gasp, releasing your tongue from your teeth. “Almost there, little love.” vampire coos in a soothing voice and when you moan louder he chuckles, right before you feel the warmth of his torso press against your rear and the back of your thighs. “So eager, I love that.”

He wraps his both arms around your legs now and begins moving. Slowly at first, letting you adjust to the sensation and depth of his cock buried deep in your ass, but you don’t need time, you already sigh blissfully at his every careful pump, making Astarion pick up his pace.

“What a beautiful sight you make, all just for me.” Astarion’s voice is a barely controlled snarl as he finally finds his own physical elation and he thrusts harder and harder, gripping your legs tighter, but only for a moment longer.

Soon one hand releases its grip, moving between your bodies, and fingers of it get shoved into your slick cunt. You gasp louder, looking at what he’s doing, unaware that you closed your eyes and enjoyed yourself just before he did this. You see a grin on Astarion’s face, his curls already sticking to his sweaty forehead and you notice near manic shine in his eyes as he pounds into you, harder and faster. His thumb finds your still very sensitive clit and begins to rub it, making you moan louder. Your fingers grasp at the moss, talons tearing at it as pain and pleasure clashes at your sensations.

“Astarion I don’t know-“

“I said no talking.” he quickly cuts you off and you bite your lip, silencing your words. “You will cum for me as many times as I tell you to.” a statement, not just wishful thinking, and you let your eyelids drop again as you relax, lean into the sensations as much as you can while your body reacts by tensing your muscles.

You whimper as your mind gets overwhelmed and you try to arch your back, but Astarion’s hand around your leg prevents you from moving, his cock plunges into your ass with reckless abandon, his fingers in your cunt curl and stroke and his thumb rubs your clit with feverish pace. Despite the painful sensation, your eruption nears again, you feel it spreading from between your legs and throughout your body, making you shake with the upcoming wave of mind-breaking climax. Astarion hears your fingers rip at the ground and he feels your ass clench his cock with such force he nearly cums early, but he holds you in place and with a low grunt accompanying every single one of his domineering slams against your body, he watches you writhe while you sink into the ocean of beatific crescendo.

All of your senses dull except for pleasure that coats your mind with fog not unlike the one surrounding you both. Your body arches and bends, your muscles tremble from tautness and you stiffen as your orgasm rips through you in wave after wave so hard that Astarion cannot thrust anymore. With his head thrown back and a cry of relief he cums too, unable to stop himself as his fingers dig into your flesh and hook into your cunt just to steady himself. You hear his moans, mixing with yours in the silence of the forest and in this moment - you exist just for him.

Eventually, after the aftershock of your rapture fades to near nothingness, your body relaxes at last and all at once, but Astarion’s grip on you is not enough to prevent your lower body slipping out of his hands and dropping onto the moss, making his fingers leave you and his cock pop out with a wet sound. He only manages to grasp onto your ankles so that at least your legs don’t slip off his shoulder and he lets out a breathy chuckle right as his eyes meet your dazed gaze.

“Darling.” is all Astarion manages to say and you offer him a weak, but satisfied smile while you both try to catch your breaths, try to calm down just a little before either of you can actually speak.

Unsurprisingly, your lover recovers faster. With his free hand he slides his palm over his sweaty curls, near slicking them back and he gently sets your feet on the ground as he eyes your exhausted form. You watch him grip the dagger and pull it out of the ground with one swift motion. You’re too dazed from your most recent orgasm that you don’t even have a chance to wonder what he’s going to do next. With one expert move your ankles become unbound and you exhale from relief because you didn’t realize how sore they were becoming, especially being propped up.

“That was incredible.” you speak with your voice coarse but Astarion gives you one glare and it makes you pause, while silencing you at the same time.

“We’re not done, my dearest pet, which means you don’t have permission to speak yet. Understood?” Astarion speaks while he parts your legs widely and you nod, now worrying about how long he still wants to keep going because you’re not sure if you can keep up. Everything about you feels sore already.

With a satisfied smirk your lover gets down to all fours and leans his head down, placing a kiss on your stomach, and another one just right above the first one. He makes his way up carefully, making sure that his lips leave a scorching trail across your skin as he stops by your breasts, giving one nipple a generous lap of his tongue, then the other one, and your body reacts, making fire in your abdomen begin to ignite hotter, like embers burning brighter at the gust of wind. You exhale with your lips parted as you watch Astarion’s kisses continue between your breasts, over your chest, across your neck and then he captures your face in a kiss so deep you mewl the moment his tongue pierces past your lips and teeth.

Astarion’s warm body descends slowly as you two kiss and it’s a sensation you never stopped loving. Once you were warm and he was cold, now this dynamic is reversed and both of you seem to be intoxicated by it, elevating your sensations to heights like never before. Still, when his cock begins slowly rubbing against your wet folds you flinch. It doesn’t go unnoticed and your lover pulls back from your lips, smirking at you as he lowers his upper body on his elbows, gently pressing his chest against yours.

“I know what you’re thinking, darling” Astarion whispers as his already hardening shaft keep teasingly rubbing against you, his hips moving in fluid motions. And then he maneuvers his cock in such a way that it presses firmly against your overstimulated clit, making you yelp and squirm at the painful sensation. “You’re thinking that you can’t take it anymore. So sore, so sensitive.” he taunts as he presses his dick harder against you, making you clench your teeth at how sweetly agonizing it feels. If he only gave you a minute or two to recover, if only he relented for a moment. “But don’t worry, my dearest pet, I know you can take it.” he pauses, enjoying your strained expression, your sweaty face, your clenched sharp teeth visible past your parted lips and he chuckles. “And if you can’t, you’ll learn to love it anyway.”

Astarion’s movements are slow, your arousal allows his cock to slide between your folds effortlessly, smoothly, and every single time he pushes his shaft upwards, his velvety tip nudges at your clit right before the rest of his length drags over it, prolonging the sensation. Your tail moves again and finds his ankle, wrapping tightly around it as you arch your spine underneath him.

Your eyes close as you try to bear with the pain, your legs trembling and squeezing his hips, trying to stop him to no avail. You hear yourself make strained sounds of discomfort and you arch your neck, beginning to shake with your whole body. It’s so much, too much, you’re about to scream but then Astarion’s lips press to your collarbone, trailing kisses on the underside of your jaw and your body begins to relax. Your tortured clit overcomes the aching stimuli and starts sending sensations of pleasure at last. You gasp, louder and louder as your lover’s cock keeps grinding against you, faster now.

“Come on, my pretty little slut, cum for me. I know you can.” Astarion purrs against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and your fingers grip at the moss underneath you, your wrists now screaming from pain but you barely register that.

You moan and just as your body began to relax it starts tensing again, preparing for yet another orgasm. It’s pleasure but the pain is still present as your clit throbs against Astarion’s dick with delicious dedication to yield under his demands. You gasp for words, but he quickly moves his right hand and inserts two fingers into your open mouth.

“Not a word.” he reminds you as you climb your pleasure faster now. Your tongue moves around his fingers, tasting yourself from earlier and you give in, just like you always do.

You whine, it’s so much, almost too much, but you cannot stop the inevitable and you feel Astarion press his body against yours, making sure that you don’t move too much while he takes you closer and closer to your pinnacle. You’re almost there, so close that your mind begins to blur. And then it stops.

Gasping and trembling you open your eyes to look at Astarion and see his clouded from lust expression.

“Fuck.” he growls and a moment later you cry out when his cock plunge deep within you. You smile at that and bite your lip down the moment his fingers leave your mouth to find additional purchase on the ground near your shoulder. “You’re too sweet.” his eyes flick to you and you nod to him, making him grin. “Such a good pet.”

With that Astarion begins to thrust and you move your legs, locking your ankles on the small of his back right before he graces you with a wet, sloppy kiss. His moans sound delicious in your ears and you mewl too, feeling him thrust hard and fast as if his unlife depends on it. Soon the kiss breaks, he presses his sweaty forehead against your cheek while he grunts louder, his pelvis rubbing against your clit, bringing you once again to the edge of yet another climax.

“I can’t hold back-“ you choke out and before he can even respond you reach your limit, screaming for him once again, your body tensing and clenching around him, your cunt trying to milk him for all he’s worth, but Astarion just swears under his breath, pumping himself into you only for as long as it takes you to ride out your pleasure.

You collapse under him, gasping for air like never before and you can’t even open your eyes, barely comprehending what happened, barely grasping onto your sense of self, it threatens to leave you as your clit and cunt throb with pain and pleasure.

“You didn’t wait for my command, pet.” Astarion’s voice is a ragged whisper and you manage to open your eyes, seeing his grin but with an edge of danger. You disobeyed and he does not appreciate it, even if it was he who pushed you to such limit where you couldn’t help it anymore.

Without another word Vampire Lord pushes himself from you, pulling out of you and stopping for a moment to caress your swollen, sensitive folds, brushing his thumb against your clit and sending a painful jolt down your spine that you accompany with a painful cry.

“There, there. No more of that, you served your use well.” he pulls his hand away and moves your legs apart, releasing himself from your locked ankles.

Carefully he moves your tail away as well, then with one easy pull he hauls your body and flips you over. With a grip on your neck he pulls you upwards, making sure that you’re steadily kneeling before you watch him advance around you until he’s right in front of you, his still hard cock glistening from your arousal. You hungrily eye his glorious form and let your jaw become slack.

“Such a good girl, already know what to do.” Astarion comments with a satisfied smile on his face and while gripping the base of his cock, he guides it into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him once again.

Your eyes meet his as he pushes his length deeper and deeper until you gag ever so slightly, then he stops, releasing it from his grip.

“There there, let’s not make you uncomfortable.” he croons and you smile ever so slightly even though he cannot see it with your lips wrapped around his cock.

You notice him lifting his hands and a moment later you feel Astarion gripping your horns, firmly holding your head in place. Then he shoves his cock deep into your mouth, making your eyes widen from shock and your throat spasms from sudden invasion.

“Come on now, you know how to take it.” Astarion hums arrogantly while he holds his cock in your throat, feeling it contract around the tip of him, and he sighs dreamily.

Your eyes water but you blink it away while your tongue moves around his shaft in vain attempt to alleviate your discomfort. Still, you do listen to him and you lift your gaze, relaxing your throat, stopping your breathing and waiting now as you let your tongue lie flat under his cock.

“There we go, you are such a darling.” Astarion praises and begins moving his hips against your face while still gripping your horns.

He fucks your mouth with increasing speed. He was already close before you came around his dick just earlier and now it’s his turn to get what’s owed to him. With a smirk he moves his hips faster, stronger, snapping them against your face with increasing fervor, the tip of his cock rubbing deep in the back of your throat. Your mouth salivates in response, pooling around your lower teeth and then spilling past your lips while you keep your tongue still and slightly propped, giving him even more pleasurable sensation.

“What a wonderful creature you are.” Astarion’s voice is breaking and it’s labored as he keeps satisfying himself with your mouth, his words strained when he speaks between his groans. “Filthy little whore and my precious regal consort in one. I am pleased.” he praises and you study his face, watch it becoming more and more colored in shades of lust and pride, mixed with his rapidly approaching orgasm. “You’re so good…”

This is the last thing Astarion manages to say before he moans and pulls your head by your horns, impaling your mouth over his cock as he climaxes, spilling his cum down your throat in twitching spurts while his loud moans fill your ears. You greedily swallow every last drop while he holds your face in place, pressed firmly against his skin and with a final spasm of his length, Astarion exhales with clear satisfaction.

Carefully he pulls your head away and you wrap your lips firmly around his shaft as it begins traveling backwards, being pulled out of your mouth. As the tip leaves your lips and you lick them, watching Astarion’s sweaty face and glazed-over eyes, you know you did well.

“Darling, you are magnificent.” he chuckles with happiness and lets go of your horns.

You notice his legs wavering as he walks from you, grabbing the dagger again and this time leaning in to cut the binds on your wrists. You immediately pull them to yourself and rub sore joints, but Astarion gently grips your jaw and turns your face upwards so that he can press his lips against yours. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and you mewl ever so slightly before he pulls back with a grin.

“Nothing tastes better than tasting myself on your lips.” he chuckles and you smile. Your body is exhausted, sore and you sit on the moss, finally noticing that the fog is gone.

“Was it your doing?” you ask as you raise your eyes to Astarion and he approaches, sitting on the ground as well with his back against a tree, then he pulls you into his lap. Your tail moves with joy and you know he sees it, yet you have nothing to hide.

“Yes.” he says proudly and you press your naked chest against him, gripping his shoulders while you grin and begin kissing his neck slowly, your tail finding his leg once again and affectionately wrapping around it.

“You hid it. Just like the bat form.” you say between kisses and Astarion puts his arms around you, letting you taste his sweaty skin with your tongue. He even leans his head back with a sigh of delight.

“I like to surprise you whenever I can.” he strokes your back in lazy movements. “You did well tonight, my love. You’re such a good girl for me, I think you deserve a reward.” you pause at his words and turn your face so that you can look at the left side of his own, one crimson eye meets your gaze. “Go ahead, darling, you deserved it.” he smiles and you smile back, then put your face to his neck once more, but instead of offering kisses, this time you part your jaw and sink your fangs into his flesh, eliciting a moan out of his throat once more.

“Such a good girl…” Astarion sighs, sounding absolutely content. You happily squeeze his leg with your tail in return, because you will never get tired of hearing that.

Ever.

[thats-not-okie-dokie]

Well I wasn't expecting this, but I found an au that I really like for Welcome Home! So obviously, seeing the absolutely delicious art that @lizaisdrawing makes for the Puppeteer Wally au (delicious for the eyes, that is!), I couldn't help myself. Go give this wonderful creator a follow if you haven't already! I can't wait to see where this goes :)

The way Wallace and Wally are written brings me so much joy, because I can believe that it is them! One thing that pulls me out of an au so fast is characters acting too ooc. They don't feel authentic anymore to me. (Which is not a diss on au creators, it just doesn't align with my personal interests oftentimes) I don't find this a problem at all here! Keep it up

No pressure, of course!

On my artistic side of things, I tried a more textured technique for the shading in this one, and I think my fumbling around paid off in the end. Shading is truly one of my favourite parts of the process! It's where everything comes together, and I can go wild with my brush strokes and have it make sense. And as for getting that human anatomy down, I'm still in a constant battle. Wallace's head took me far longer to get right than I'd like to admit- but at least I came back to it after a day and things clicked more for the rest of the body and Wally. Overall, it was a fun and experimental journey

[ashleander]

Pizza Tower Anniversary

Wooo, I barely got this finished on time! Decided to draw the all of the *major* characters! Everyone’s here yippee!

I’ve been stuck here since March. I’m glad I got introduced to it since things were tough at that time. It filled me with so much joy and I got to hold it longer.

Thank you Pizza Tower for bringing me to these wonderful characters, gameplay, songs, returning my knack for art, and a community full of talented people! ❤️

Alternate Version: Same but Mr. Stick has white gloves and I used a rusted decay brush for texture!

[throwaway-yandere]

Paint (Kaveh/Reader Drabble)

a/n: not a yandere fic, i'm just a kaveh simp who cant focus on pe midterms lol. Sorry i didn't draw anything like usual– this is literally just something i wrote like 7 minutes tops lmao

-------

"What... Exactly are you doing, Master Kaveh?"

"Ever heard of rapid hardening cement?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, you're about to find out what it is." 

Kaveh peeled off the straw-like material from the solid concrete, revealing the final product of his casual 2-hour-long project. It was a miniature house, adorned with bricked textures and tones. Something at this level is mere child's play to him, but to everyone else? It's quite a masterpiece, not even his roommate can refute that statement or criticize his work. The light of the Kshahrewar honestly never ceases to dazzle and amaze you.

"That looks fantastic…"

Kaveh shrugged. "Eh, can't say I agree. It's a bit too basic for my standards– I'm quite indifferent about the results."

"Still doesn't make it any less great for everyone else." You were awed, unable to tear your eyes away over what he called a 'basic' project.

Kaveh's expression softened. "Thank you."

He quickly looked back at his model. "A-Anyways, the only thing that would complete it now is a bit of color. Are you good at art, (Y/n)?" 

"On the contrary, no." You sighed. "The only art form I practice are social dances, and I presume you meant a more visual display?"

"Unfortunately yes." Kaveh frowned. "Anyone else you know I could ask?"

"There's the traveler but..." You muttered inaudibly, not wanting to bother her with the eccentric architect's antics. "No, I don't."

"Well, why don't I teach you how to paint?" Kaveh smiled. "Come, sit beside me. It's a fun exercise! It'll help you act a little less rigid."

"Rigid...?"

"Yes." Kaveh nodded solemnly. "I pity the victims who had such sparks of creativity die so easily between the rough hands of the corporate and cold life. (Y/n), you act like such a grandmother that I sincerely did not believe you when you told me we were roughly the same age."

"W-Well, the Akademiya never taught us this so–"

"We're gonna change that today."

Kaveh brought up his painting materials. There were posted paints, glitter, fake grasses, and–

There's not a single paintbrush.

"Kaveh, I'm afraid you don't have a brush. Might I run to buy you one?"

"What? Who said we're using brushes? I make and break the rules of architecture around here."

Kaveh pulled your hand, his fingers locking with yours. His hands were warm. With a youthful smile, he forced you to sit beside him. He hastily grabbed a capped red paint, before pointing at the roof. But you can't seem to focus on the task at hand– how can you, when his face looked so aesthetically pleasing?

This man...

He set this whole thing up perfectly.

"Today's mission is to bring back the childlike wonder in your eyes– you'll find out what a joy it is to finger-paint!"

—--

The next day, Alhaitham comes back to his desk carrying a large pile of paperwork, not knowing where to put it as he mentally screamed at his roommate for making his workplace more paint and glitter-filled than last time.

"I swear– I'm going to take both keys the next time he asks them out."

[hrishcha]

Brushes maybe?

I’d love to figure out how you render that way ur stuff is so good! Any advice you could give maybe? The texturing is STUNNING

Hi! Thank you :] To be fair, I'm not sure where to start as I have multiple ways to draw things, but I'll try. (Also I might show more if you choose an example if you had any specific brushes in mind)

For most recent art my favourite brushes that were used in rain world fanart have some color jitter. It's a feature that can be enabled in clip studio, but I'm sure that other programs have similar setting.

When I'm less confident in general execution of the idea or have many details to pay attention to and want to take things slowly i like to use oval marker brush. It doesn't have any texture and has somewhat soft edges so i can work from very loose blob of sketch. Its flat shape that doesn't turn with the movement allows me to "chisel" out the shapes and volume in the drawing. That's why many prefer using flat brushes instead of round.

Sometimes I straight up sketch with thin brush for lineart and clean excess lines so it looks like lineart instead of drawing one over the sketch layer from scratch. This hoverer requires a lot of practice and generally clean confident strokes so I resort to it rarely and use it for more stylised cartoonish things. Tip: you can also duplicate lineart and blur the layer and lower its opacity so the whole thing will look more interesting and less sharp.

And then there's this thing :) not sure what to add here other than that they're pretty.

As for the advice hmmmm… Probably I'd say that many brushes show their potential if you adjust your style to each, like you'd usually do with traditional medium. While keeping one favourite consistent style may be comforting, and I respect that as drawing should be what brings you joy, sometimes experimenting might be useful for you. I do have limited amount of styles for some of my favourite brushes and don't go as crazy as I could, but sometimes it feels more satisfying to let the brush guide your process with its shapes and textures instead of breaking it into your already existing pattern. At least that's what I've been enjoying recently :) Keeping up with developing multiple styles might distract you from learning other aspects, so to choose what's better is always up to you. I wish I'd had more in-depth advices on how to render in general but figuring it out was a complex and long process for me as well

[anonabelle]

Droppin’ a little “making of” for the Affection!!! comic!

concept sketch > rough sketch > clean-ish sketch

Ramblings under the cut:

1. Mikey’s line in the concept sketch was originally different! I changed it to “On it!” because I wanted the whole comic to read snappier (and I’m pretty sure it’s a line the boys have used on the show when they’re teamworking). This sketch was probably done in under 10mins because of how scribbly everything is. Maybe even just 5mins.

When I look at it, I can still feel past!Anabelle desperately trying to convey “These lines are Leo’s arms and they are wide open in panel 2, okay future!Anabelle??” - I spend months at a time focused on gesture drawing practice but it always feels like I forget everything when I have an idea I want to draw out. :’) But then again, so long as the concept sketch conveys the information you need it to, then it’s doing its job, right? Let it look stupid. It’s fun to laugh at afterwards anyway.

2. Rough sketch! This is where I decided I wanted to push Leo’s dramatics, to see if I could capture some of the fun expressions we’ve seen on the show. I messed with the panel layout for quite a bit because having them static like in the sketch wasn’t bringing in the energy I wanted (also thought it was funny to have panels tilted like that because they look similar to the top of Leo’s head).

3. This clean-ish sketch served as my base for the lineart. Sometimes I do one more pass on the sketch just to make sure the character proportions and important stuff are in order, but I was really itching to clean this one up.

Every time I get to the lineart stage for a Rise fanart, I’m always looking to see how closely I can mimic the style of the show while maintaining the liveliness of my sketches. I’ve never thought about it in depth before but I guess I approach it like a master study. I’m not always like this with fanart but the art on Rise is kinda special to me and figuring out how to ape it brings me joy.

Other fun facts:

CSP’s text editor functions aren’t that advanced (in Pro v1 anyway, which is what I use) so I had to manually adjust each character in both “Miguel!” and “Affection!!!” to get them to curve that nicely. No pain no gain, amirite? Lucky this comic isn’t that dialogue heavy, haha.

I’ve been alternating between two brushes for my linework - a smooth one and a gritty/pencil-like one. I actually used the latter for this comic but I guess I must have messed with the brush density at some point because you can’t really see the texture in the lines. Oops?

[thedawner]

hi I also wanted to say I adore your brushes. I only really draw as a pass time and idk if I'm any good but your brushes just bring me joy to use. I love painting with the colour jitter thick paint brushes and the texture is amazing. sometimes I'll just paint stuff for the joy of it because they're lovely

You're very sweet and I appreciate the kind words immensely. It will always mean a lot to me.

I'm really happy that you like the colour jitter brushes, that's one of my fav features to add to these sets!

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

0 - THE FOOL

↑: new beginnings, spontaneity, adventure, freedom, innocence

↓: apathy, irrationality, carelessness, stupidity, lack of hope

meet the fool... y/n l/n

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The slick grass brushed against your cheeks as a soft breeze flew by. A small warm sensation repeatedly struck various spots of your torso. As your consciousness returned from the black, you opened your eyes.

A large white dog sat expectantly next to you, an emotion similar to joy on its face. The sky was painted in the fiery hues of a sunset, accompanied by the growing blues of dusk.

A cloth rested over your legs, and upon closer inspection you concurred that it was a cream-coloured coat. The texture was reminiscent of cotton, and it smelled like summer rain.

Standing up, you scanned the horizon. Rolling green hills spread as far as you could see, but a thin line of deep cerulean in the distance led you to believe that you were near the coast. The dog next to you nudged the coat.

"Do you want me to put it on?" you questioned.

A bark in response.

"Well, alright."

Sliding the coat onto your arms, a striking familiarity flows throughout your body.

The dog spins around excitedly three times as a warmth enters your veins.

This coat holds a familiar magic signature – how peculiar.

As your thought finished, you felt a light tug near the bottom of your coat. Looking down, you catch the white dog with the fabric between its teeth. When you make eye contact, it releases you and begins walking east.

With no other companion, and no other place to go, you choose to follow the fluffy white canine.

—

Night had fallen by the time you reached the coast. As you wandered the shores, you admired the stars. All twelve of the zodiac constellations shown brightly here, and it brought you a sense of comfort to find something similar to your world here.

The dog suddenly pranced from your side to a western spot on the beach. You could make out an object laying in the sand and waited patiently for the animal to bring it to you.

As it came running back, it dropped a recognizable brown leather satchel at your feet. Enthusiastically, you opened it to find three of your most important belongings. A safety charm hung from a black leather cord, a book on the inner workings of otherworldly beings, and the tarot deck that you were gifted when you were eleven.

"Thank you! You've been such lovely company and a truly fantastic guide!" 

The dog yipped as a reply.

A soft inner tug pulled your attention back to your tarot deck. Opening the worn, gilded box, the empty card of the Fool sat upright atop the deck.

Is this where I am? The realm of the Fool?

Another yip.

Can you read my thoughts?

Two yips.

A laugh left your lips.

"Does this perhaps mean… that I am the Fool?"

Three yips, now.

"You would be the barking dog, then, correct?"

A full bark.

"Do you have a name?"

An up-and-down nodding movement, along with its left paw placed upon your book, clued you into what the dog was saying.

Opening the book and flipping through the pages, you stopped at the pair displaying your coat on the left and a white canine on the right.

"Ananka?"

A joyful spin before they once again sat intently before you.

"Meaning countless, or infinite."

Another flip of the page, and you were greeted by a breeze laced in sparkles. As you quickly decided to shut the book, you looked to your left.

Rolling off of the cliff was a lavender and violet fog, but instead of radiating danger, it contained significant traces of magic and mischief.

Ananka began walking in its direction, stopping to nod for you to follow.

Nearing the mist, you witnessed the royal colour cascading over a shimmering golden gate. The mist became a deep indigo colour at its base, and flowed into the void past the gate.

A soft woof from beside you drew your attention back to Ananka.

"Is this where we are to go next?"

A beat of silence.

We will not be going together, dear Fool. Only you can complete this journey.

Anxiety began creeping into your heart.

"Will I see you again?"

Of course, we are bound together. I will be there whenever you call for me.

Relief slaughtered the creeping beasts as you steeled yourself to pass through the now open gates.

"Farewell, Ananka."

Farewell, Fool.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

enter the misted gates ->

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masterlists | journey through the realms

[wordsinhaled]

I've been thinking about what things had been like for Dream - who is at that point a stubborn teenager in spirit - for what, how many thousands of years before Death decided that Dream needed to touch grass? It sounds like it's his first time really being among people in the waking world, so from his perspective? People are just ghosts who flit in and out of his realm to be entertained (or frightened or inspired) for a little bit. And if you've never been there among them, you can only really base what you create on what is brought to you, which is like a painter only owning one brush and two paints. It sounds so incredibly depressing. And then in comes Hob.

anon, i don't know if you're the same person who sent me an ask a couple of days ago about dream the eldritch being shepherding the collective unconscious? - if you are, i like the way you think (and if not then whoever sent that is excellent as well!)

i think it's interesting to think of how dream understands humanity through dreams. it's almost like—he'd have to understand things he gleans from people's dreams as though it's a big game of telephone in a way? i mean, dreams are so rarely straightforward and have so much symbology, it'd be like learning an echo of the concept of something based on the way the dreamer's dream distorted their experience of life

like, you can't count on anything in a dream being accurate. you could dream of eating a biscuit, but would it taste the same or have the same texture as it does when you're awake? would it have the same purpose and make you feel the same?

so i think he understands or has encountered a lot of things, but often really theoretically, and in practice, in the waking world, things are a lot more tangible and solid, so it's a lot to adjust to. but at the same time i think he'd also absolutely have to have a really great understanding of the purpose of the symbols and the echoes in people's dreams and how they inform the subconscious, so that he can guide the dreamers toward processing and actualization

i think hob would really bring that immediacy for dream, that love and joy at being-in-the-world, inhabiting life in all its minutiae type of experiencing

and i also have a lot of thoughts about how after dream starts being in the world more thanks to hob, dream probably really vibes with sartre's brand of existentialism and phenomenology and also sartre's squeamishness about how visceral experiencing the world is

[neontokyoo]

Heyy ;D

Irene Adler/ James Bonde supremacy real!!

How about Bonde × painter!reader (who always loves to draw Bonde whenever they can, showing their affection through arts) ?

Sometimes do painting activities together but reader is definitely much better lol

Thank you and Have a good day/night !<3

Of course, it is! They're literally so underrated, give this man some love and affection fr.

Pairing: James Bond/Irene Adler x Painter!Reader

Genre: ???

Summary: After seeing all of your Bond-inspired paintings, James decides to stay a while and watch you paint.

Warnings: none

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, sunlight filtering through the curtains. Stretching your arms, you yawn and rub your eyes, ready to start a new day. As a painter, your love for art knows no bounds, and today is no exception. But little do you know that today will be a bit different, for fate has something special in store for you.

You gather your art supplies, brushes of all sizes, and a fresh canvas, feeling the excitement bubbling within you. There's something about capturing the essence of a person on canvas that brings you joy, and there's one person who inspires you like no other—James Bond.

Ever since you met him during a mission that intertwined your paths, you've been captivated by his charisma, wit, and the enigma that surrounds him. You've spent countless hours sketching and painting his rugged features, his piercing eyes, and his confident stance. Each stroke of your brush carries your admiration for him, and you've poured your heart into every artwork.

Today, however, you have a feeling that something extraordinary might happen. As you finish setting up your art space, a knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. With a curious smile, you open the door to find James Bond himself, dressed impeccably as always.

"Good morning," he greets you, a hint of intrigue in his eyes. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. In fact, I was just about to start a new painting. Care to join me?"

Bond's eyebrows raise in surprise, his lips curling into a smile. "You paint? That's a talent I didn't know you possessed."

You step aside, welcoming him inside your cozy art studio. "It's a passion of mine. And I can't think of a better subject than you, James."

He takes a moment to look around, his gaze falling upon the numerous portraits of him adorning the walls. The colors and textures bring him to life, and he's genuinely impressed by your skill.

"Quite the collection you have here," he remarks, his voice filled with admiration. "I had no idea I served as such an inspiration."

You laugh softly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Well, you have this captivating presence that draws me in. And painting you is my way of expressing how much you mean to me."

Bond's eyes meet yours, a glimmer of understanding shining through. He walks over to the easel, examining the blank canvas awaiting your touch.

"Today, I'd like to see how you capture me," he says, his voice filled with curiosity.

You nod, dipping your brush into the paint. As you begin to create, you lose yourself in the moment, letting your emotions guide your hand. The brush dances across the canvas, capturing Bond's essence with each stroke. His expression shifts subtly, revealing a mix of surprise and amusement as he watches you work.

Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the artistic trance, your passion fueling the artwork. The hours slip away effortlessly, and before you know it, the painting is complete.

Setting down your brush, you step back to admire your creation. There on the canvas, you've managed to capture the essence of James Bond—the charm, the strength, and the enigmatic allure that drew you to him in the first place.

Bond approaches the painting, his eyes scanning every detail. His lips part, but no words escape. Instead, he reaches out and gently places his hand on your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring.

"You've captured me like no one else ever has," he finally whispers, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

[acaseforpencils]

Gustavo Magalhães.

Bio: My name is Gustavo Magalhães and I am a Brazilian illustrator/cartoonist. I live in Caçapava, a small town in São Paulo state. I have worked as an illustrator since 2013.

As an editorial Illustrator, I've been published by The New Yorker, Golf Digest, Forbes, The New Republic, GQ Magazine among others. The first time I was commissioned by The New Yorker was in 2021, for "The Critics" session on a portrait of Sandra Oh" for her new show at the time, "The Chair," which aired on Netflix.

Sketch, refinement, finished piece.

I also have a web comic strip called "Curb Talk." It's published  twice a week in a classic Comic Strip format.

Lately, I am a Senior Illustrator at a Studio called "Fried Design Company ,'' in Springfield, Missouri. But I work from Brazil.

AOIKTYE Procreate Keyboard for Ipad / Apple Pencil / Ipad Pro

Mac Mini / Asus Proart PA248QV Monitor / Huion Kanvas Plus 22 Display

Tools of choice: My process of work is mixed, I like to sketch the first thumbs and sometimes more advanced pieces on paper and "ink" / color them using digital tools. It's been 5 years that more than 90% of my final pieces are done in digital, and along that period I discovered that I'm a person that likes to do a significant amount of tests while inking, and digital tools help me a lot in that.

Lately, I've been trying to achieve an inking process that I could do both on paper and on digital, that way I could do my pieces however I feel on that day, and my comic strip has been a good place for this test field, and I'm enjoying that mix very much.

Pentel .09 Mechanical Pencil / Staedtler Water Brush / Staedtler Pig LIner 0.3 / Royal Talens No. 2 Brush

If you were asking me "You are on a desert island and can bring just one setup with you," I'd say I would bring my iPad. It allows me to sketch with an "analogic feel," where it's important to feel that you are actually crafting something. But it also gives me all the testing possibilities the digital work has.

Huion Display pen Battery Free Pen PW517

Tool I wish I could use better: Coloring in general, but mostly painting. It's always a struggle to translate what I have in mind to the final piece. And there are some aspects of texture and rendering that you can only get in analogical tools like gouache, oil, watercolor. Of course there are excellent artists that do those digitally, but there are certain aspects that you need a physical touch to achieve and I have never done anything like that. Maybe one day.

Tool I wish existed: A chair + desk set that automatically corrects your bad posture whenever your body is hurting or sitting in the wrong way. I hate having lower back and wrist pains while working, haha!

Tricks: One thing I brought from the full analogical days is an adaptation of the "drawing from your shoulder thing." Personally, I found it very hard to do, so I use a bandana on my pen hand, and use the other hand to pool this and drag. This is a thing that helps me a lot when drawing straight lines with a handmade feel, instead of just using shapes in Photoshop or any digital tool for precise lines.

Misc: "Go easy on yourself and have fun!" I never thought I could work with illustration. I spent almost a decade working in the aircraft industry (half of it doing freelance illustration jobs for local bands and brands) and the factory mentality lever left my mind, just now (after 10 years as an illustrator, 7 as my main activity), I'm recovering the passion that I had as a young doodling kid. Everyone sees artistic careers as this romantic thing, but it's always a struggle (at least for me) to face your passion as an obligation day to day, and make this trade of time and love for money. So after several years going hard on myself I am finally learning how to be lighter and having more fun and joy in my work.

(Outro/Editor's note: I asked Gustavo if he would care to discuss how working in the aircraft industry affected his work as an illustrator):

I think the biggest influence I got from this industry was the routine and how to deal with work. Artists naturally tend to be less rigid in the aspect of routine because of the nature of creativity, and I think that having almost a decade working in another industry in a more conservative environment helped me in how to take it more serious in all aspects, from my day to day process, to how to treat my clients and deadlines.

That's basically the biggest influence and learning I got from this period. How to understand that the work isn't just the drawing and thinking, but everything that happens behind it, from the clothing choice I pick to work at home, from the time management I need to have in order to balance all simultaneous projects I have.

Website, etc.

Portfolio

Curb Talk Comics

Instagram

Twitter

----

If you enjoy this blog, and would like to contribute to labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon, and if you’d like to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi  account as well! I do this blog for free because accessible arts education is important to me, and your support helps a lot! You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

[dairy-farmer]

Timmy is such a little doll 😭💗 and he likes to dress up and the batfamily loves to give him dress up presents. Alfred loves to shop for accessories for Tim, bows, headbands, delicate jewelry, lacy gloves, and sweet stockings. Tim wanders around the manor in his frilly skirts or little sailor shorts, practically skipping. Bruce likes to gift him the frilliest panties and matching bralettes and he’ll lift Tims skirts to see if he’s wearing them, “show me my presents baby” and Timmy gets all blushy. The best tho is how he whimpers and sniffles when daddy fucks him in his outfits bc “you’re going to ruin them 😭” but daddy just shoves his panties to the side and keeps cumming in his little pussy. He’s just a little doll and daddy will dress him up and play with him how he wants 💕

😍😍😍 tim being the loveliest little doll and letting his daddy dress him up so pretty. I like to imagine that when bruce was a kid he'd had a doll, one of those nearly child sized porcelain dolls that were all stiff but had pretty, blushed cheeks and thick ringlet curls.

brucw had taken her everywhere with him, she was his best friend. his parents were confused but bruce’s favorite toy being a doll wasn't hurting anyone so they let it go. they'd let bruce bring her to restaurants and galas and sure people would make snide comments but nowhere he or his parents could hear.

after his parents died she was his only comfort but people were...cruel. even to a grieving boy and pretty soon societal pressure and disapproval from strangers had bruce packing her into a box and leaving her in the attic. after all the times waynw manor has had to undergo construction and be rebuilt....she was long gone.

but now bruce had a new little doll. one that brought him twice the joy and that he loved just as fiercely.

tim let bruce brush his hair, style it all kinds of ways, tie it up, put barrettes in it, curl it and adorn it with all manners of decoration. tims body was perfectly smooth and beautiful when clothes were put on him. every fabric of every color and texture looked beautiful on him and bruce spent a small fortune filling up tim's closet with outfits for him to wear. along with various shoes, jewelry, day and night gloves.

bruce loved how tim would sit so perfectly still for him as he dressed him. rolling stockings up his legs or dainty little socks with ruffled lace hems. big poofy dresses that made him look like a cupcake. rounded and good enough to eat.

bruce had a phase where he loved the look of bonnets on tim's sweet head.

bruce loved picking out tim's undergarments the most. delicate little cotton panties. sometimes lacy strips of fabric that barely covered anything at all. sometimes sheer little things that let bruce see the pink slit of tim's pussy or those little nipples that begged bruce to suck on them.

sometimes bruce wouldn't put any underwear on tim at all. and when tim would bend over the short little dress and petticoat he had on would flip up and reveal his naked little baby pussy. sometimes bruce didn't want to undress tim to fuck him. he just wanted to stare at those wonderful dresses and clothing and fuck into that hot little hole. bruce would have a lapfull of gasping tim, dress fully obscuring the sight of his cock splitting that little pussy and sinking into that sloppy, dripping heat.

bruce would tangle his fingers into the fabric and groan as he pumped his hips, splattering tim's insides with loads of his hot cum.

tim would whine and pout when bruce wouldn't let him undress. he'd insist his dress would get ruined. if he was wearing panties he'd try to bat bruce away saying that his cock would stain them with his cum :(! but bruce would mumur something about buying him some new pairs before hooking his thumb into the crotch of the fabric and moving it to the side so he could press in and brutally fuck that perfect little pussy.

bruce loves how pretty his timmy is. he'll ask tim to model for him whenever he gets a new dress. tell him to spin around and show him flashes of his panties as well. each fashion show ends with bruce fucking tim like an animal, unable to resist the sight of tim in his new outfit. tim always tries to delay him, telling him to not ruin his brand new dress!

but bruce doesn't care. his old doll would never complain when bruce would rut against her, young cock too eager and unable to hold out- always splattering on the front of her dress. bruce would always sponge away the evidence or spill juice on her to cover the stains. bruce is pretty sure tim would cry if bruce tried spilling food on him to cover the cum stains he left.

so instead bruce just fucks harder and slaps a hand over tim's mouth, muffling his offended huffs and protests so he can focus on the sight of tim in his new white, lacy dress and the feel of his tight little pussy around his cock.

what a perfect little doll.

[sendpseuds]

WIP Wednesday

This might be my favorite section in the whole of the Broadway AU. It's long and I don't care, it brings me so much joy I simply can't keep it to myself. This section comes from a chapter of vignettes exploring the growth of their relationship. I had an absolute blast writing this. Enjoy.

____________

“You’re nervous,” Obi-Wan observed as they lingered outside his home.

“Of course, I’m nervous!” Anakin responded, taking an involuntary step back, “I really want them to like me.”

“Well, they won’t all like you,” Obi-Wan chuckled, which did not make Anakin feel better at all but there was something about that laugh that relaxed the muscles in his shoulders, “it’s just the way they are, but I’m sure you’ll win them over in time.”

Anakin had really thought that knowing what Obi-Wan looked like on his knees would stop him from feeling so breathless around the man but that simply was not true. He worried about being too anxious, being too eager, being too much, but every time Obi-Wan took his hand and placed a gentle kiss to his knuckles or to his cheek or to his forehead or to his lips as he was right now outside his door he felt all trepidation unwind from his spine.

They didn’t all need to like him immediately, he decided as Obi-Wan deepened the kiss. 

Fuck it, none of them needed to like him.

“And remember, the best way to get a cat to like you is to just fucking ignore them.”

Yup! It was totally okay if none of Obi-Wan’s cats liked him.

“Are you ready?”

No.

“Yeah.”

As soon as Obi-Wan opened the door he heard bells. 

He had been told to expect this.

No part of Anakin was focused on the apartment that lay beyond the threshold — the brick walls, the textured furniture layered in pillows and blankets, the shelves lined with photos and trinkets that certainly all carried a deeper meaning he someday hoped to know — right now, all his focus was on the little white cat who immediately appeared in the doorway. 

Ventress.

‘She comes on very friendly,’ Obi-Wan had told him with a big smile, ‘don’t be surprised if she meets us at the door.’

And there she was, stretching with her paws splayed out in front of her, showing off her claws with her butt waggling in the air. She was almost entirely white, with a little M on her forehead and marks around her eyes that Obi-Wan affectionately referred to as ‘eyeliner.’ 

“Hello, darling,” Obi-Wan purred as they walked through the door, Ventress’s collar jingling as she followed tightly on Obi-Wan’s heels, “just remember—” 

“—yes I know,” Anakin said, taking off his jacket and finally taking a look around him, “ignore her.”

The apartment was warm and inviting in a way that felt lived in. Colorful rugs covered the creaking hardwood floors and artwork adorned every wall filling the space with heart and vivid light. There were stacks of coffee table books and more plants than Anakin could imagine attempting to keep alive. One entire wall of the living room was comprised of bookcases, not a single vacant spot among the shelves.

It was as he looked over the rows and rows of books that he saw the second one, sitting straight and tall on the highest shelf watching him with obvious curiosity. 

Dooku.

He was quite striking, a rusty tan color with a dark face and ears, long dark tail wrapped around his paws. He would have looked terribly intimidating up there, if it weren’t for the fact that his bright blue eyes were slightly crossed.

“I see you’ve found the old man,” Obi-Wan chuckled, likely noticing the way Anakin’s entire body had gone stiff, “just don’t stare at him too long, he’ll get offended.”

Anakin looked away immediately.

Obi-Wan laughed.

As he moved through the space, walking to the bright open kitchen to grab them both a drink, it almost seemed like Obi-Wan was the one jingling, that little white cat still following closely at his heels everywhere he went. A few times, when they were standing close enough, she would wander away from Obi-Wan, brushing her cheek against Anakin’s jeans, weaving between his legs.

“Not yet,” Obi-Wan chuckled, shaking his head when Anakin started to crouch down, completely determined to know how soft she was, “if you’re not patient, she’ll just run away. You’ll know when it’s time.”

They had moved to the couch, drinking cans of beer with colorful labels and Anakin finally started to relax, despite the near-constant cross-eyed stare from Dooku that he could practically feel prickling the back of his neck. Obi-Wan did most of the talking, gesturing about his space at various books and canvases and sculptures and vases and trinkets explaining how each item had come into his care. 

There was a personal connection to almost everything in his life. If it wasn’t a gift, he knew the artist or the author, or it had been recommended to him by someone he cared for, someone he respected. Obi-Wan lived his life with an intention that made him glow like the morning sun and Anakin found himself unable to look away as the man simply talked about his life.

So enthralled with Obi-Wan’s story — okay, maybe the listening part could use a little work but it was something involving a shaman and a night club in Paris — Anakin didn’t even notice Ventress hop up onto the couch. But when she began to tentatively climb into his lap, he froze.

Chuckling, Obi-Wan placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, some of the tension immediately slipping away, “just let it happen,” he whispered, “you’re doing so well.”

In no time she had snuggled up in his lap, warm and vibrating and so soft. She snoozed away contentedly as Anakin pet her with wrapped fascination. He’d always considered himself a dog person — not that he’d ever had a dog — but he never had an issue with cats, always finding himself smiling whenever one would hop up on a bodega counter. But now, listening to that sweet purr, watching as she splayed her perfect pink toes like she was making bread out of nothing but air, Anakin began to wonder if maybe he’d been wrong.

Just then, a terrible force tore through the room. It appeared out of nowhere, a blur of fur and stripes like a demon risen from the fiery pits of hell. The room erupted in chaos and cats scattered everywhere, Ventress tearing out of his lap, Dooku descending from his perch like a gargoyle come to life before each of them disappeared into their own dimensions.

When the calamity came to an abrupt halt, the room fell into an almost eerie quiet.

Obi-Wan was doubled over in silent laughter, his hands covering his face as he shook his head. The tips of his ears were bright red and his laugh was infectious as Anakin began to giggle too.

“That would be Maul.”