#this took as long as it took me to draw 2 fully colored and lined halfbodies yesterday
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lolita shu [passes out onto the concrete]
#ensemble stars#enstars#shu itsuki#lolita fashion#bunny’s art#this took as long as it took me to draw 2 fully colored and lined halfbodies yesterday#just because i spent so much time deliberating on the dress design#maybe it could be better idk#also learned thru this that the dresses on my wishlist are no longer dresses i like sooooooo i have to go looking again [goes into a coma]#pls reblog to compensate my tired body
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except me pt 2
A/N: Another smutty Emily fic! Sorry this one took me like...two months. I have no excuse lmao.
Summary: This is the second part to Except Me which can be read here! Reader goes to Emily's after work and fun ensues ;)
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings below the cut!
Warnings: thigh grinding, restraints, anal plugs, mommy kink, praise kink, some slight degradation, strap-ons, squirting (if you squint)
x-x-x
The work day seemed to drag on after your encounter with Emily in her office. You tried to focus on your paperwork, tried to keep your eyes from straying towards her office, but you were struggling. You left work around five, wanting to go home and freshen up before heading towards Emily’s apartment.
As you finished your shower, where you took extra time to exfoliate, shave, and moisturize, you got a text from your boss that accelerated your heartbeat.
Emily: Arrive by seven, no later. When you get here, come in and follow the directions on the counter.
You could already feel the excitement bubbling up at the prospect of what the night was going to bring, so you just liked the text and finished getting ready. You did your makeup a little heavier, smokier around the eyes, a dark red lipstick adorning your lips. You opted for a simple black lace set of undergarments, figuring it wouldn’t be on too long to make a real difference, and a simple white cotton shirt and jeans.
You left your place with enough time to get to Emily’s slightly before seven, not wanting to start the night off on the wrong foot. When you opened her door, you could hear a slight thumping bass echoing from further in the apartment. Your eyes scanned the main entryway, not seeing Emily. Walking to the counter in the kitchen, you saw a note folded in half with your name on it in Emily’s loopy scrawl and a gift bag beside it. Opening the note, you felt your already fast heart rate speed up even more.
“Be a good girl for me, angel, and take off everything you’re wearing and put on what I’ve bought for you. Meet me upstairs when you’re ready. Second door on the left.”
Going through the gift bag, you gasped at the high quality material of the lingerie, the color seemingly black in the low light of the apartment. Bringing the garment fully out of the bag, you saw that it was actually a very dark green, a color that was one of your favorites and went well with your skin tone. The lingerie was more intricate than you originally speculated. The entire set matched completely, from the panties to the bra to the garter. There were multiple criss-crossing lines and a hint of a floral pattern on the main pieces that covered your privates. It was complex, but still sophisticated without being too much. A matching satin robe was also in the bag.
You got dressed quickly, placing your clothes on the counter folded up. You wouldn’t be needing them for a while.
You took a deep breath, centering yourself before beginning the climb up the stairs to where Emily was waiting for you. As you got closer to the room, you could smell a light, fragrant smell and see the flickering of the candle light from the hallway.
With one more deep breath, you walked into the room.
Your breath immediately caught in your lungs, stuttering out in a rapid staccato beat.
Emily was lounging in an oversize, plush chair in the corner of her room reading a book. Her hair was down, a slight wave to it from being exposed to the air all day. She, too, had on a satin robe, hiding whatever was underneath. You wondered if her apparel matched yours or differed. To be honest, you weren’t sure you really even cared that much. You’d enjoy taking it off, though.
But what had you absolutely hypnotized were the glasses that adorned her face, simple in shape, but drawing attention to her beautiful eyes. The frames sat a little lower on the bridge of her nose, having fallen slightly while her head was tilted down reading.
“You’re staring, pretty girl,” Emily’s voice brought you out of your ogling.
“You expect me not to? When you look like that?”
Emily smirked, her eyes flicking over the pages, trying to equalize her attention between you and her book.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m wearing a robe. Nothing much to gawk at.”
You cleared your throat, your toes scrunching up in the carpet beneath your feet. Breathily, you said, “it’s the glasses.”
At that, Emily slowly closed her book, her eyes glancing up at you from under the lenses. Her pupils were dark, or so you thought, with the lighting in the room being what it was. She looked….hungry. Like she was assessing you.
“Is that so?” She placed the book on the table beside the chair. She crossed her legs, putting each of her arms on the arms of the chair. She looked every bit of a woman in charge, a queen on a plush throne.
You swallowed heavily. The temperature of the room felt like it increased five degrees with the way that Emily was looking at you. You nodded, already not trusting your voice to be steady.
Emily tilted her head to the side, pulling her glasses off, bringing the temple piece that wrapped around her ear to between her teeth, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. “Do me a favor and take that robe off. Slowly.”
A deep inhale through your nose, you reached towards the tie of the robe, dragging it carefully between each finger, feeling the satin heat with each pass. Deliberately, you tugged the tie loose, letting the robe fall gently open. You watched as Emily’s eyes tracked every movement as the robe opened, but still kept most of the lingerie covered. With the tie undone, you drew your hands up the open sides of the robe, thoughtfully brushing your pinkies against your already hardened nipples. You let your head fall back slightly as you pulled the robe down your shoulders lazily, taking your time in exposing each inch of you. As more and more skin came into view, you watched as Emily’s grip tightened on the arm rests of the chair, as if she wanted to reach out and rip the robe from your body.
You paused for a second, waiting for Emily’s eyes to catch yours before dropping the robe completely. Emily managed to keep eye contact with you for a few seconds after the robe hit the floor, but curiosity got the better of her, her eyes languidly caressing each miniscule part of you. You watched as her eyes traveled each intricate strap of your lingerie, taking in how well it complemented your figure. You watched as she swallowed, her tongue tracing her lower lip before her eyes met yours again.
“You look absolutely delicious, baby.”
Emily’s use of pet names were a sure fire way to get you to melt into the perfect headspace for the evening ahead. It made you feel special, looked after, and most importantly, hers. You’ve always enjoyed just the right amount of possessiveness with your partners; a way to finally feel like you belong to someone who will take care of you.
“Thank you,” you all but whispered.
Emily took another second to let her eyes travel over your body before beckoning you to her. “Come here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. She placed her glasses on the table beside the chair.
You walked slowly across the carpet, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. As you neared, Emily uncrossed her legs and gestured to the spot between them. Stopping between her legs, her hands lightly gripped your hips, keeping you in place.
Emily took a quick breath, her thumbs rubbing circles on the sides of the lingerie, feeling the straps and lace. She looked up at you, which made you feel powerful, like you were controlling the shots. Even though you knew that she was absolutely in control. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to. We can stop at any time.”
You smiled briefly, your hand coming up and tilting her chin upwards to get a better look at her. To make sure she heard you when you spoke. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I want you to do whatever you want to me, Em.” Your thumb caressed her bottom lip, smiling a little when her tongue flicked over it. “But you better believe when you’re done I get my turn.”
Emily let out an almost silent moan, but you caught it. She took a deep breath. “Anything I should know before starting? Anything off the table?”
You decided she’d been talking enough. The checking in was cute, sweet even, but you were pretty sure your panties were already ruined. You leaned down and kissed her softly. “I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page. I’ll stop you if I’m uncomfortable. Stoplight to check in, red and vanilla are my hard stops. Now touch me before I do it myself.”
At that, Emily let out an almost animalistic growl. She roughly grabbed your waist, sliding back in the chair and pulling you onto her thigh. What you couldn’t see underneath her robe previously was a silicone grinder, a small oval pad with various bumps and ridges on it that was strapped to her thigh. Emily immediately forced your hips down and back and forth, which made you very aware of how these bumps felt against your clit.
“Ride me, babygirl.”
Your hands shot out to Emily’s shoulders as your hips started moving back and forth. You could feel the silicone ridges through your panties, which were already soaked. The feel of the fabric and the texture of the bumpy silicone was already driving you a little crazy. It was causing just enough pressure to rile you up, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to cum just from this.
Emily sat back, her hands moving towards your knees, rubbing the skin there. “Look at you. You’ve been here less than ten minutes and you’re already desperate to cum.” She caught your wild, wide eyes. “Such a whore for me and I’ve barely touched you.”
The moan you let out was desperate, echoing how you were already feeling. “Please, Em,” you said, gripping her hair in your hand, tilting her head back so you could meet her lips in a frenzied kiss. Your tongue brushed over hers, tasting the wine she’d had when she got home from work and something that was just Emily.
She pulled back, a little breathlessly, stopping the frantic movements of your hips. “Off, baby. Take off the lingerie.”
You were panting, not wanting to stop your movements. But the idea of the silicone rubbing directly against your wet, swollen clit was more than enough to get you to get up. You basically tore the lingerie off, not caring where it ended up on the floor. Before she could even say anything else, you were taking Emily’s robe off, too, wanting to see what she had on underneath it.
As you slid the robe from her shoulders, your breath caught again. Emily was wearing a matching deep red lace set of bra and panties. You caught her eyes again as your pussy remade contact with the silicone strapped to her strong thigh. “You’re beautiful, you know,” you said, your hands resting lightly on the exposed skin of her chest right above her breasts.
She smiled lightly, her hands making their way back to your now unclothed body. “You are too, pretty girl. And you’re going to be even more beautiful when you cum for me over and over and over again.” Her hands circled your waist, each hand grabbing at your ass. “Now move.”
Your hips immediately began a brutal pace, the feeling of the ridges and lumps of the silicone feeling much more intense after taking off your panties. Each movement forward and backward dragged your clit against them, creating the most delicious friction that was rubbing against you in just the right ways. With each movement, you were pushed that much closer to tumbling over the edge, the familiar tightening in your lower belly telling you that you were close.
“Look at you, how you’re dripping for me. You’re already so close.” Emily’s hands traveled up your body, her thumbs brushing across your hardened nipples. As her fingers began pulling on them, she growled out, “now be a good little slut and cum for me, baby.”
The fact that Emily already knew how to push you closer to cumming, the way she knew how to touch you, the way her voice had deepened, becoming almost gravelly, you couldn’t help but follow her directions. Your head tilted back, your spine arching towards her, as you moaned loudly, “fuck, mommy!”
You continued to ride Emily’s thigh through your first orgasm, feeling your juices spread over the silicone toy. As you came down from the high, you realized what you said and embarrassingly brought your head back up and looked at Emily.
Emily’s eyes had dilated to the point where there was no color left in them, her chest heaving with quick breaths. “What did you just call me?”
Your eyes shifted to the side, not wanting to meet hers. You cleared your throat a little, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Mommy.”
Emily brought her body flush against yours, the lace of her bra brushing against your breasts. Her hand captured your chin, forcing you to look at her. “That’s right, little girl.” Her thumb brushed against your lips, pulling it from between your teeth. “Now you better scream that every single time you cum for me tonight, understood?”
You took Emily’s thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it briefly before sucking on it. “Yes, mommy.”
Emily trailed her now slick thumb down the column of your throat, watching as you swallowed with the movement. You watched as it trailed between your breasts, down your belly, before moving towards your hip. Emily took one more glance at you before pulling you harder against her, her hands under your thighs as she lifted you up, your legs immediately coming around her waist.
She carried you a small distance to the bed, laying you down against it before hovering over you. “Arms up and legs spread, love.”
You put your arms up and Emily immediately strapped them down to the ties she already had on the bed. She made sure they were tight enough that you couldn’t move much, but not tight enough to hurt you. When she was done with your hands, she grabbed each of your knees and placed them in similar ties. But, she didn’t strap them to the bottom of the bed. Instead, she bent your knees, and tied them to the top of the bed as well. In this position, your knees were almost flush with your chest and your thighs were spread open to an almost uncomfortable stretch. It left you completely and utterly exposed, the cool air of the room spreading goosebumps across your skin.
“You look so pretty all tied down and spread open for me, baby,” Emily said, kneeling between your spread legs, trailing her hands over your body.
You could feel yourself flushing under her intense gaze, your breath panting.
As Emily’s hands made their way down your body, your hips tried to buck up into them, trying to get them to move further down. “Please, Em, touch me,” you whined.
Emily lowly chuckled, “I am touching you, sweetheart.” Her hands skimmed across your thighs, dangerously close to your aching center. “But if you want something specific, you just have to ask.”
Your earlier orgasm did nothing to dwindle the heat spreading through your core; you needed desperately to cum again. “Your tongue, your fingers, it doesn’t matter, Emily. Just fuck me,” you breathed out.
You watched as Emily inhaled deeply, her eyes lazily trailing over your exposed cunt, almost as if deciding how she wanted to take you next. You almost pleaded that she could fuck you over and over if she was undecided, but before you could, Emily’s tongue made contact with your sodden folds and you lost the breath in your lungs.
You struggled in your ties with each tortuously slow pass of Emily’s tongue over your lower lips. Each pass got closer and closer to both your entrance and your clit, but never made contact. Emily alternated between fast and slow motions, flattening her tongue before rolling it into a point. The constant changing of pace was driving you crazy, it only riled you up without getting you there.
You could feel your wetness seeping out of you, slowly dripping down your backside and pooling on the sheets beneath. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before and you were sure it was only going to get worse as Emily continued to play with you.
After what seemed like a tortuous few minutes, Emily’s tongue finally made contact with your swollen nub, zeroing in on the patterns that drove you craziest. Little flicks of her tongue had you gasping, fast circles had you trying to buck your hips even in your confined pose.
Each pass of her tongue pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the coil expanding in your belly ready to burst. You whispered a quiet ‘please, please please’ under your breath, but it caught Emily’s attention, her eyes flicking up to you.
“Cum all over my mouth, pretty girl, so I can finally fuck you with my cock,” she said, her tongue immediately going back to your clit. Emily brought two fingers up under her chin, thrusting inside of you without any warning.
That’s all it took for you to come undone, your entire body tensing as wave after wave rushed through you. But you didn’t have an opportunity to come down from your high, as Emily continued to thrust her fingers inside of you.
“One more for me, baby. Wanna make sure your pretty pussy is nice and ready for me.”
You almost sobbed in oversensitivity, but Emily switched to pulsating her fingers inside of you, her tongue lightly tracing your outer lips. It was enough delicious friction to keep you from coming down from your last orgasm, but enough to not make it painfully sensitive to where you wanted to stop.
For the first time sleeping together, Emily was already quickly becoming a master of your body. It only took a few more seconds of Emily’s tongue wrapped around your clit, and a hand tugging at your turgid nipples for you to cum again.
Emily lazily lapped at you, drinking down everything you had to give. As you caught your breath, you started giggling under your breath.
Emily’s hands traveled up your body, slowly untying you, massaging your limbs to restore blood flow. “What’s so funny, hm?” She asked, mirth in her eyes.
“If I had known talking about sex would’ve gotten me in this position, I would’ve done it on my first day with the BAU,” you said smiling, trying to catch your breath.
Emily smirked back at you, placing small kisses all over your body as you calmed down. “If I had known all I had to do to have you in my bed was mention getting laid, I would’ve done it much sooner.”
You trailed your hand down, gripping Emily’s chin in your hand. Catching her gaze, you quirked an eyebrow in question.
Emily rolled her eyes at you. “Yes, I’ve wanted you in my bed since you started the team. Can you blame me? Look at you,” she said, her eyes traversing over your skin.
You felt your body flush in nervous excitement, unbelieving that your very capable, very hot boss harbored the same feelings you did.
Before you could question her further, Emily sat back on her heels, her hands rubbing soothing circles over your knees. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want to take a break?”
You smiled, finding it adorable that she was always looking out for you. But it wasn’t necessary. “I was promised to cum on your cock, was I not?” You smirked at her. You had a feeling that the dirty talk was to Emily as the pet names were to you.
Emily pinched your hip, rolling off of the bed before disappearing into her closet. “Lose the attitude before I come back or I’ll fuck it out of you, angel,” she tossed over her shoulder, missing the way your entire body shivered in anticipation. You hoped this was just the beginning of exploring each other's bodies.
When Emily came out of the closet, you had to stop yourself from drooling. Attached to her hips was a decently sized cock, a dark purple shade that wasn’t too silly looking. Emily was already a confident person, but something about the added appendage gave her extra swagger. She looked comfortable in it, experienced. You couldn’t wait to see how she took it out on you.
“Hands and knees, pretty girl.”
You rolled over without having to be asked twice. It was one of your favorite positions to be fucked in, the depth of which you could feel the fake phallus almost always took your breath away and left you trembling.
In your admiration of how Emily looked packing, you missed all of the other goodies she was carrying in her hands. You felt the bed dip behind you, Emily’s hands spreading your thighs apart, leaving your pussy exposed to the cool air of the room.
“You look so pretty like this, waiting for me. You were wet before, but now you’re absolutely dripping down your thighs.”
A swift smack to the outer aspect of your ass left you bucking into the air, trying to feel Emily’s strap behind you. Her hands massaged the rounded globes of your ass, feeling the muscles beneath her hands quiver. “How do you feel about plugs?” She asked, pulling apart your cheeks to watch the way your entire lower half clenched in anticipation.
Emily lowly chuckled, “Mh, seems like that’s a yes, but I need verbal consent, baby.” One of her hands drifted down, gathering your abundant wetness, before slicking some back up to your puckered hole, smearing it around the outside.
Your breath was already coming in fast pants and you could feel the way the blood was rushing south. Your skin felt electric, buzzing, as if every hair was standing straight up in attention. You took a deep, steadying breath, pulling air in through your nose before exhaling slowly through your mouth. “Please, Em, put it inside me and then fuck me,” you breathed. “Wanna be so full of you,” you whined, pushing your hips back at her.
Emily gripped your hips harder, whimpering at how much that turned her on. How much you turned her on. She grabbed the plug from beside her on the bed, rubbing it between your legs to gather your wetness. You had to stop yourself from thrusting against it, the pressure only minimal on your clit.
Emily trailed the plug up, watching as you arched your back, exposing more of you to her. She had to take a second to compose herself, not wanting to hurt you. Slowly, she inched the plug inside of you, watching as your body expanded and contracted taking it in.
Once it was fully inside, you had to take multiple shuddering breaths as Emily rubbed your hips. You’ve used plugs before, but with the way Emily commanded your body, you were at a pleasure you’ve never been at before.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” Emily said, bending over and placing small kisses around your ass, letting you adjust to the pressure of it inside you. “I can’t wait to watch and listen to you cum for me.”
The whine you let out was almost pathetic; you could hear the desperation in your voice. “Please, Em, fuck me now.” Your legs spread a little more, opening you up further. The pleasure was already so intense that your upper body collapsed against the bed.
You could feel Emily move a little behind you. She trailed the head of the strap along your lower lips, lubricating it with your own wetness, watching you tremble each time it passed over your clit. Emily looked down, the shininess of the cock making her almost whine, before leaning down and spitting on it to further lubricate it. She used her hand to rub up and down, making sure it was well coated before lining it up with your entrance. “Ready, baby?”
“Fuck me, mommy, now.”
Emily didn’t hesitate, thrusting into you slowly, but with the confidence and force you needed. The cock dragged along your inner walls, but also against the plug that was nestled inside. The pressure was enough to have you clawing at the sheets for some sort of relief, not that you wanted to get away from how good it felt. It was simultaneously everything and not enough.
Emily, still able to read you like a book, started moving faster, her thrusts shallow, allowing you to feel each ridge and bump of the silicone cock inside of you. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” she moaned.
There was something about hearing Emily moan, whimper, and whine for you. Her voice had gotten more intense, gravelly, and you wanted it to wrap around you so you could melt into it.
You started to thrust back against her, wanting it harder and deeper and more. You pushed up onto your hands, feeling the way each thrust made your breasts bounce back and forth. You couldn’t help any of the noises that were tumbling from your lips, your body just sinking into the buzz of pleasure and riding the waves. Again, you could feel the pressure building up inside you, like flames ready to explode.
Emily’s hand made its way into your hair, grabbing a handful and yanking you upwards. Your back now pressed against her front, you could feel her rapid breathing and hardened nipples at your back, only fueling the fire inside you more. Her thrusts never slowed down, but managed to hit a deeper spot inside you.
“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ around my cock, baby.” A few more deep thrusts and you knew you were going to cum hard.
Not wanting to disappoint Emily, you started to thrust back harder, trying to get her deeper inside you. Knowing you needed a little more, one of her hands traversed down your front, quickly finding your hardened nub and started rubbing fast circles in time with her thrusts. Her other hand went the opposite direction, sliding around your throat, gripping it tightly sending you into another harsh wave of euphoria.
Emily’s lips made home on the side of your neck, licking and sucking, tasting the salty sweat that had accumulated there. “Be a good girl for mommy and cum for me, now.”
Your entire body seized, a loud moan spewed from your mouth, continuing with each little drive of Emily’s hips against yours as she fucked you through the orgasm. Unable to hold yourself up, Emily lowered you gently to the bed, her hips slowing to a stop. She smoothed your hair away from your face, her breath coming out in puffs helping to cool you off some.
Emily went to pull out of you, but the whine of protest left before she was even half way out. “Oh? What’s that, babygirl?”
You tried to glance back at her, your eyes barely catching before you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I want you to cum inside me, Em.” You wiggled your hips back a little more, moaning as her cock went back inside your pulsating cunt. “Make me cum one more time, please,” you almost begged.
“Fucking hell,” she whimpered, starting to slowly thrust into you again. Your body had had enough time to settle that you knew you could cum again, but you knew it was going to drain you.
Laying down like you were, the pressure of both her cock and the plug inside you was even more pronounced. You tried to angle your hips up, tried to lift a leg and bend a knee to switch up the position, but you weren’t sure it was enough. You needed something different.
Almost as if she was inside your head, Emily pulled out. Before you could protest much, she rolled over and dragged you on top of her. She helped you line up your cunt with her cock, and she moaned at watching you sink back down on it.
You weren’t sure if you had the energy to do all of the work bouncing up and down, so you rolled your hips back and forth, watching as Emily’s face contorted in pleasure. With each forward roll of your hips, Emily’s eyes almost rolled back, and that’s when you realized part of the cock was inside her and each move you made could be felt inside her as well.
Knowing Emily had a thing for your dirty mouth, you knew this was your turn to get her off. “Look at me, Em. Look how deep you are inside me.”
Emily’s blown pupils met yours, her lip caught between her teeth as she tried not to fuck into you, letting you run the show.
“You look so good under me, Em. I bet you’d look even better if I was the one fucking you.”
Emily’s nostrils flared, her hands shooting up to grab your hips as her feet planted firmly on the mattress. “Next time.” One of her hands moved to the base of the strap, holding it as you rutted against it. “For now, I want you to cum hard on mommy’s cock like the good little whore you are.”
You whimpered out a quick, “yes, mommy,” before grinding harder against her. Before you could get too invested in your pace, Emily’s hand that had been holding the cock pressed the button that made the vibrations come to life.
Your mouth opened wide, your eyes just as big, as you felt the pleasure run through your entire body.
Emily smirked up at you, almost sadistically, before starting to thrust up at you from below. You could tell that she was just as close as you were, the way her hands were gripping tighter to your hips. Emily’s own hips were moving at almost a break-neck pace, brushing your front wall and clit with each thrust out, and going deeper than before on each thrust in.
This time, the pressure coiled in your lower belly, expanding outwards to all of your extremities, before coiling its way back into your torso. The vibrations seemed to match your rapid heart beat, as if you could feel each pulsating buzz in every one of your cells. Your head was tossed back, trying not to break as wave after wave brushed through you.
You only came back to Earth when you felt Emily’s fingers start to rub your clit in time with the vibrations. You glanced down at her, captivated by her look of utter primal need, like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment.
“Together,” she said.
Fireworks. Volcanic eruption. The explosion of stars.
You felt your cunt clamp down on the cock inside of it, Emily trying to continue to fuck you through each swell of pleasure, the pressure finally releasing with a gush of wetness as your body trembled with Emily’s.
As the euphoria left both of you, you lowered your body to Emily’s trying to quell the tremors that were wreaking havoc on your system.
Emily’s hands came up, holding you to her, smoothing over your back. Her lips found their way to the side of your face, peppering little kisses on any part of you they could reach. “Such a good girl for me, baby.” She continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you caught your breath.
“Lets get cleaned up, hm? I’ll run us a bath?”
You leaned up, catching her eyes. You could see all of the contentment and ecstasy in hers, but also the nervousness. As if you might leave any second.
You smiled, leaning up to kiss her gently, trying to convey everything you were feeling. That this wasn’t a one time thing for you. That she wasn’t just a one off. “A bath sounds great.”
Emily smiled back at you, twirling a piece of your hair with her fingers.
Now everyone including her was getting laid around here.
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss#virescent v fanfic#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss fanfiction#no use of y/n#except me part 2#if you want to see the lingerie that inspired that scene lmk :P
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Okay back for some more art related questions.
How did you make fpk so pink without actually making him pink? I feel like every time I try to draw a pale character with an undertone of color, it looks like that color even though on the color wheel I added like 3% of the color.
How long does it take you to do your art? For an example how long did the fpk reference sheet take you compared to The Cycle art piece with Grimm?
How do you eyeball man? Your art is literally the reference pictures I use to try and draw dark eyes but every time I try to draw them, it looks like Kawaii eyes. Like the eyes in this emoji:🥺. How do you do it?
it all comes down to a very simple thing - it's about highlights that trick your mind into seeing a different color. i'll mainly talk about pink here cause that applies to fpk and i have examples, but i'm sure you could apply this to other colors
here he is with the pink highlights, without them, and what he would look like if he was actually pink. see the difference? he's still predominantly light gray, but the pink details make you see it as more pink-tinted than he actually is
it's not a 1:1 match since he's leucistic as opposed to fully albino, but i was heavily inspired by pictures like these:
if you notice, they're not pink, all of them are white, but the pink areas around the mouths or in the shadows make them appear pink-ish
his pre-hibernation look is a lot closer to these pictures, since his soul glow made him more white than light gray (he also has very subtle iridescence)
the lineart also plays a big role in making a white/gray character appear to have a certain color
here's fpk as you see him on the ref with gray lines + pink highlights, with the highlights removed, and with pink lines (the shadow behind the horns was adjusted as well to match the lines)
both 1 and 3 appear to look light pink. the third one especially affects how the body looks, so depending how subtle you want the effect you may choose between the two options. or mix them, whatever you like. and as you can see, the colors on the last two are identical, but the one on the right looks more pink
(and if i'm being honest, i may actually snatch those pink lines for future drawings, cause i really like how that looks hahah)
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2. it's very difficult to say, i get distract easily so i never keep a proper count. but the unshaded drawings don't take very long, unless there's a pose or any other details that gives me trouble, and i focus all my attention on it, i'd finish the lineart and color phases in probably around 30 minutes? the sketch always influences the length of the process the most, so there's no single way to determine it
and in the case of references, it naturally adds up. the last updates aren't exactly the most reliable way to deduce that since a lot of them were just updates to existing drawings. but if i were to start from scratch, had clear poses in mind and didn't get distracted, i could probably get it done in like two hours
as for the more detailed drawings, they take a lot longer. again, i can't really say how long, the cycle drawing took me a few sittings, but if i had to guess it was probably a few hours in total? maybe around 5? just guessing
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3. depends which style i go for. in the unshaded style i keep the eyes simple. one flat color and two lighter colors for the reflections. the more subtle ones play a big part, they make the eye look more 3d and wet. and that also carries over to the painted, shaded style, which includes additional lighting and some details. i particularly like the little star shaped reflections, i think they're adorable but they're subtle enough where they're not distracting
another big part of how i paint his big black pupils is their reflective nature. in a brown room, they'll look more brown than black and so on. it's very exaggerated, normally such eyes wouldn't change color to such a drastic extent, but i think it makes the drawings look more interesting
i can't really offer any specific tips other than that, since i kinda make it up as i go. but using photo references is always helpful, especially for different eye colors
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hii!! i was wondering if I could ask what is your usual colouring process? how much time one fully coloured piece and doodle take! I adore your ocs so much they inspire me to draw more myself:3 they feel so alive!
hi anon! thank you vey much, i'm very happy to hear that you feel inspired!
i wrote up a little something for your questions under the cut:
so, first of all, the way i color things ranges from drawing to drawing, especially if i feel like playing around in the process. sometimes i decide to try something out (palette, filter, technique, brush etc) and if i really like how it looks i may recolor the entire drawing lol. point is, there's a lot of sidetracks to my process (especially now, since i'm trying to get used to a different art program than the one i used previously) but the very basics of it are as follows:
1. i sketch and line whatever it is that i want to draw (this might take a while depending on whether i have a solid idea right away or not; in the latter case i might do some thumbnails first to figure out how i want the drawing to look. you can't really see here, but when i line things i usually draw on the same layer as the sketch, and after i'm done i adjust the brightness/contrast settings of the layer to get rid of the sketch underneath. it might seem like i'm just making my life harder this way, especially since this method only works if you sketch with a lighter color (or make it lighter in settings before starting lineart) and your lineart is drawn with a solid opaque brush (which is how i always draw), but it helps me to not get caught up on trying to make the lineart precisely follow the sketch. it also makes changing things on the go much easier, since i only have to erase on one layer.
2. after i'm done lining, i underpaint with a solid color (usually the skin color, but sometimes something random), then block the alpha channel and color over it with flats;
3. i don't color everything at once, instead going piece by piece, which helps to keep the drawing balanced color and contrast wise. i pick a desired area with magic wand and then go about rendering it properly (which usually involves adding some value variance with an airbrush and then laying down shadows/highlights/etc). you can't see this here either, because for some reason i forgot to do it this once, but i also usually lower the opacity of the lineart layer halfway when i color. it helps me concentrate on colors and how they look together better;
4. when i'm satisfied with color, i recolor the lineart to be whatever color i think fits the piece better and change lineart layer settings to either multiply, color burn, or linear burn. after that i just play around with filters, add decorative details, and clean everything up. it's also worth noting that sometimes i starts trying out filters/effects directly while coloring because i want to explore some alternative colors or palettes; i also have a tendency to pick very pale & unsaturated colors so messing around with HSB (hue/saturation/brightness) & depth/contrast settings while coloring helps a lot.
5. cropping it & there you go!
this one took me 1,2 hours. depending on how complex the drawing is it might take me much longer (especially if im working on a commission) so i'd say my average time drawing is somewhere between 2-6 hours. if a drawing takes longer than that i break it apart into several days of work. don't draw for too long! it's bad for your health.
as for sketches, as i mentioned previously, it all depends on whether i know what i want to draw or not, and if i do, i usually just go straight at it:
this one took me 20 minutes. on average, a doodle can take anywhere from 10 to 40 minutes, more if i want to make it look fancy, but at that point it enters the vast limbo between sketch and finished piece.
that's it! sorry the gif quality is really bad, it's the best i could do. here's a video of the same stuff, hopefully in somewhat better resolution
#character: kotya#character: shurik#setting: robot#artist: cbge#askbox#had to cut out footage of me playing with filters bc it was flashing rly bad
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I’ve been drawing for a long as I can remember
Some of my earliest memories of drawing were from when I was a young child, when I was trying to teach myself to draw love hearts by drawing a still life of my apple-shaped Polly Pocket play set, and doodling snowmen and flowers on my bedroom window with special window markers my mom got me
I never had any formal art education growing up, and the fact I became a decent artist even though I was self-taught became a point of pride for me
It wasn’t until I was in middle school that self doubt and insecurity started to imbed themselves into my mind and disperse that pride, bc that’s when I finally met other kids my age who were also artists like me
That didn’t really bother me at first, bc I was mostly just excited to meet other kids who liked drawing as much as I did, but then I began doing something that’s impacted my work and my self esteem for years to come
I compared my art to theirs
I looked at how much more technically proficient their art was in comparison to mine, how much more polished their drawings were in comparison to mine… how their art generally looked better than mine
That budding self consciousness didn’t stop me from drawing, I loved making art too much to let my newfound self doubt keep me from engaging with my favorite hobby, but it did shape how I’d see my own art from that point on
Fast forward to day two of my freshman year of art school, and my Drawing Foundations instructor had my class sit around the model stand in the center of the studio, where she had placed a bunch of random still life objects that she wanted us to draw (for clarification, she only wanted us to draw one object of our choosing, bc there were a lot of objects in front of us and we only had like 30 minutes to work)
As everyone else started to work, I took a moment to decide which object I’d choose to draw, which already put me on edge bc another insecurity I developed over the years was that I work slower than other artists, so the fact I didn’t start drawing immediately like everyone else didn’t make me feel very good
As such, my slow pacing was a big factor into deciding to draw the object that was directly in front of me: a small, plastic rocking horse for babies
When my instructor ended the exercise, she had us line up our drawings on the large window sill so we could all look at our collective work. I was a bit nervous bc I wasn’t fully satisfied with my rushed drawing, but I did what I was instructed to do
And when I took a step back to look at all the drawings side by side, I felt crushed
Bc while I was struggling to finish a drawing of a simple baby toy in time, everyone else made drawings of the various vases, flowers, fruits, and the lone longhorn skull that looked more complete (or “better”) than mine
Idk why my immediate next thought made such an impact on me, especially when it was never really something I worried about too much before that day, but after seeing all the drawings we made, I thought to myself, “my drawing is so juvenile compared to everyone else’s”
What exactly made it “juvenile”? Well, nowadays I couldn’t really tell you, but back then I would’ve said it was bc of 2 reasons:
My personal drawing style didn’t look as “mature” as everyone else’s (Idk what that means, but that’s how I felt at the time)
I was the only one in my whole class who chose to draw the rocking horse (the only object on the stand that had bright colors and was explicitly a toy for kids)
I spent the rest of the class feeling insecure about my childish rocking horse drawing, so much so that I almost had a breakdown some time afterwards (I’d go on to have at least two of those over the next four years, but for completely different reasons)
It was during that particular low moment, when I was on the brink of crying over something as insignificant as a dumb drawing of a toy, that I finally had enough. I realized that I wasn’t gonna survive art school if this was how I felt about every piece I made moving forward. And more importantly, I just didn’t want to keep feeling the way I did anymore; those were feelings I’ve had for 8 years at that point, and I was tired of feeling so bad about the art I made when I used to be so proud of it
So, at that moment, I made myself a promise: I was going to stop comparing my work to others
It wasn’t easy, especially early on, but I realized I needed to let go of my insecurities if I wanted to improve (in relation to both my art and my mental state), so… I tried
I tried to stop thinking about how I couldn’t execute a technique as well as someone else. I tried to remind myself that it’s ok that I couldn’t finish an in-class assignment while others could. I tried to explain to myself why it was okay if my art looked (or simply was) “juvenile”, especially if making the piece ultimately made me happy. I tried to think of all the things about my art that I did like, things that could only be found in my work and no one else’s
It took a while, but I’m proud to say that my efforts eventually paid off, and I was eventually able to stop comparing my art to other’s
And from then on, I felt so much better about the art I produced, whether it was for school or for myself
Being able to make art again without those insecurities weighing me down was incredible, and my newfound confidence kinda reflected in the quality of my work as well
The reason why I’m sharing all of this is bc I recently saw someone express very similar feelings of insecurity over their own art being “childish”, and I shared my own experiences and advice with them in hopes it’d help them feel better about their work. And after a bit, I realized that this person is most likely not they only one that’s currently dealing with these feelings of inadequacy. Maybe you, the artist who’s reading this right now, feel the same way about your own work. Or maybe you know an artist, either in person or online, who feels this way. Regardless, I figured that if I was able to help that one person I reached out to personally, then hopefully by publicly sharing my experience and the advice I gave to them, I can help someone else
Whether your work looks “worse” than that of other artists is inconsequential. Art isn’t a competition or a race, as no two artists will ever have the same experiences, pacing, preferences, or goals. There’s no need to compare yourself to anyone else bc no one else will ever make art the way you do, and that’s not a bad thing by any means
And most importantly, art is subjective. There’s no definitive scale for what’s “good” or “compelling” or even “childish”, there isn’t even a universal basis for what constitutes as “art” to begin with, so any judgements people make about art are entirely personal to the ones making said judgements
For example, my little cousin made a painting a few years ago, when she was still a child, and when I first saw it framed on their living room wall, I honestly thought it was an abstract piece by some professional artist. It wasn’t technically impressive in the sense that you couldn’t believe a child was skilled enough to make something like it, bc it was honestly just a bunch of scribbles and lines that you’ve probably seen in any other painting made by an inexperienced child. However, to me, the placement and weight of those scribbles and lines seemed so intentional, it gave me the impression it was a purposeful abstraction of a building made by an adult with artistic experience
Hell, in my third year of art school, I cited Leonid Afremov as one of the artists I admired/drew inspiration from during my final crit, and after I showed my professor one of Afremov’s paintings, he told me to my face that he thought I, an amateur artist, was a better painter than Afremov
In order for you to understand my disbelief and flattery at that statement, this is the painting I made that was being critiqued that day
And this is one of Afremov’s paintings that I showed my professor
Do I agree with my professor? Do I think I’m a better painter than Leonid Afremov?
No, absolutely not; do you see that painting??
But that’s kinda my point: I don’t think my work is anywhere near that of Afremov’s, but my professor saw something in my art, something “weird”, that he valued more than whatever he saw in Afremov’s work. Something not even I could see myself, even to this day
Simply put, while you might not think highly of your work, while you might believe it’s unimpressive or “childish” in comparison to the works of other/more experienced artists, other people won’t see your art the way you do. In fact, they might be impressed by it, and the idea that it’s “childish” might not even cross their minds. Or maybe it will, but it either won’t change how much they like it, or it’ll make them like it even more
If you feel as insecure about your art as I used to, I urge you to try. Any time you feel like your work isn’t as “mature”, polished, or impressive as another’s, try to remember that it’s ok if you can’t draw as well as more experienced artists, if you don’t understand color theory or lighting or perspective like they do, if you can’t emulate the same techniques they utilize in their work, or even if your work is “childish” in any way. Try to allow yourself to be proud of your art, regardless of what it is or how it looks, bc the fact you can even make art at all is an achievement that you should be proud of
So be proud of yourself
You deserve it
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hi hi hello hi I think you're my only sio mutual that's active anymore (': I looked up the welcome 2 elsewhere site because I just randomly remembered it earlier and honestly am I the only one who misses that era? like the bright and colorful aesthetic with the super trippy and horror visuals? the arg they put together? the dyed hair? like maaaan don't get me wrong I'm happy about the new era but elsewhere was taken from us too soon </3 maybe I need to make more art of it lol
Hi!! I'm so glad you sent this ask because I love the elsewhere era so much, I could genuinely talk about it for hours. So here, have this extremely long essay about my experience.
I discovered set it off in early 2021, so the elsewhere era was the first full album cycle I experienced. And my god it was perfect! I was on holiday when the website went up along with the teaser for skeleton, and I remember so clearly trying to figure out all the puzzles before retreating alone back to our hotel room to figure out minesweeper. The feeling of excitement as the discord was going crazy trying to figure everything out was unmatched!
And then skeleton came out, and I was genuinely obsessed. I had just moved into an awful shared house for my second year at uni, so I drowned all my sorrows by putting the song on repeat, drawing the band almost constantly and of course, making the lyric video that would start my channel! The hype was so massive, the dyed hair was iconic, I genuinely lived and breathed the multicoloured aesthetic. I bought every single merch thing I could (my room decor and t shirts still reflect this.) I got a switch that year, and immediately named my island elsewhere.
Every time the website changed, the excitement was so palpable that I dropped everything I was doing when it happened. Of course I had projector and who's in control on loop when they came out, and while I didn't like them as much as skeleton, they built so much hype for the album it was unreal. I even attended an online concert a couple months before the album came out, and it took place so late at night that I went to sleep at 5am while having to get up at 8. I was that committed.
And remember the teasers they posted to instagram and twitter? The ones they posted at 5pm every wednesday and sunday, where unscrambling the code revealed the next song title, the ones I based my elsewhere lyric videos off? I actually set an alarm on my phone so I could catch these as soon as they appeared, I was that desperate to know the next title! And of course the discord went crazy each time, the energy was unmatched. And when the album actually came out, oh my god. It was on loop for over 6 months. I thought taste of the good life was a gift from god, the amount of times I listened to it.
The hype continued throughout 2022, as demos kept coming out through the fanclub (which I paid full money for, getting one of my favourite ever hoodies in the process) and each demo seemed to be better than the next. I still have no idea how the truth about lying was cut from elsewhere and playing with bad luck stayed.
Also, I was so excited for my first ever sio concert that november. And the day 100% lived up to the expectations! I gave the boys some stickers in vip which they loved, and even got a hug from zach after explaining an obscure talk it off reference on one of his stickers. I made some great friends in line, even though I got seated tickets so I had to be separated from them, but I did still get great seats. And the concert itself!! I'm so glad I can say I've seen third wheel live, even if it was in the medley. And I still remember the pure joy I felt when I waved at cody and he waved back at me during uncontainable.
By the start of 2023 and all the "scandals" and stuff started happening, along with their slow retreat off of all social media, I could tell the era was gradually ending and I was really sad. It fully sunk in when they stopped dying their hair, and I was devastated, I almost forgot what they looked like with natural hair. Although I will say I probably got more closure on the era than you guys in america, because I actually made it to one of the end of elsewhere shows here in the uk.
I have to say, that was probably the best night of my life. I paid full price for the vip this time, so I got to actually hang around and talk to them before the show. I also got standing tickets, and managed to get barrier, which was so close to the stage I could've reached out and touched cody countless times. It was wild, and I enjoyed every second. Of course, 4 days later punching bag released, marking the proper end of elsewhere. (And they haven't toured the uk since.)
I miss this era so goddamn much. I have so much nostalgia for it, even though its barely been a year since it ended, and I really wish the current era's branding was as strong. I always felt so close to the band during elsewhere, with all the talk it off episodes and them noticing me on social media. The sense of community was strong, and I miss it a lot now they've stopped posting anything. Idk, I might be biased because it was my first time experiencing a full era.
Anyway, if you actually read all that, thanks! I really needed a good reminisce. And yes, you should make more art of elsewhere! The visuals were unmatched, especially in the music videos 💜💜
#oh my god i actually spent an hour typing all of this out#can you believe elsewhere is my favourite sio album? shocking right#i definitely shouldnt have written all that#i just felt like i needed to get it off my chest#lol its 3am now i should probably go to bed#someone asks me about elsewhere and i just black out#im both ill and sleep deprived what a combination#set it off#set it off band#sio#pow asks#elsewhere
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Hi! These comics are insanely well done, and considering it isn't just art and has a whole story behind it, I kind of wanted to know how long it typically takes you to make a panel? Seems like a lot of work haha
also your Cleo and Joel designs itch my brain in just the right place
HEY HEY I am glad to hear you like how I draw them :D They're two of my faves!
To answer your question, I don't really have a good estimate for the panels because I usually draw everything and add the text, then color after the fact. If I work really diligently it takes me like 1 hour to do a page, but my ability to focus leaves much to be desired so I tend to wander away from my work a lot.
I'd say the page of the mall fountain is probably the most time I spent on a single page....I wanna say it maybe took me like 2 hours, I was getting distracted by whatever I was watching and I went heavy on the details of the water/reflections.
I am pretty lucky since I don't shade, just add a slight gradient/highlights where I feel it will improve the mood. I also don't sketch when I draw I just go straight in, hence the really jagged and rough line work. If I was fully rendering every panel I would never get anything done!
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okay doing smth i am anxious to do but am gonna try yes! yeet opening small comissions!
these are the two different complicated styles i can do, both of them are priced at 15 dollars per person. is mostly just sketch with ink here. if you want a digital line art will probs add like 10 dollars to total but it very much depends- if want anything drawn very much will most likely discuss it a lot cause im v e r y new to this- dont even have way to get payed yet- but you know gonna figure that out once more yes!! idk-
can also do some simpler stuff with this super duper simple style for like just 5 dollar per character? again still dont know stuff fully-
if digital lined depends on how long it would take me same with flat colors. im not comfortable enough with online drawing to do complex colors but like hypothetical here, a drawing like this would cost about 80 dollars mabey?
again very loose but minimum wage is about 17 dollars per hour and this picture took me like 3 hours? mabey more 4 but i dont know again- then the aditional 2 people added 15 each but if that is bad then idk! this is try out to advertise myself and see if anyone would actually like my art-
also, if youd like me to help design a character with you id be so down! but would take a lot of work and be very variable with how much costs with how many drafts and research until you happy but i really like designing characters and helping figure out how parts of character design could work practically and all that stuffs. again, if things not best pls negotiate things!!!
lastly, i am a full time student and my studdies come first so if theres inportant tests or inportant projects i will prioritize that and not take commissions.
p.s. im still gonna make lots of fan art and do drawings that others in general want- plus if your my friend i will draw for you to show affection. this is not a negotiation, i will gib you art. thank you for reading this far if you have!!! have a nice day :>
p.p.s. if you wanted some spooky body horror art i can also draw that ;)
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" And now here I am, to my waist in water and getting drowned on the regular. "
Looks to the Moon being reminiscent of memories she no longer has... ...Featuring, my design take on Moon! Yaaay!
This is my first time actually sitting down and fully coloring and fleshing out the look, wow!
This was originally for the Rain World art month, but as it approached the end of the month I just decided to finish it on my own time, and as is often the case, my own time is usually about a month- TT+TT
[Though drawing the very last-minute background that I had NO planning beforehand other than the realization "Oh, right, Twitter doesn't do transparent images" most likely did not help...]
Despite having said all that, I actually am kind of proud of how long this took me! I tried a lot of new techniques for this!
For instance: I knew I wanted to show motion with Moon's wires and incorporate them into the piece but I wasn't really satisfied with how I draw wires, and drawing two parallel lines by hand would have taken substantially more time. SO- to counteract this I did some research into properly making my own custom brushes for my software, I use Paint Tool SAI so I don't necessarily have the luxury of softwares like Clip Studio Paint to have catalogs of brushes sadly, and was able to make my own 2-point brush!
It definitely needs some tweaks and revisions, despite being the 5th one of its kind that I made for this piece, but it served itself well for this piece and was a great help!
The texturing was also a custom brush, made by someone else but heavily tweaked to match my preferences so that I could replicate skin refracting the rain. That in itself took a LOT of time studying references and watching tutorials and tips. [Thank you Sinix Design for all you do for the art community...]
However, there's more that I wish I could've done for this piece and it is FAR from perfect. I really wanted to make the red parts of Moon's body much shinier to show that they are a different property than her skin. Part of me really wanted to add in some rain falling from the ceiling too, to better sell the look of her being in the middle of an active rain cycle. Alas, my art program was really struggling to keep up with the number of layers I already had on the canvas and... also I didn't want to spend another few hours learning how to draw raining in free fall... there was also that...
[Also I promise I am much better at drawing water and waves than this, I DID NOT plan how that shape would look in a third dimension at ALL and it suffered as a result- Oops--]
But! She's done and I'm comfortable enough with how this turned out! I'm glad to have finally properly drawn an iterator finally! It only took 6 years...
And thank YOU, yes you... for reading all my ramblings on my work and the process I went through!
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Okay @kredena-dark you have unlocked an unskippable rant!!! :D
Some of this is just me explaining stuff, so don't mind that- actually idk I'm just info dumping rn, it explaining everything in full detail, but still explaining :P
Idk how long it'll be so- CUT TIME
💚Okay- posca pens!! Fuckin love those!! It's a liquid marker of sorts and there are thinner nib ones and thicker nib ones. There's also a very limited amount of color options. Which include pastel like colors, black, white, gray, silver, gold, basic color saturated colors, forgot if the green is more of a forest green or a more vibrant green tho :P
They can be so smooth and solid looking!! Which is what I like about them!! It's like markers but better!! :D
Really wanna get every single color for myself instead of only using them at school :/
💚 Woodworking has been going really great so far!! For woodworking 1 I took last year, it was introducing all the machines, taking safety tests on those machines plus ones for how to be safe in the workshop. It's where I made a box and a shelf were the drawer is now stuck in, which sucks, plus a phone holder with 2 holes for pencils.
Woodworking 2- very nice~ I'm working on another shelf, this time with 3 drawers!! And hopefully they won't get stuck :P. We also make a bowl, which I'll fully fully work on once my shelves done!! We actually learned a new machine for this!! It's able to make the wood rounded, so we can make a bowl and practice making the wood rounded.
💚Ink is a very nice tool for traditional art in my opinion!! You can put a blob of sorts and shape it however you want, then once it's dry you can use a sharpie or a pen or a fineliner sharpie pen to make something out of it :D
You can also just use the line pens and sharpies by themselves and create different values with thicker or thinner lines and I have shaky hands!! Which can really make your lines feel more organic in a way!! Also really helps me feel loose drawing!! But then sometimes it's rather annoying, like with digital art and when I want to make smooth straight and curved lines!!
💚 Speaking of digital art~
I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW THAT'S BEEN GOING FOR ME SINCE I'VE STARTED DIGITAL ART!! :D
I think it was..... Less than a year ago? Around that long ago :P
Anyway- I've made myself my own Sona and it's great!! My hair color and just having a pixie cut hair works quite well with the cat ears!! And all the markings and just- everything that's gone into making them has been so great~
And the art apps I use!! It took a few tries with multiple other art apps and looking up which would work for a phone and what was free to use. But I found Infinite Painter and HiPaint and they are so great!!
I found Infinite Painter first off, and it's worked splendidly and hasn't crashed or glitched on me at all!! And the brush options are so nice!! It's a great beginner digital art app, it doesn't overload you with so many brush customizations!! Even though there still are plenty of customizations, you don't have to adjust them if you don't want to!! You can just change the opacity and size of it if you want!!
And then there's HiPaint!! I REALLY like the brushes this app has, it's actually so much better than Infinite Painter!! And you can customize the stabilizer!! I currently have it a 20%. I actually thought I'd have it at some higher percentage since my hands shake, but it's quite comfortable at 20%!! I could maybe slide it to 21 -25% , just for a bit more smoothness. And- this app has glitched out once before and it wouldn't let me do anything at all!! So I tried restarting my phone a couple times and that didn't work so I uninstalled it AND I FRICKIN LOST MY PROJECTS ON IT AJSJDJFJFFKDJF that fuckin sucked, but luckily I already posted the doodles I did on there and I screenshotted the sona sketch I did, but I did loose my linework and the start of me coloring it :/. But I did redo the linework and finished it all and it looks very nice!! So didn't really lose anything permanently!! It hasn't glitch again so that's good~
💚hmmmm I'm running out of what to add!! Might just leave this as is~
Idk I wanna show this as soon as possible so I can talk more about this with you Kredena!!
(this is mainly for Kredena, but to anyone else reading, I hope you like this all!!)
Ye you know what idk what else to add, probably all my head cannons and such for every fandom I've ever been in, but I don't even remember all of that rn so- this is it I guess, maybe at least for now!! :D
💚Update: BANNER IDEAS FOR MY BLOG HERE :D
I have some very nice ideas!! There's one with my sona wearing my in progress green scarf!! There's another with a winter setting with a certain way the trees would look that I really wanna try doing!! There's a flower pattern idea for spring!! I also wanna do one with a pattern with better pumpkins and fall leaves and candy corn!! For summer I'd probably do a Sona drawing with a sunny background with my sona wearing shades and, OH OH MAYBE STANDING IN AN OCEAN!! OH I LOVE THOSE CONCEPTS SO FRICKIN MUC AJSJDDJFJajsjsjdjsffjdjAHSHDajsjdhASJDHDjajsdj!!
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WHAT I LEARNED FROM MY LATEST ART BLOCK ABOUT CREATIVITY AND EXISTING AS AN ARTIST:
Hi so Hi I'm Fullmoon and I'm a digital artist and a writer (@fullmoondaggers-art) and from last november/december to april/may I have been in a mortifying creative block that was AGONIZING to say the least. My art's back now although it's at a very small pace but . I'm free ! (or back into my cage?)
I'm making this post mostly for myself but also to share this experience with others because that may be interesting or helpful? Please do take everything uder the cut with a grain of salt I’m merely a creature spilling thoughts about my own experiences and ideas . Love and Light
Some people may scoff at me because 6/7 months of art block may be nothing to them but it was a LOT for me- I never had such a long period of no art juice and it was very disorienting and horrifying.
For as long as I've been able to hold a pen and had to survive through the torture that is school, I've been drawing. All day long, everyday. Doodles on the edges of my notebooks, on scraps of paper when teachers took away my notebooks, and on my arms when the teachers took away my scraps of paper. I drew my little characters, then my little ponies, and I will forever look back at how terrifyingly productive I was in 2016. How did I manage to put out a fully lined and colored drawing almost every day after school ? While gay?
Jokes asides I've always drawn, and fast. Everyone seems impressed with how fast I draw, myself included.
(WHAT do you mean you drew this in 8 hours? wtf Luke)
And I used to draw all the time. When I wasn't playing games or watching shows, I was drawing.
And all of the sudden, it stopped. Creativity juices stopped flowing. Might have been caused by some personal events, and me stepping out of a fandom to other interests that is feeding me less in terms of nooks in which my art fungus can grow (the BATIM fandom rules. Genuinely. Legacy of Kain also has so much to offer), but either way, I was entering a very uncreative moment in my journey as an artist.
It hit hard !
I was getting anxious about opening SAI. I was getting anxious at plugging my tablet in my laptop. I could NOT do anything creative. Even when I got short spurs of ideas I would just give up and close the program, because it wasn't worth it anyways, no one would care, no one would want what I had to give, because my art didn't look professional or didn't stand out as much as it should. I was very deep set in the idea that uploadable art was fully lined and colored, colored sketches could be acceptable under some strict criteria. Let's not even talk about fic, I'm still very much a beginner, and the topics I like to write about aren't very elevated anyways.
1- THE ART OF TRICKERY
Brains are mischievous little machines, but once you understand that you're above it, it's nothing but a roach under your heel. I had to redirect my creative drive to something else than art and writing, so I tried my hand at HTML, a tiny pathetic bit of 3D modeling, painting patches for my jacket etc.
SAI and Tablet were making me anxious? Well, What about mouse and MS Paint? Why not try Adobe Flash ? Pencils and watercolor makes you shit? Ballpen and scrap paper. Grow up. This cool artist uses Paint 3D to work, why not give it a shot? Try some new ways of sketching, new fun art styles to mess with.
(Animated on Adobe Flash as a little test, I had a lot of fun !)
It was baby steps towards some recovery, and it did help ! It took me a while, but I was finally able to open SAI and draw and ENJOY it.
2- THE ART OF SEEING YOURSELF
What do I create for?
I draw for myself, for my horny little ideas, my cool character designs, to get out some funny things that are inside my head, to put my favorite characters in situations, to make them look hot as shit.
I draw for other people too, sharing is important and vital as a fandom artist on the Internet. I want my art to be seen and enjoyed by other people who also enjoy what I'm creating about. I make to share, I don't want most of my art to be seen by only myself.
I don't draw for fame, although being mildly known in my tiny little niche communities would be nice! It's not something that I cling to too tightly.
What is my artist identity ?
Early 2000's cartoons, 90's Anime, 2010's Internet, Art Nouveau, 1930's cartoons, Symbolism, Medieval art, BDSM/Kink, some French Comics, throw it all in a blender, and you get a blurry image of me.
Things are a bit difficult here. I don't feel like I have an "art style". I love to try new things, new techniques, new shapes. My art pieces rarely resemble each other, which is something I'm very self conscious about and I'm learning to accept. The thing is, every other artist around me has that Thing that makes their work so recognisable, and I don't feel like my art has that "Oh, that's Fullmoon" spark. At first I thought something was wrong with me, but I think it's really only a matter of perspective, I don't see it because I don't have the step back from my work to do that.
I wish I knew what makes me unique as an artist, but also I don't think it matters that much.
3- THE ART OF NOT GIVING A SHIT
(Little edit I smashed together somewhere near the peak of my art block, just because I wanted to see Applejack and Arthur Morgan hanging out. I think they’d be besties)
Art block taught me to Let Go. I couldn't draw anymore, and I felt like I was free from something that had been cursing me for so long but also completely lost without my shackles. I didn't really have an outlet for my Needs to fidget and make things and share them, and I was feeling like I would never be back to where I used to be in art. But also I knew it was cyclical, just like everything else in life is, and everything would fall back in place in due time.
Sometimes you need to not give a shit if something turns out ugly or unperfect or never gets finished ever. keep them tucked in a corner and pull them out when you feel like you could have a better shot at them. It's OK to give up ! If you don't feel it's right, if you're not enjoying the process, just Let Go. If you're enjoying it regardless, just keep on going, the beauty of creation is that it's about fun and discovery. Nothing is eternal, and projects come back from the dead.
(Original idea from my art block VS when I picked it back up when i got my power back, lineart done on Adobe Flash because SAI was still too intimidating to me, and also lining on Flash is FUN)
4- WHAT DID THIS BRING ME
I think I have a very different approach to making art now. I don't draw every day, but It doesn't weigh on me that much anymore, as it should. I make things for fun, I don't want to aim for a masterpiece every time I pick up my tablet and turn the music playlist up. I draw whatever I want to, because I'm in impossibly niche communities anyway, so whoever will see it will see it, and I love them for that. I'm able to let things sit for a while and pick them back up later, which is VERY HARD for me in general. Maintaining a brand is bullshit and will kill you.
I’ve been writing again as well, and while I don’t think it’s too important, it’s fun !!
I have fun making things and learning things, and I have discovered new things I probably wouldn’t have gotten otherwise;
- I can roughly animate on Flash !
- I have a website I wrote myself !
- Painting on fabric is very fun actually !
- So much anime and manga. God
- I can sit back and feel Okay about not being an art machine !
I say that as a horrid little hater, but I think it's so important as an artist to cherish and adore everything you make. Give passion to the world and it will give it back to you in other ways. Play Soul Reaver
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So here's my first mARTch study. Trying to learn from @princeofcake's style. (They're cpthamburger on Bluesky/Twitter.) I first saw their art on Monster Prom but I've been following them ever since.
When I started this I didn't think it'd take 6-7ish hours to do, but I definitely learned a lot. I included pre-render and post-renders for each art since that's what I'm focusing on and I think that seeing both is a good idea.
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I wanted to start simple so I could get the basic plan down and pick up as much as I can before trying it on an actual figure drawing. So I found a Bulbasaur art of theirs that was great to learn from. I didn't color pick for this one but other than that I think it's a pretty good style match.
Then I found a figure drawing that matched the Bulbasaur style pretty closely. They don't always render the same way, sometimes no shading at all, sometimes with a bunch of shading with blending and stuff, but this is the style I want to learn so this was a good next piece.
For this one I only color picked for the flats. And I'm glad I did because I learned a thing about lighting colors that I like kind of knew but now I definitely know and can was able to put into words.
Then for the final piece, I know you're supposed to use what you learned from the art study in your piece. So I pulled up a sketch of mine from a couple months ago and rendered it fully in this style. I found a couple of similar pieces of their to help me out, since using reference is okay.
The shading isn't as good as the other pieces, but it's definitely better than probably any of my attempts prior to this study that I didn't completely steal lighting angles from a reference.
I colored picked a bunch for this one as well cuz that's what I'd normally do. I probably should have done my normal lining that has different thicknesses to see how that would work with what I learned but I didn't think to do that when I started.
But yeah my first mARTch study done. I had a lot of fun and since it took so long I'll probably only do like 1 or 2 of these a week. And that'll give me time to use what I learned on my own art pieces in between studies.
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Dean’s Jeans 2
What better day to post a sweet little family oneshot than Mother’s Day? This is the same setup as Dean’s Jeans, just a different late summer afternoon on your cul-de-sac with Dean, Sam, your daughters, and their cousin DJ. I already have bare-bones drafts of a few other installments for these cuties, especially considering this one got a little deeper than I had intended. Stay tuned!
Title: Dean’s Jeans 2
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 5561
Summary: Spending the afternoon working on the driveway with Dean, Sam, your daughters, and nephew.
Warnings: fluff, some family angst, minor injury, little dollop of smut at the end
It was a big day for driveways and garages.
You had been sitting in the apron of Sam’s drawing loopy pastel paths with DJ and your eldest daughter for your youngest to roll her cousin’s old matchbox cars down, watching adoringly as everyone’s palms and knees got covered in chalk dust. When the concrete was relatively full and the older two started getting a little antsy, you decided to try to stave off any bored bickering ahead of time.
“Babe, is our garage unlocked?” you called over to Dean where he was trying to snake an extension cord out of Sam’s front door and down the porch.
“Should be. Why, what’s up?”
“I thought maybe DJ could take Picasso here over to the park to break in her new bike.” You turned to your nephew, sitting with his arms resting on his knees. He was just barely starting to fill out around the delicate Winchester features that had made him such an angelic looking child, the angle of his jaw seeming to sharpen every day, growing rapidly though you might still be able to throw him over your shoulder in a pinch. Hopefully it was a sign that he wasn’t destined for the late puberty you knew had frustrated Sam so much when he was younger; at least he could have one gift from his other parent, lost otherwise to the wind without as much as a periodic birthday card. Not the time for that thought, you reminded yourself, refocusing on the child’s glossy hair, carbon copy of his father’s with sun-lightened tips this late into summer. Dean would’ve taken him to get a haircut about a month ago, but as you and Sam both reminded him: not his hair, not his kid. It made you smile and likely made Sam proud that at his age, where so many kids were rebelling against their parents, DJ didn’t mind looking exactly like his dad. Somehow you had a hard time believing Sam would want to rush that process of teenage rebellion along. “What do you think, Deej?”
Your elder daughter squealed and threw her arms around his neck, nearly tackling him onto the driveway. “Please please? Maybe Sarah and Davey can come too.” Her inclusion of the Fiore siblings into the mix was smart. They lived between your cul de sac and the park and were pretty similar in age to DJ and your older daughter. You suspected she thought on some level that DJ was on the cusp of being too cool to hang out with his baby cousin, but hanging out with the Fiores as a group gave them a little more social grace. Hopefully she’d realize, as you had, that DJ absolutely adored her and would likely rather catch some flack from his peers than drift apart.
“Yeah but I’m not carrying your bike up the hill if your legs get tired,” he grinned at his cousin, who immediately took off across the street to get her bike from the garage.
Sam and Dean had to move their whole setup from in front of Sam’s garage door so DJ could get his own bike out, the step ladder, extension cord, and electric drill going into the lawn next to the rest of their project, the basketball hoop. He almost got to the end of the driveway, swinging his leg over the seat, before Sam stopped him. “Nice try. Helmet, please,” he called out after his son, who reluctantly dropped the mountain bike onto the pavement and trudged back into the garage to pull a sticker-covered helmet out of a box and throw it on his head. By the time he made it into the street his cousin had done the same, yelling out over her shoulder for you to Mommypleaseclosethegaragethankyou as she tried to pump petite legs to keep up.
You were thankful that your youngest seemed to be fully engrossed in the chalk patterns on the driveway and hadn’t seemed to notice the other kids’ leaving, not interested in having an argument about whether she was too little or not to go with them alone. Trusting the older kids or not, she was small and curious in a way that led to her sometimes running off to explore, and you didn’t want to add that into the mix. After a while, she picked up the green again, moving up the driveway to draw a picture of a dragon and immediately swipe hair out of her face, covering it with fluorescent dust. She got to her feet, and the amount of colorful powder on her made you beyond thankful that it was Dean’s turn to give her a bath that night. Crossing the driveway in a few skittering steps, she wrapped herself around Dean’s legs, practically leaving a silhouette imprint of herself on his jeans as he ruffled her hair. The way they had worn out and lost much of their dye over the years highlighted the contrast.
“Daddy, come look! It’s a dragon!”
Dean and Sam exchanged a smirk and Dean winked at you. “A dragon? Sounds scary.”
“No, he’s a nice dragon,” she insisted, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the driveway, leaving Sam to drill holes into the wood above his garage door.
“A nice dragon, huh? What’s his name?” Dean asked, grinning as he let her lead him.
“Maurice,” she said, so matter of fact it made you laugh out loud. Sam did too, pulling the drill out of the wall to keep from wiggling the holes. “Can you do the fire?”
“’Course I can, princess. How big are we talking?” He eased down to sit cross-legged next to Maurice The Dragon, accepting when you offered him yellow and orange sticks of chalk. You leaned back in the afternoon sun with a lap full of matchbox cars listening to the radio Sam had brought out to the porch, the chalk scratching on the concrete, and the rhythmic drilling of holes into siding for a few minutes.
“Dean?” Sam asked, backing down the step ladder.
“Got it,” he answered, putting a little flair on a lick of fire that went around Maurice’s nose and handing your daughter the chalk. “I need to help Uncle Sammy for a minute but I can come right back, sound fair? Your mom is better at scales anyway.” The girl seemed to consider it for a second then pouted her lips out in agreement, tilting her head to the side just like her dad did all the time. Dean got up creakily and brushed off his hands on his back pockets, the orange joining the other stains like an abstract painting.
“You guys need any help?” you called over to Sam, who was trying to stabilize the hoop with long arms and struggling a little bit to keep it balanced in the light wind, powerful muscles rippling in his forearms and impressing upon you how heavy it must truly be if even he was having trouble with it.
“Actually, yeah, that would be great,” he chuckled, jerking his chin to Dean to suggest his brother help him hold it up. He did, grabbing one side and having to reach up to his tip toes to match Sam’s stretch. They were both standing on a kind of bastardized stool Dean had thrown together for this purpose, a few planks of wood balanced on some huge cinderblocks that had been in the garden holding up one of Sam’s compost setups. “It’s just those 12 screws, holes should already be lined up.”
You climbed up on the ladder with the drill, having to crane to reach over even with the added height. When the last was in, the Winchesters carefully removed their hands. Seeing that it didn’t immediately fall, Dean grabbed the bottom corner and tried his best to rattle it to no avail. “Good job, babe,” he said, lightly smacking your ass as you backed down the ladder.
“Watch out,” Sam said over your shoulder, and you saw him walking backwards a handful of steps down the driveway, being cautious to avoid his niece and her drawings.
“Dude, there’s no way you can—” Dean started, cut off by Sam taking a running jump and leaping into the air, catching the rim of the hoop like nothing and doing a baby pull-up on the metal.
“Can what?” Sam cackled, punching Dean’s arm playfully as he dropped to the pavement. “Don’t be jealous, old man.”
“Jealous of Sasquatch? You can practically reach it standing, Lurch.”
“Yeah, okay. Let me know when you can get up there without a stool and a trampoline.”
You were giggling as Sam and Dean started putting all their tools way when DJ’s bike came flying around the corner. Neither he nor his cousin were wearing helmets, and she was wrapped around his chest like a novelty monkey backpack, her legs circling his waist and her arms clinging to his neck. He had to arch around her to see, but you could tell from the half-block length away that he was saying something to her. By the time they got close enough to get reprimanded for the lack of helmets, or for one of their dads to ask where the other bike was, you could hear the crying.
Sam crossed over to his son in long, purposeful strides, holding his handlebars so he could dismount without letting go of your daughter. “What happened?” he asked, taking the girl from DJ’s arms and smoothing her hair back with a soothing palm. As he turned, you could see the blood trickling down her raw knees and elbows.
DJ was visibly rattled, trying hard to calm his breathing down and tensing his bottom lip when it began to quiver. “Davey and I went down that big hill and, she—she was going too fast, and, um, she fell—I, I told her we could practice later but these guys were saying only babies couldn’t do it, I swear I didn’t know she would—” and then his voice broke, fat tears finally breaking through and crashing down his face. Sam nodded to you and Dean, murmuring some comforting things to your eldest as he carried her up the porch steps into his house. At the exact same time as if practiced—that same rapid, implicit communication they’d had on hunts now used to coordinate hugging their children in tandem, you thought to yourself—Dean wrapped his nephew up in a big bear hug, cradling the boy’s head and sweeping his hand up and down his back.
“Hey, come on, you’re okay. She’s okay, she’s just shaken up, kid. Shhh shhh shhh, hey, come on, deep breaths. You’re okay,” he hummed into DJ’s hair. He gave you a tight nod over the kid’s shoulder to keep drawing with your daughter. Only a few steps away, you could still hear him as he continued. “I’m so proud of you, Deej. Got her all the way home on your bike, that’s pretty badass.” He waited for a few moments of silence until his nephew caught his breath a little. “Probably scared you, right?” he asked, his voice low and calm as DJ nodded through tears into the growing wet spot on his uncle’s chest. “That’s okay, chief, I would’ve been freaked too.”
You noticed he was rocking a little, almost like he did when he was trying to get the girls to sleep as babies, and it really emphasized the way that no matter how wise DJ seemed or whatever signs of puberty he might be showing, he was still a child, still the same baby you’d fallen in love with when Sam had gotten that call however many years ago. It took a few more minutes for the crying to subside to hiccupping breaths and seeming to sense that the moment had passed in some way, your baby girl grabbed your hand gently. “Mommy, is DJ okay?”
“Yeah, sweetie. He was just scared for a minute.”
“That’s why he needs a hug?”
“Exactly. Everybody needs hugs sometimes.” Just as she had before when considering your ability to draw cartoon scales on a dragon named Maurice, she tilted her head and pouted in agreement. When you realized what she was about to do next you almost had to wipe a quick tear away yourself, watching her get up to hug DJ and sandwich him between herself and Dean.
“It’s okay, DJ,” she whispered, the high tender pitch of her voice like one of those unsettlingly extreme medieval harmonies with her dad’s but so much sweeter, the bright welcome sting of lemon juice in a dense poundcake.
A moment later, Sam came out onto the porch with his eldest niece. One of her knees was wrapped in gauze but the other and both elbows had what looked from the driveway like a collage of Spiderman band aids. Sam appeared to have a matching one on his forehead, and both of them were giggling, though her eyes still looked a little puffy and red.
Dean looked up and turned DJ to see both of them, cradling the back of DJ’s head in one palm. “See? She’s okay, just needed a couple band aids.”
Sam winked at his brother as he walked over and patted his son on the back, taking the band aid off his forehead as he went. “Buddy, we’re going to go grab the bike and your helmets. Is there anything else you think you left at the park?”
His son shook his head up at his dad and leaned back from Dean’s embrace to rub his eyes. “Are you mad at me?” he croaked.
“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?” Sam asked, crouching down to a squat to look up at DJ. You had noticed he tended to do this in sensitive moments with all the children, trying his best to seem less looming. The first time you’d identified it, it made you a little sick to your stomach, realizing it likely wasn’t part of how inherently good he was with kids but because he knew what it was like to have an angry man towering over you. Thinking of it now had the same effect, especially compounded by the emphasis Dean had put on telling DJ he was proud of him even if his daughter had gotten hurt, that he too knew a protective kid was still just a kid.
DJ sniffled hard once more, finally able to take a truly deep breath. “I didn’t wear my helmet home because I couldn’t see arou—”
“Aw, DJ. No way am I mad at you.” Sam hugged his son and stood up, planting a kiss on his forehead. “I’m proud of you for getting both of you guys home safe. That was really smart, to get her on the bike with you like that.” You caught DJ’s tiny smile of pride at his father’s praise, watched it deepen a touch as Sam kissed his hair again. “So just the helmets and the bike?”
He nodded and rubbed his eyes before peeking around Sam a little bit to see your daughter. “You’re really okay?” he asked, as though he didn’t trust the adults to be telling him the truth and would have to ascertain her safety for himself. You wondered if Sam and Dean would find that nice or insulting, that ultra-fierce, trust-but-verify loyalty.
She nodded sort of sheepishly. “Sorry I didn’t listen about the hill, DJ.”
“It’s okay.”
The moment seemed a bit heavy for a half-second before Sam wrapped a big hand around your daughter’s shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Let’s go find that bike.”
After helping Dean get his wheels back inside, DJ went up to his room. You had to resist the urge to follow him, cuddle up with him like you used to when he was small enough to tuck into your lap. If he wanted to be alone, he was old enough to decide that for himself. Dean put the rest of the tools and things from putting up the basketball hoop away and walked over to you where you were laying on the ground so your youngest daughter could trace your body with chalk.
“I think we need a pick-me-up around here. How do you feel about i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m for dinner?”
You smiled, knowing you only had a bit longer of these spelling secrets left as your baby got closer and closer to proficient reading age. “Works for me. I think we have 2 or 3 kinds in the garage freezer.”
He smirked down at you. “Can you bring him over in about 15 minutes? They should be back by then.”
You tossed him a thumbs up and watched him walk across the street, the way the denim draped around his bowed legs as he went.
It was only five or six minutes later when Sam came up to the driveway, jogging alongside your daughter with DJ’s helmet in his hand. Of course Sam would know that she needed to get back on that bike right away, and of course he’d come up with something to make her laugh all the way home, even if that meant he had to run the entire distance on a late summer afternoon. He was slightly out of breath when he helped her dismount in the driveway.
“My kid okay?” he asked, taking the other helmet so your daughter could go back to what was becoming a pretty spectacular chalk surrealist piece spanning the driveway.
“He’s in his room, I think he will be. Your brother’s got a very Dean style plan for dinner in a few minutes if you’re hungry.”
Sam looked down at his watch. “Yikes, I didn’t realize we were even close to dinnertime. Let me go wash my hands and grab DJ then we can go over together?”
“Sounds perfect to me. And hey—Sam? Make sure he knows everyone thinks he did the right thing.”
He nodded, and you watched his Adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallowed hard. Sam reached down and squeezed your hand, saying thank you without reopening the situation in front of the girls.
They came out a few minutes later, Sam in a fresh t-shirt and DJ looking a little more cheerful coiled into his dad’s side. You bundled up the girls and walked over to your house, tipping your head in thanks as Sam opened the door. The girls were the first to see the spread and took off squealing into the kitchen, where Dean had effectively set up a tiny ice cream shop on your kitchen island. Sprinkles of all different kinds, those 3 tubs of ice cream you’d been right to remember were in the freezer, syrups and whipped cream and cherries and bananas and even chopped up peanut butter cups and Butterfinger bars from the stash Dean hid from the kids. He was already handing out bowls before you got into the kitchen.
“Ah, ah! Hands need to be washed before anyone gets ice cream,” you insisted, shooting Dean a look of teasing reprimand.
He rolled his eyes to your oldest daughter, sending her giggling conspiratorially to the kitchen sink. DJ, presumably having already washed his hands at his place, helped your youngest daughter reach by picking her up to the faucet when her sister was done. You crossed over to Dean, kissing him on the cheek and grabbing his hands for inspection. “Babe, you’re literally covered in chalk.”
“You should be happy about me getting some extra calcium,” he winked, sticking out his tongue at you as you grabbed his ass on the way to the sink. “Mrs. Winchester!” he said in a faux-scandalized voice.
As you washed your hands Sam manned the ice cream scoop, doling out much bigger bowls than he would normally, seeming to know as Dean did that a little levity might help the events of the day pass faster. After all the kids doctored up heaping mounds of ice cream and toppings to beat the band, you and the Winchester brothers stood around the island while they piled onto the couch to find a movie they could all agree on.
“How’s our champ?” Dean asked, keeping his voice low.
Sam shook up a can of whipped cream as he spoke. “He’s okay. Just feels guilty, I think. He says he should’ve stopped her from going down the hill.”
“You think any kid of hers would’ve let someone tell her she couldn’t do anything?” Dean ribbed, accepting the gentle elbow you hit his side with.
“I know that, but you know what it’s like. I think once he sees she’s really okay and no one blames him then he’ll be fine.”
“Poor guy. Feels like that Winchester ‘weight of the world’ thing must be genetic.” You were partly joking but also partly not and they both knew it, looking pitiful and pitying for a beat before trying to cover with smiles. “He’s a great kid, Sam.”
“Pretty much feels like you guys raised him as much as I did, I should be thanking you,” he murmured, drawing a lattice of butterscotch syrup over his whipped cream.
You snaked an arm around his waist and gave him a sideways hug. “No, we’re lucky you let us know him.”
Sam bent over and pressed his lips to your hair. “Seriously, thank you. I’m—I don’t know where we’d be if we didn’t, you know, I mean if we—”
“Don’t strain yourself, Sammy,” Dean smiled affectionately, giving Sam a merciful out. “Tell you what, I sure wouldn’t have made it in damn Themyscira without you two around.”
Sam chuckled down at the counter while you disentangled your arms. You took the chocolate sprinkles from in front of him and scattered a few in your bowl. “Themyscira? The hell is that?”
Dean set down his ice cream exaggeratedly and rolled his eyes so hard he put a backwards bend in his spine, holding onto the island to keep his balance. “Babe. Themyscira. Home of the Amazons? Wonder Woman?”
“Riiiight. I forgot I was married to such a dork.”
“As long as you don’t forget how this ‘dork’ makes you screa—”
“Dude, enough,” Sam groaned, exasperated. Dean waggled his eyebrows at you as his brother followed into the living room with the kids, taking the opportunity of temporary privacy to slip his tongue along your neck where it sloped into your shoulder.
“Dean,” you hissed playfully, pushing his chest away from you. “They’re in the other room!”
“You taste like chalk,” he smirked, before holding your gaze for a gooier beat than you would’ve expected. His eyes softened and he glanced down. “Thank you for letting me—letting us—take that, today. I know you’re better at the Mommy Dearest stuff or whatever, but it sometimes feels like, ah, getting a redo?” He cleared his throat where it had gotten a little thick. “You know, um, like proving that it doesn’t have to be the same?”
It was a specific vulnerability he doesn’t often let you see, but you could tell by the softness both he and Sam had with all the kids, how they beat themselves up for days if they raised their voice for even a second, that they both thought about it all the time. In so many ways they were still those same little boys who wished they could’ve drawn on driveways with their parents, that their dad could’ve given them Spiderman band aids and told them everything was going to be okay.
He didn’t have to explain further, and you gripped his hand to tell him so. “They needed you two, not me. For what it’s worth, I think you guys were a pretty great team today.”
Dean smiled, and it was almost like the sleepy thankfulness he had on those nights when he got home and you’d charitably done a couple of his chores for him. He closed his eyes in invitation and you leaned forward, meeting his lips with the smell of ice cream in the air. “So come on, Super Dad. Let’s go watch a movie with these great kids everyone keeps talking about.”
The ice cream had gotten put back in the freezer immediately to keep it frozen, but the toppings had all been left out during School of Rock. Sam and DJ had left a bit after the movie, playing a round of LIFE that had been pretty ambitiously started, considering the time, and ultimately abandoned when all the kids’ yawns started to sync up. You came downstairs after trading with Dean for bath/shower duty to get out of cleaning up all the sticky dishes, the girls falling asleep too quickly for a bedtime story after you’d made sure they were thoroughly scrubbed clean and any wet gauze was replaced.
He was rinsing some bowls in the sink, the majority of the toppings slid to one side of the now wiped-down island. You sauntered up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder. “Your jeans are still covered in chalk,” you sighed into his neck.
“Your kid was practically using them as a napkin, so I’m not surprised.”
“Like father, like daughter.”
You felt the rumble of his laugh through your chest where you were pressed up against his back. “Can’t argue with that. They asleep?”
“You’d think I drugged them.”
He chuckled again, putting down the last bowl in the sink and shutting off the water before drying his hands on a dishtowel deliberately. When he turned around, his face was inches from yours. “Is that right?” he asked, and his voice was as smooth and silky as any caramel drizzle you could’ve eaten that night. You nodded into a smile as Dean slid a washing-warmed hand to the nape of your neck and wound into the hair there, pulling you into him where he leaned against the sink and slipped his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like maraschino cherry and chocolate and you pushed up into his kiss hard, jamming him into the counter in a way that made him groan into you, tug that hair tighter. “Careful, baby. Been thinking about scandalizing the mother of my children for hours,” he growled, smirking through a voice rough like the sandpaper calluses of his hands.
You bit his bottom lip and dragged it back, leaning away from Dean just enough to reach over to the island behind you, finding the whipped cream and starting to shake it fast. “That’s funny, because I’ve just been thinking about sundaes,” you purred into his ear, nipping at his earlobe before tipping back. Dean’s eyes practically glittered as his pupils blew wide. His shirt was off so fast you almost didn’t see it, feeling like you blinked and opened your eyes to him already yanking his belt open to shuck off those chalk-covered torn jeans. Before he could, you turned over the whipped cream on top of his collarbone, dripping a stream of white foam down his chest and letting it drift for a second, melt down his skin then lapping it up with a tongue flattened wide. You shook the can again, draping a strip onto Dean’s stomach that trailed to his belly button and laying a palm on his chest, leaning him back to the counter on his elbows to watch as you licked the whipped cream with lazy swirls until you were at the hem of his boxers, sinking to your knees and taking them down his legs along with his now-opened jeans. He was already hard as rock when you took him in your palm, laying one last spray of whipped cream along the length of him and humming in delight at the “holy shi—” that punched out of Dean and fizzled into the ether when you sucked it off.
It was only a few minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore, bending down to kiss you rough and dirty, tongue darting out to get the little dribbles of cream around the corners of your mouth and dragging you to your feet. With one hand Dean flicked open your jeans, using the freed slack to dive into your panties, middle finger dipping into you as he held your jaw with the other palm. He breathed hot and sticky along your jugular. “Not even close to how wet I want you.” The viscous pour of his words onto your neck sent goosebumps spreading over your skin in a delicate fan and you couldn’t help but smile as he scooped under your thighs and lifted you easily onto the island, slipping the denim off your legs as the same time he stepped out of his. You relaxed onto your elbows, watching those long eyelashes drift open and closed as his kissed a path down your abdomen, gripping handfuls of your t-shirt to get to skin. A lazy hand offered Dean the can of whipped cream.
The smirk he gave you, bare shoulders between your thighs as he kneeled on the kitchen floor, might as well have been through a time machine for the way it made you see the cocky playboy you’d first met over a decade ago, before the faint wrinkles of years in sunny cars and staying up nights with colicky babies that accessorized his big doe eyes now. It had the same effect on you in a t-shirt that was older than DJ as it had when you were pounding through shots with eyeliner artfully smudged by the power of hangovers: pooling all the blood in your stomach and making you lightheaded. He slowly bit his bottom lip. “You taste way too good to be adding anything,” he rumbled, and when you threw your head back in a shaky laugh his tongue reminded you exactly why smudged-eyeliner girl was ready to drop her independence, jump in the Impala and follow that mouth to the end of the world.
Dean built the earth up and cracked it into pieces beneath you twice perched on that kitchen island before grabbing the counter edge to haul himself up. “Were these tiles always so fucking hard? Feel like I just took a hammer to the kneecaps.” He shook out each of his bare legs, spring of his erect cock as he did looking silly and out of place with the glisten of his lips and chin, the sultry cast of his eyelashes on angled cheekbones. The juxtaposition made you laugh, breathy as it was with muscles that had been turned to jello, thrown in a blender, and scattered about the room by the deft movements of Dean’s tongue and fingers.
“You’re thinking about your knees right now?”
“That’s how hard these fucking tiles are,” Dean chuckled, deep and still sexy somehow, bending forward to catch your lips. When you reached down to stroke him, a hand wrapped around your wrist. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, I’m nowhere near done with you,” he murmured through kisses, a shade of playful challenge in his throat.
You giggled, leaning back as he dragged a wet path of suction down your neck. “I don’t want to torture those legs, old man.” Running a hand through hair you’d sent spiking in all directions in your writhing, you dragged Dean’s head back on his neck, giving you a chance to meet his eyes, still the same dusted olive they’d been since that first wink. Long past the honeymoon stage when it was appropriate to do that kind of thing, you’d been content to spend hours searching them, cataloguing every spindly muscle of iris for posterity, trying to gather up every grain of him for when he inevitably was lost forever to a hunt or the solitude of the road.
But here he was still.
Here you were still. Living a life—living two selves—you never thought you’d get, lucky to have grown in and around each other like mangrove roots. Those eyes still every inch as beautiful, every spark of that electric heat still there now cloaked in layer after layer of what you’d built together: the complete trust and fanatical admiration he had of you flowing out like fountains of sunlight, strong enough they streamed through any raunchy waggle of his eyebrows.
No time to think about it now with a hungry coil of desire tightening in your stomach. You traced the length of him with your fingertips, feather-light and teasing. “If you give me fifteen seconds to get my sea legs back I’ll show you who’s got tougher knees.”
“All right, that’s it,” Dean said. He tipped his head forward and bit your bottom lip with that impossible pressure that made you whimper. “I’ll show you how old these knees are.”
Before you could react, he’d put his shoulder below your sternum and thrown you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. When you squealed he smacked your ass. “You’re going to wake up the girls,” he buzzed, starting toward your bedroom without a stitch of clothing on, you draped over his back.
“Dean, Jesus Christ,” you giggled. “Get the clothes at least!”
“Don’t need any jeans for what I’ve got planned—quit—squirming—or I’ll give you something to squirm about,” he continued, lowering his voice to a lascivious whisper and giving one of your upper thighs an impish bite as he headed up the stairs.
-
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More Padre!Domingo coming right up aka Daddy Sunday pt. 2
As per usual, all my immense love to @creme-bruhlee and my Daniel server for being a sounding board and to @gwaciechang cheering me on to the finish of this one.
Contained herein is 1.7k of somnophilia, unprotected sex, ambiguously negotiated kink, and further disrespect to Spanish Catholicism. If you’d prefer ao3 and Part One. Stands alone.
Rahab
Exodus 34, Joshua 6
You and Padre have been seeing each other for a while now, you’ve got a key to his place in the attic above the church. It’s a shame he’s an early riser since waking to the midmorning light above the city is one of the warmest things you’ve ever felt.
Padre always gets up early for work and you always come in late from classes and there’s always so little time for the both of you. What little time you get to yourselves is used for fucking and sleeping, not that you really complain about it, it’s just how things are.
It’s verging on summer, sticky heat tagging along to the end of the wet season. You’d gone out the night before and when you came in, he’d already been asleep. You were quiet, careful not to disturb his night before Mass beauty sleep. You had peeled off your boots by the door, yanked your socks and panties off and dived into bed still half clothed. He’d slung an arm around you, pulling you close, nuzzling into your sweat lank hair. The last uppers were worming their way through your system in a heady buzz as you snuggled into him like a second skin before conking out.
You woke when he got up for work the next morning, watching him dress lazily from the bed. Your head was cottony but you forced yourself up to hydrate and pull the rest of your clothes off. He watched you unzip your skirt, giving you a swat to the ass as you pulled it down. You gave him a filthy kiss before he headed out the door.
You left your clothes on the floor and went to shower, scrubbing the grime from the club off. You towel off preliminarily, the heat of the day will dry you the rest of the way as you collapse back on top of the bed sheets to sleep the rest of the morning away.
---
The late spring sun rises through the upper windows, casting the afternoon in stained glass tinted light, not enough to wake you but enough that when Daniel comes in, your skin is painted in the most delicious colors.
He undressed quietly, hanging his shirt up and dropping his slacks in the laundry basket before quietly coming up to where you’re sprawled face down on the bed, ankle twisted in the white sheets. He sits gently on the edge of the bed, sliding a hand from your ankle to knee, skin soft in sleep, clean of glitter and sweat. He traces the lax tendons on the back of your knee before travelling up, lingering on the inside of your thigh but you don’t wake.
He watches you for a few minutes, tracing sigils into your thigh before nudging them apart, dipping into the crease of your thigh, rubbing smoothly. He keeps watch over your face, looking for signs of consciousness. All you do is readjust your head against the pillows.
His finger gets more adventurous, skimming over your folds to tease at the other side, picking up a hint of damp. He smirks to himself before leaning over you, whispering into your ear “Good dreams, Princess?”
He shifts himself between your legs, careful not to disturb you before stroking himself as he dances fingers across your entrance before slowly inserting one, waiting for a reaction. When none comes he grows bolder, adding a second and gently pumping them, drawing out your wetness.
You’re wet enough for him to not have to worry about lube but he goes for some anyway, wanting you to wake to his cock being fully seated in you and not a second before. He slicks himself generously before crawling up the bed with the grace of a polar bear on thin ice. He’s vigilant in positioning himself over your thighs to get the easy angle. He approaches haltingly, adjusting himself with one hand around the base of his cock to guide and the other holding your lips apart.
He checks that you’re still sound asleep before he breaches you, hands falling to the sheets by your shoulders to avoid further stimuli that could wake you. It takes immeasurable self control on his part not to thrust in all at once. It’s smooth and a self-inflicted torture so severe it cancels out the sin of committing it.
He comes to be fully sheathed in you. He lowers himself to his elbows, rosary falling against your back in a warm cascade of beads, his hot breath fanning over you. You twitch in your sleep but don’t wake. He breathes through another quirk of his lips, you were always such a sound sleeper, secure enough in your position with God to never worry if you’ll wake again.
He straightens his back, moving to lay more fully over your back, dragging his rosary through your hair, shifting on his elbows to box in your head, pulling back a hand to loop his overly large heirloom rosary around your throat too.
He pulls out and thrusts all the way back in with all the violence of a man trying to earn his place with a personal God. This is what wakes you with a disoriented moan, dreams blurring with reality. You go to push yourself up only to be restrained by the sharp scent of myrrh and smoke all around you, warm skin pressing you down, beard hair scratching at the side of your face.
“Do you know what I preached about today, mi cielito?” A thrust, “Of course you don’t. Are you familiar with Rahab?”
You shake your head as he thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, soft and sleepy moans spilling from deep in your chest compressed between the pure sheets and his ribcage.
“The righteous harlot.”
You roll your eyes and try to wiggle some space to stretch your staticky limbs but are restricted by his beads chaining you to him. He feels you pull on them and shifts his weight again, freeing a hand to put his first bead and cross in your hand.
“Pray for me, Princess. Contemplate our sins for me.”
You make a half hearted sign of the cross, earning you a thrust and a kiss to the side of your neck. You begin to recite the Apostles Creed, each line earning you half a thrust. “Was crucified, died, and was buried- Fuck!” He pulled all the way out and proceeded to thrust back in with a rough surety, grinding down into you, digging his teeth into your shoulder.
“I don’t think that’s part of it. Start over.”
You let out a sob as you start the Creed over, trying to hurry through as he resumes his half thrusts. You close with a slightly hysterical ‘amen,’ the last of the sleep warmth leaving you for the heat of passion. The blood flow is no longer sluggish but concentrated in your core, flaring out in need. You make it through the Our Father before another sob makes you deviate from the script.
Daniel tuts in your ear, “Do you need to start over?”
“No, please. I’ll be good.”
“Are you sure? You keep messing up. Do you need a corrective hand, Princess?”
“No, no. I can do it.”
“Prove it.”
You struggle through the Hail Marys’ and pull in a shaking breath, really hoping he took Charity to heart. He hasn’t let up on his thrusts, he intentionally holds you in the limbo of regularity and almost but not enough. You know better than to beg, he’s given you an instruction and you have to thread the beads through your hand and pray.
He nuzzles into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You make it through the first Glory Be and go to announce the first Mystery before you can’t take it anymore and struggle under him, trying to force yourself back on his cock. He pulls out, worming a hand under you to paw at your breast, pull at your nipple, “Bad girl. You still have an Our Father.” He presses you up into his chest, kneading at your breast, “Be a good girl for me.”
You struggle, feeling empty without is cock but you make it, begging to be delivered from evil. When you finish, he mutters an ‘amen’ against your throat as he stuffs his cock back in you, pulling the rosary from his neck to leave on you as he sets his weight against your lower back, pinning you down. He widens his stance and drives into you without delay.
The power in his momentum shakes the bed, causing the headboard to knock against the wall, a rhythmic tempo to accompany you being crushed into the mattress.
The sheets stick to your clean sweat as you edge closer, breathing hard and inadequately through your pillow. You whimper with the strength he’s using, bending your spine, wetly slamming into you.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, shuddering through you in one violent motion before you go limp under him; underwhelming and way too much.
He nudges your legs closed and you let him, creating a tighter channel for him to fuck into. He rebalances, one hand planted on your back, the other climbing up into your hair, yanking it back on the knife’s edge of pain.
His nails bite into your skin and the grip on your hair tightens before he lets out a long and low growl as he comes. He lets go of your hair but not before, “You’re my blessed whore aren’t you?”
“God, yes.” For that blasphemy he slaps the side of your face he can reach, the angle is awkward but the point is made, you wiggle your hips, clench around his spent cock, “But I’m still in your bed.”
He huffs out a derisive laugh, pulls out, “That you are.”
The mess of come and lube starts to cool between your legs, sweat growing tacky. You pull the beads through your fingers again, suck the bottom of the cross into your mouth and give him a half lidded stare before rolling over into a dry spot.
He leans down and licks a stripe up your stomach before latching onto a nipple before you swat at his head and he lets up, coming up to kiss you. He nips at your lips but you deny him, pushing his face away.
He doesn’t listen, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off with before laying down next to you, pulling you into an embrace and throwing an arm over his eyes, ready to fall asleep on a Sunday afternoon with you.
Part 3
#daniel brühl#daniel bruhl x reader#padre domingo#padre domingo x reader#fem reader#somnophilia#daniel bruhl smut#priest!daniel bruhl#daniel bruhl fanfiction
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One Warm Spring — Hamada Asahi
pairing: hamada asahi x reader (gender neutral)
genre: fluff, very cheesy lol
word count: 3.2k
a/n: this had no business being so long i apologize D: i tend to overwrite whoops.. oh this is also my first fic so i hope you enjoy ! i’m still a bit rusty lol
Spring; after long nights of endless slumber, the Sun creeps up to the earth, its rays planting warm yet gentle kisses. The orb’s cheeks fill up in heat, flowers of endearment blooming, butterflies catching in the atmosphere’s stomach.
The Earth smiling back, showing a bright welcoming smile, and with open arms, tells the sun “good morning”.
The quiet exchange of sweet nothings transferred to the buoyant citizens, as everyone would jump in joy about the newly welcomed season.
And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one
With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.
Yet, you often found it a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now.
Empty confessions mimicked to be heartfelt at the spur of the moment, fleeing away just as quick as the cherry blossoms came and went. You just never understood it.
Snap!
“Y/N~~ the cherry blossoms are coming soon,” your friend, Jihoon sang into your ear, “And you’re out dozing off into dreamland, are you perhaps thinking about participating in the blossoming of love this year?”
You lightly shoved him away, giving him a glare. Jihoon was always jumping around during this time of the season because he never failed to have a crowd lining up to confess him; his ego flying as high as the newly born butterflies.
“Haha, very funny.” You deadpanned, leaving him behind to go to the cafeteria.
“Hey, you get the drinks and i’ll get the food!” Jihoon shouted, you simply responding with an ‘okay’ symbol with your hand.
Because this was a routine everyday, you had your exact footsteps to the vending machine engraved in your head.
‘11:43—by now everyone should have already gotten their drinks’
‘1, 2, 3, 4.. don’t trip over the crack.. 5, 6, 7—’ beep!
That beep.. wasn’t part of your procedure.
You looked up, your eyes landing on an unfamiliar figure in front of your destination.
Focusing your vision on him, he was made out to be a raven haired boy, his posture slightly hunched over focusing on the number combination assigned to each drink.
His dainty fingers lightly pressing the right combo, pressing each digit carefully like his joints were made of glass
Shoving the crumpled up $5 bill into the slot, his eyebrows furrowing when the machine rejected it
5-5-6-2— banana milk?
You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring at him the entire time until he started walking away, a banana milk in his hand, accidentally brushing past you.
“Ah, sorry” he simply muttered under his breath before continuing on his path. His voice, a deep contrast to the season; hearing his hushed voice chilling you like a midwinter night. His entire presence stood out, almost like a wilted flower amongst the blossoming ones. Yet here you are, warm as ever, feeling the sun pressing warm gentle kisses on the place his fingertips brushed yours.
—
“Y/N? banana milk? you seem to be switching it up today” Jihoon said when you set your drinks down on the table.
“Ah.. i just — maybe i needed a change for the season” you simply responded because, you too, didn’t know why you had a banana milk in front of you instead of your usual chocolate milk.
Throwing your half empty banana milk carton to the trash after lunch, you heard a voice peer behind you.
“Oh! you drink banana milk too! it’s my favorite!” a student you knew the name by Jaehyuk vocalized. You snuck a peek back at the banana milk slowly spilling out of the tiny straw, smiling back at Jaehyuk looking at you with hopeful eyes.
“Ah— this is actually my first time trying it! And it’s.. good!” you returned, attention on Jaehyuk until you see a much smaller figure peer behind him, a chocolate milk in hand.
“Of course it’s good! don’t buy too much of it though— don’t need it going out of stock on me! cmon Asahi”
Asahi. Asahi is his name.
You took one last quick glance at him, watching him throw the empty chocolate milk carton in the bin.
“Yeah.. The banana milk was too sweet for me anyway.”
—
Squatting down to touch the freshly grown flowers outside the school yard, you had recalled the times of your youth as a child running so eagerly to the same flowers in your hand right now.
Gazing at the pretty pink petals in awe as you wiping the morning dew slightly so it can slide off the petals, dripping to the ground.
Running back into your home, crying for a bandaid because you accidentally poked your hand with one of the thorns on accident.
Such simple yet vivid times you remember that made you cherish life a little more.
“Y/N? what are you doing here— our last class is gonna start soon” you heard your classmate Hyunsuk call. you spotting an ever so familiar figure behind him.
Small yet vivid moments.. how does this remind you of—
“Y/N what are you doing cmon!”
—
After school, you sneakily slid into the art classroom after realizing you left your phone in there. Checking the clock, you had 15 minutes before art club would commence, assuming you had 5 minutes to find your phone before members of the club would start arriving.
You observed the colorful classroom with the array of paintings laying on the drying rack, the paint brushes laying on the counter to dry, the sink covered in copious amounts of colors with its original silver color peeking through. The room gave off the feel of an elementary school art classroom. You guess the term “art is timeless” applies to the setting art is made in too.
“Ah there it is!” you whispered to yourself, snatching it off of the teacher’s desk. The sound of the door sliding open shocked you, ducking down under the table out of instinct.
‘Crap—how do i get out of here’ you thought before hearing a tiny tap on the desk.
And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one
“Uhm.. are you okay?” you looked up, seeing him.
With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.
“Oh sorry! I just- I forgot my phone during class so I just came in here to grab it..” you trailed off, quickly getting out of your ducked position and brushing the dust off of you.
You just never understood it.
“I should get going since art club is starting soon” you mustered. Before you could open the door you heard him speak.
“Are you looking to join the art club by any chance?” he said. You looked back at him, unable to scramble words together.
‘Just say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes say-‘
—
You handed out the application form to the leader of the art club, Yoshinori was it?
“Thank you thank you! You can join us for today to see the gist of what goes on” he said while giving you a smile that can easily flutter the hearts of others.
You looked at the room around you seeing Asahi and Jaehyuk, and a freshman that went by Haruto.
To be honest, why did you apply? Your experiences in art were little to none and your current piece you were working on in class was a “dog”— at least that’s what you called it.
“There should be one more person arriving and then we can start” Yoshinori said whilst you and him took a seat.
You stared at Asahi across from you who was absent mindedly looking down at the table, fiddling with his fingers.
‘Cute’ you thought before getting interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
“oh! Y/N what brings you here?” you looked behind you to see Jihoon at the entrance, giving Yoshinori a polite smile.
“I think i should be asking what are YOU doing here,” you retorted, knowing very well that both you and him had the same level of art skill, “and I just joined because i’ve been interested in art.”
“Sure—“ Jihoon scoffed, “Asahi told me about this today so i decided to join—“
‘Asahi. How does he know Jihoon?’
“And you’re not even listening to me!” he exclaimed, ruffling your hair roughly, you lightly punching him in the gut in return.
After the commotion died down, everyone went in session, drawing on a piece of paper whatever went into mind. It definitely meditated your mind but it wasn’t appealing— visually.
The room was filled with small chatter, Jihoon’s voice overbearing everyone else’s.
“Your doodles are very cute” you heard him softly speak. You looked up at his paper, your eyes widening at the sheer talent that bestowed upon your eyes.
“You’re a funny jokester” you simply replied, looking at your own paper with a tight lipped smile. You heard him stifle a laugh, warmth flooding throughout your veins.
“It’s amusing to look at— i like the dog” he said, pointing at one of the drawings.
“It’s supposed to be a zebra >:(“ you looked up at him, trying to contain his laughter before calming himself down and continuing to draw on his paper.
“Well it’s fine because art club isn’t necessarily based on skill. i mean, if we have Jaehyuk in here then that says something” he responded pointing at Jaehyuk’s paper. You couldn’t quite comprehend what he was drawing— a person playing baseball??
“It’s a frog by the way”
“HUH?!”
—
You hadn’t realized how late art club ended, but when you walked out of school, you saw the once blue sky turned into an orange hue indicating the late time.
“We hope to see you again Y/N” Yoshinori said. You nodded and hummed in response before taking your leave with Jihoon.
You took one last glimpse of Asahi, sticking out amongst the orange sky. The sun was setting yet— looking at him gave you the exact warmth you would feel on a midsummer day. You watched his mouth slowly bloom into a smile when made eye contact. You think in your mind that spring has never felt so warm.
—
You looked up at the trees in the process of blooming, white buds formulating on the branches.
“The trees are gonna be really pretty in about two weeks or so” you heard a voice from behind you. Him. You clenched the chocolate milk in your hand before turning towards him.
“Yeah— oh sorry i’m blocking the vending machine” you murmured, sliding away.
“Oh no no,, it’s fine,” he said before taking your spot and getting the same drink in your hand, “Are you by any chance— planning to confess to anybody?”
Oh, right. You looked up at the blossoming trees once again. The time of the season you once never understood. The time of the season you once could say you despised. Yet here you are, having the rush of spring flowing down your veins. Is this the adrenaline that everyone feels? The unknown feeling gave you goosebumps throughout your body as he asked you that question.
“I don’t quite know yet,” you simply responded, looking back at him taking the drink out of the machine, “What about you?”
A sheepish smile wiped on his face, his dimple showing ever so slightly. He shrugged before looking at you.
“Only my heart knows the answer to that question.”
—
Over the so little time you’ve known Asahi, you’ve picked up on his mannerisms and his actions.
For one, he was more on the reserved side, and even when he talked his voice would always be on the softer side. You unknowingly started to associate him with winter because he gave off the cold feeling of a winter night. It was also your favorite season.
Most people knew him because he was friends with Jaehyuk, one who was very popular amongst the school. You had heard a couple times in the hallway about how handsome Asahi was. The feeling you felt when hearing that was unknown to you.
He enjoyed drawing a lot; him and Yoshinori were the best out of the club (though you’d be a bit biased if asked whose art you liked more), and he was always focused on his work, always scrunching in a little corner tending to his painting. But yet he always complimented your drawings no matter how bad they were, never failing to give you a warm feeling right after.
You could say you had developed an endearment towards asahi.
You stepped out your home, looking at the once bare trees flutter into pink hues, you thought the cherry blossoms were beautiful.
Today you decided not to walk out with Jihoon because well— confession season is always different with that boy. You had no intentions to get caught up in his relations.
You took timid and slow steps towards school. Taking your time looking at the petals and happy groups walking and aweing at the blossoms. Your mind was also off somewhere— of course it was, it always was.
Arriving at school, you saw Jihoon getting flooded by countless individuals, a letter in most of their hands. You could say the same to Jaehyuk on the other side who was also getting bomboarded. You took your routined steps to your locker, opening it as per usual except— it wasn’t usual.
You watched the letter flutter out, swaying to the floor imitating a loose flower petal. Picking it up with a shaked up expression, you carefully opened it up.
You saw the scribbled up lines at the top of the letter, indicating that the said person was trying to make a poem.
‘ah— who am i kidding? i’m not one with words. i never was. yet here i am trying to pour my feelings out on this letter. but i cant seem to combine the right words to express it. maybe because my feelings could not be described in the first place. maybe my feelings are best not worded out on this crumpled up piece of notebook paper. because if i’m being honest— this is my 27th time writing this and yet i still cant get it down. just.. meet me at class 104B? 4:15 pm after school today? please? -♡
Your grip on the paper tightened, the heart fluttering confession bringing a small smile to your face. You looked back at your locker seeing chocolate milk in sitting atop. You grasped it in your hand, taking it out before closing the locker and heading to class, your hands gripping tightly onto the objects. Unknown to you a figure watching your every move with focused eyes.
As time went by in school awfully slowly, your mind went off to one person only. You had foolishly deluded yourself into thinking that the letter and milk was from him. well— he did see you buy chocolate milk that one time. And well,, the handwriting did have a print of him.
‘Enough thoughts. just wait until school ends and your mind can finally-‘ ring!
You looked up at the clock in shock, realizing that it was, in fact, 4:00pm.
You purposefully gathered up your belongings slowly, trying to pass as much time as possible. Putting your care into every single step taken, from the 1st floor to the second.
Taking a deep breath, you slid open the empty classroom door. It was very convenient that it was just across the art classroom as the club did have a meeting today.
You traveled across the room to look out the window, seeing someone announce their feelings to another under the cherry blossoms. Just last spring you would stick your tongue out in disgust yet here you are somewhat in the same position, your heart aching as each second ticks by.
You watched them hug each other, their feelings being reciprocated, a petal getting caught in ones hair. You looked at the trees and how it really set the mood, almost getting lost in the alluring sight until you heard someone clear their breath.
You turned around deliberately, looking down at your shoes before looking up.
Yet, you often found it as a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now. well— maybe not.
It’s him. The person right in front of your eyes is him.
You felt like the sun had just rose, your heart beating out of your chest almost like it was about to burst and run away. You felt the butterflies prance around in your stomach, feeling like you could cough one up right now. Does he feel the same right now?
“Ah,,, hello” he mustered shyly. You clenched the letter in your hand.
“Did you perhaps—“ though it was quite obvious, the slight nod from him gave you your answer.
You observed him, his hair slightly covering his eyes. Lightly kicking at his feet, you had figured he couldn’t compromise the right words.
“I have something for you” he spoke out after what seemed like a few minutes. He reached his hand out, silently telling you to take the initiative to grab it. You placed your hand in his, feeling like your hand was molded perfectly just to cusp his. His grip so gentle you could barely feel him grasp your hand.
Leading you to the art classroom across, your eyes spotting on the covered canvas on an easel. Using his other hand, he took off the cloth, your eyes widening in awe.
Your mouth laid agape as you looked at the drawing of a portrait of you with cherry blossoms in the background. Your heart stammering in your chest.
“Is this what you’ve been working on the entire time in art club?” you asked, eyes still on the painting. He hummed and nodded his head.
“Do you like it? Or is it a bit too—“
“No no! I like it a lot— Actually I love it. I love it so much” you cut him off, looking at him with excitement evident in your eyes. Words couldn’t describe the feeling flowing through you. Is this real?
“Well, I like you a lot too. I was trying to find a way to tell you, so I used my strong suit which is art” he proceeded to tell you, taking your other hand in his. He smiled tenderly at you, his signature dimple showing once more.
“Asahi— I like you too” you beamed, staring straight into his eyes. His smile widened more, his teeth showing. You took this as the initiative to hug him, arms wrapping around his neck, his wrapping around your waist.
You felt the sun shine on you, the warmth of spring immersing through you, your heart feeling more than alive as ever. The cherry blossoms you once thought as a mistake becoming the blessing in disguise for you. You think in the time of the moment that Spring has never felt so warm for you.
#treasure#treasure imagine#treasure imagines#treasure fluff#treasure scenario#treasure scenarios#hamada asahi#asahi#treasure asahi#asahi fluff#asahi imagine#hyunsuk#jihoon#yoshi#junkyu#mashiho#jaehyuk#yedam#doyoung#jeongwoo#haruto#junghwan#treasure blurb
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Jealousy pt. 2 | Bo x Reader x Vincent
Hey everyone! Here it is finally, part 2! I didn’t want to skip over reader’s time with Bo but I also didn’t want this to run crazy long soooo I’m going to write a part 3 as well that will focus more on Vincent so hang on for that.
__
You chewed your lip nervously as Bo’s truck rolled past the town line. It’d been over a year since you’d entered Ambrose and by this point you had given up all hope of ever seeing the outside world again. You looked over to your capture, if you could even still call him that now, and noticed a tenseness in his jaw. Cautiously you stretched your hand out towards him and let your finger tips caress his cheek. He initially flinched at the gentle contact, throwing you a wary glance but he eventually relaxed and leaned into the touch. “You have to stop clenching your jaw like that. It’s not good for you.” You watched the muscles loosen as he breathed deeply though his nose. “Thank you, darlin’.” You smiled over at him before letting your hand drop back to your lap, your fingers weaving themselves together. “I should thank you... Again... For trusting me,” you clarify. Bo’s hand left the steering wheel and rested over your own, squeezing softly. “Just don’t make me regret it.” You only nod but that seems to be enough for Bo.
You fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt as you peered out the window. You had loaded up the truck with groceries and building supplies and now all that was left to do was get dinner. The sun had just gone down and dusk was here, the sky churned a beautiful dark purple color. You eyed the little shops that dotted the stretch of road and all of the people walking around even now as the street lights flickered on. They laughed, smiled, and shopped. You wished you could be so blissfully unaware once again. You’d grown to love Ambrose and care fro all 3 of the Sinclair brothers but... You cut your own thoughts short, leaning back into your seat. As if he could sense your thoughts Bo squeezed your knee to draw your attention. You look up at him with a wavering smile as he parked. “C’mon now. We’re gonna have a nice time.” He opened the door up before sliding out and offering you his hand. You took it in your own and followed after him. He interlocked your fingers and you supposed it was more so you’d keep close by than anything else. You thought back to when you and Bo first entered town. He’d gripped you tightly by the shoulders and demanded you meet his intense gaze. ‘Don’t talk to anyone and don’t try to run off. Understand?’ You were quick to agree but Bo’s hands seemed to linger near you the whole time, ensuring you wouldn’t get far. Something that the man at the hardware store, Bo had called him Samuel, read as a romantic gesture. You blushed as you thought about how he’d called you a cute couple and complimented Bo on your appearance. Something that made him pull you closer. Now as you walked hand and hand with Bo down the street towards a petite restaurant you supposed you really did look like a couple. You looked over to him and caught his gaze. “I hope you’re hungry, this spot has the best Cajun food out this way. Lester and Vinny are gonna be happy when we bring ‘em back somethin’.” Your lips twisted into a smile, Bo might be rough around the edges but he really did care for his brothers. You thought it was sweet. He’d even made an effort to get things they liked from the grocery store and bought Lester new socks.
As you came to the entrance of the restaurant you grabbed Bo’s arm with your free hand and moved closer to him. You weren’t sure if it was so he’d know you weren’t going to try anything or because you were becoming used to Bo pulling you in. He requested a small table for two at the back of the dimly lit establishment, far from the door and within view of the bathroom if you asked to go. When you arrived at your table Bo’d pulled your chair out for you before sitting with his back to the corner. The waitress left you two with menus before wandering off. Your eyes scanned the options and as they did your stomach growled. Bo chuckled and grinned up at you. “Sounds like I picked a good spot. Get whatever ya want.” When the waitress returned Bo ordered a bottle of white wine for the two of you before placing his order, he opted for a crawfish étouffée. When she turned to you your eyes instinctively moved to Bo waiting for his nod, permission to speak, before ordering your own food. Bo reached across the table and took your hand in his own. You gladly leaned in, resting your elbows on the table. His thumb grazed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I’m glad you came with me. It’s nice to have company.” “I’m glad you don’t regret it. I’m having a good time.” Bo nodded in agreement. “Maybe we can do this more often.” He brought you knuckles up to his lips and kissed them gently. “If you’re good for me.” The tone of his voice sent shivers down your back. When your food wand wine were brought out Bo pulled back all at once. “Let’s eat!”
When you and Bo finally left it was fully dark an you were both stuffed with good food. You clung to Bo’s arm and for the first time he wasn’t holding onto you like you were about to make a run for it. Instead he laughed at you as you stumbled over your own feet. The two of you had polished off 2 bottles of wine and you definitely weren’t used to drinking anymore. “Don’t you laugh at me Bo Sinclair.” You leaned your body weight against him, trying to playfully topple him. But Bo was like a brick wall. “If I knew you were such a lightweight I would’ve cut ya off ya know.” “Pfft, a year ago I could of drank you under the table. Not my fault my tolerance is shot now.” He only shrugged at that as be brought you back to the truck. He opened the door for you before scooping you up in his arms, making you squeak. “Just makin’ sure you don’t get hurt.” He placed you gently into the truck and you scooted over so Bo could climb in beside you. You set down Lester and Vincent’s food before settling easily into Bo’s side. He smirked to himself and wrapped an arm around you. You leaned your head against his shoulder and he looked down at you fondly, his fingers brushing through your hair before he pulled out of his spot and took off back towards home.
The ride back seemed much shorter than the hour ride into town, maybe because you were tipsy and tired or maybe because this time Bo made an effort at conversation. He spoke lowly into your ear, so close you could feel his smile. And even though his words were casual it felt so intimate. You were used to Bo flirting sure but recently things were different. He was softer with you the past month, sweet even. And now he even trusted you to leave town with him. You didn’t know how or why this shift happened but you liked it. You liked having Bo’s arm around you, taking long rides with him, eating dinner alone with him. The two of you finally rolled back into town and instead of the dread you thought you’d feel you were happy. Glad to be home where you could crawl into your warm bed and go to sleep after a nice night out.
You helped Bo carry in the groceries and put them away along with Lester and Vincent’s food before hopping up on the counter. Bo came to stand in front of you, his hands on either side of your waist. “Did ya have a good time?” A shy smile stretched your face. “The best time.” His hand came up to play with the ends of your hair. “Good date?” Your eyebrows shot up in a way that would have made Bo laugh if he wasn’t eager for your answer. “Was this a date Bo?” He hummed lowly to himself, “I suppose it’s not. Ya know. Dates usually end with a kiss.” Your face flushed but you brought your arms up to wrap them around Bo’s neck, pulling him closer and leaning in. “Well I suppose you des-” you were cut off by Bo’s lips crashing into your own. His hands came to rest on your jaw and his lips moved clumsily but firmly against your own. The pure need that you felt radiating off of him was surprising but you found you liked it. You buried your fingers into the thick dark hair at the nape of his neck and kissed back, your eyes closing. You were so lost in the kiss that you didn’t hear the creek of footsteps just outside the entrance to the kitchen. But it didn’t escape Bo’s attention, instead it prompted him to bite your bottom lip making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from you. After a moment Bo pulled away, almost like he didn’t want to push his luck. You were both breathing heavily but he still leaned in to give you another small kiss before he stepped back a fraction. His smirk, which you used to hate, now looked so good on him. You giggled softly and leaned your forehead on his shoulder. “Yeah, good date.” He rubbed circles into your lower back before picking you up and setting you back down on your feet. “I’m glad. How about you head up to bed? I bet you’re tired.” You gave a little nod. “Yeah, good night Bo.” You pecked his cheek before walking off towards the stairs.
Bo sighed to himself, satisfied before turning to the hallway you hadn’t turned down. Vincent stood awkwardly just past the doorway. Bo strolled up to him, reaching deep down into his pocket. He pulled out Vincent’s drawing and pressed it against his chest. “You dropped this. And you’d be better off if y/n didn’t see it. Dinner’s in the fridge.” With that Bo slipped bast his brother and into the living room to watch some TV and have a nightcap.
#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#house of wax#slasher imagines#slasher x reader#complete
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