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#wanted to use ink again its so fun
b4kuch1n · 9 months
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fanciful stories (you're way too good at this)
(that's not what it's about. being good at it)
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doodlboy · 10 months
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Local man seething @ 2am bc of silly paint game
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gamermattsgf · 1 month
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“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris
Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ‘good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation
Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.
Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.
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“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman
. ♱ .
You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.
‘You good?’
Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.
His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.
You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.
The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.
‘Yeah… I’m fine’
You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.
‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’
Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.
You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?
Not well is your guess…
Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.
‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’
This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.
From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.
It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.
You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.
It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.
Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.
He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.
Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.
Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.
Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.
‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.
You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.
His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.
Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.
Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.
Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.
Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.
‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.
‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.
Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.
‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.
The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.
He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.
You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.
Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.
You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.
Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’
You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.
At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.
‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.
Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.
‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.
You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.
‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.
Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.
‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.
Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.
You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.
Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.
You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.
Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.
His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.
‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.
As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.
‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.
You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.
He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.
He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.
You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.
Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.
‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’
You look at him in confusion.
‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.
You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.
The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.
He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.
‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.
He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.
Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.
Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.
‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.
As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.
‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.
Chris goes straight for the client table though.
He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.
‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.
He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.
‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.
Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.
Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.
‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.
Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.
You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.
The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.
‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.
‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.
Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.
Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.
Chris hums a casual ‘huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.
‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.
‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.
‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’
This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.
‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.
Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.
‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.
Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.
He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.
Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.
You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.
You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.
Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.
He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.
He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.
His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.
‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.
Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.
‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.
‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.
‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.
Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.
He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.
After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.
‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.
His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.
Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.
‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.
‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.
From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.
‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.
‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.
Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.
Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.
He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.
As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.
Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.
Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.
You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.
You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.
‘I’m all yours Chris’
You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.
Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.
He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.
‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…
‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.
You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.
The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.
He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.
‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.
You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.
As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.
‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.
Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.
‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.
You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.
But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.
So you do.
Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.
He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.
He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.
The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.
‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.
You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.
‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.
Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.
‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.
Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.
‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.
You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.
‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.
However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.
He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.
You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.
His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.
Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.
He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.
He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.
‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.
‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’
Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.
‘Yes ma’am…’
. ♱ .
Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.
He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.
You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.
He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.
He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.
With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.
Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x
. ♱ .
Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattslolita @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi
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uva124 · 2 months
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THE MOMENT WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR, FINALLY FINISHED THE DESIGN OF ASTER YESSSSSS ✨✨✨✨✨✨❤❤
This design belongs to the Wish rewrite called "The kingdom of wishes" (Written by @annymation and soon illustrated by @emillyverse and me)
Sorry for the delay, but this guy had so many things to draw and I also had a thousand ideas that it took me a while to capture them all (4 drawings wow, even I'm surprised lol)
Now after this introduction I will tell you the procedure of its design :]
2D MODEL:
-Maybe some don't notice it, but for the 2D drawing of Aster I didn't add many shadows, because in the classic Disney movies the animation doesn't have many shadows if we look closely, this is for several reasons (at that time they had to inking FRAME BY FRAME, can you imagine how much longer it would have taken to add detailed shadows? I really have respect for the animators)
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(Here are some examples of what I'm trying to explain)
-As I said before, I didn't detach myself much from the concept art of the movie, I just added some other details that occurred to me, Anny and Emy.
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-We decided that his cape would have the constellations of the signs of the zodiac (It was Emy's idea), which in the final result are on the cape, the constellations are noticeable more or less depending on Aster's mood.
-In the Wish rewrite it is mentioned that Aster's hair is like a candle (Reference to Hades) so I decided not to add the lineart in that part
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His hair changes depending on his emotions, but not only that, but also his lineart, the calmer he is, the cleaner his animation will be, however with strong emotions (anger, sadness, nervousness) his details will be more neglected, especially when He is REALLY angry, by the way I made his hair look like a flame to give more drama to his design and also make a reference to Ember from Elemental
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And as a final detail, the star-shaped gem that she has as a brooch changes color, just like her earrings.
3D MODEL:
-When Aster disguises himself as a human, his details on his clothes would disappear and the shape of his accessories would change to ones without a star shape, also the tone of yellow would look duller, you know so as not to draw attention (although he is dressed like a prince with a giant cape, the boy doesn't know how to hide the truth very well lmao)
-In general, it's just that the design becomes simpler, the only thing that changes is her hair that is no longer a flame, her freckles that are no longer little stars, her clothes no longer have so many details and her mark on her eye disappears( ̄▽ ̄) .
By the way, I wanted to thank @the-autistic-idiot for giving us the great idea of ​​Aster having a star-shaped mark on his eye :D.
-Also, I think that those who have seen my other Wish redesigns are wondering why it seems like I had spit a rainbow at Aster's 3D drawings, what happened is that when I was painting my neurons said ✨Change your coloring✨ and well, The drawing in the end came out like this, although I honestly like it better, it better represents how I draw in a traditional way
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Yes, basically the coloring of my drawings is as if a unicorn had spit on them lol
FINAL COMMENTS:
-It was very fun to draw Aster! The boy really has a lot of changes, but thanks to him I already discovered my digital drawing style so I am satisfied.
-Again sorry for the delay, I know that for many Aster must be their favorite character so I hope your wait was worth it :]
See you next time!✨✨
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Style experimentation feat. zim and dib (rough chronological order). This is the most fun I've had drawing in a long time!! Still kind of in shock over it.
This all started from Two Things: A.) I've been looking at animatics in preparation to make a ✨Portfolio✨, and B.) I saw some fanart that had me making heart eyes and I still can't stop looking at it.
When I first started this invader zim kick a couple months ago, I didn't think it was going to lead me down this path. I thought I was going to draw some of the characters in "my style", and eventually move onto something else. I don't know HOW it ended up being this sort of retrospective muse for me, where I'm challenging myself and trying new things. Maybe iz isn't the cause, maybe this would have happened regardless of what characters I was drawing. But here we are.
And I am so so so happy for it because I USED to draw like this all the time!!! This is what my sketchbook used to look like!! And somehow I just?? Forgot? That I could draw this way. That there wasn't anything stopping me. And that it would be so FUN. You can literally draw, and make the characters less detailed, but simultaneously more exaggerated and expressive, AND you can make more drawings in less time?? Ive always been a quantity over quality person when it comes to drawing, and i think its the animator in me that loves drawing like that. I was drawing all day yesterday. I didn't want to put the pencil down, and it's been a long time since I've felt that way about drawing. I had so much fun and I don't want to draw any other way ever again...That's just how I feel right now at least.
I swear, I probably come off as the most wishy washy person. First I messed around with zims design multiple times, now I'm inking stuff, now I'm drawing cartoonier. THIS IS NEW FOR ME I SWEAR... its been a long long time since ive let myself draw this way. I guess I just hadn't realized how much I was restricting myself.
Anyway, rough chronological order. The first adult dib page (second to last image) was actually the first one I drew. You can tell from the last page that I used the shapes n such from the kid dib on the older dib to make it look more like him. The big forehead is actually pretty crucial lol
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000marie198 · 25 days
Note
Are there any sonic au’s you would recommend? I am trying to find more to get into so would love to know if you have any favourites out there :D
Hello! Oh there are so many! :D I definitely have some favorites and some which aren't favs but are pretty great.
Putting these under the cut because there are so many! And there's definitely more cool AUs that I haven't seen or haven't saved.
Anyways, please enjoy my personal selection:
Seven Years Too Soon by NightFuchia. Basically what if a much younger Sonic accidentally set Shadow free from Prison Island. It has awesome characterization and happens to be one of my favorite stories. The rest of Team Sonic is also present
Brotherhood's Twist by @/drawloverlala even though I don't think it counts entirely as Au but it still sort of does. Unbreakable Bond ageswitch due to Zeti's meddling.
Passion's @sonic-tangled-au . I love it! So very much. The lore and backstories are so good.
Noonui's World Restored in Imbalanced Chaos au. Extremely engaging and good. Has a bunch of world building and fun concepts and lore.
Sonic's Super Totally Awesome Mixtape, though it seems to be discontinued, I'm not sure. It's pretty good so far! Takes place in the movie verse.
@brainworms-all-night-long is working on a Dreamtale Au which I'm hyped for. The tag in use is 'dreamtale and sonic tomfoolery'.
@/the-starlight-project comic is pretty good too. Mystery! And emotions. So many emotions ough.
And there's @the-emerald-isle-au by @0vergrowngraveyard . Very intriguing. 👀
Please do check out the Pandora Au by @/starrjoy. It's great!
The Fair Folk by Irritable_Fabulamancer, this fic is one of my favorites! Team Sonic as Fae my beloved! I love fae AUs.
On that note, if you're alright wanting to read a Fae!AU which is pretty much a sonadow fic, there is also I don't believe in fairy tales [but I believe in you and me]. Fantasy and Fae! Satbk inspired, another one that had me hooked.
My Arms Are Blue by thekyuubivixen and its unofficial, fan-continuation (My Arms Are Blue! Final Four Edition) by PlaystationPassenger. The story doesn't completely count as an AU but I'm recommending them anyway cuz they're really really good and has that watching your own show from different dimension trope. It's also hilarious and fun.
Burning Arrow, Wildfire Heart by Taranea is SatSR novelisation AU with Sonic's other friends present too, it's pretty fun. Not very accurate regarding the desert but it's a good read and I come back to reread it often. Must read in my opinion. Just don't dare use it as guide for desert travel or you'll be shriveled up in the sand somewhere
This fic. Read it, I will not elaborate this one. Just trust me :]
And don't miss out on @shadofiredragon's Legends Never Die fic. It's a future fic! And an awesome one. I won't spoil much but it is so good. She also has lots of fun AUs in the works.
Down the Foxhole series by MoonlitNightin. Sonic Prime AU series which is great! Tails' pov. The Shatterverses have their own Sonics. Engaging and great.
Feel free to check out @/Son1c's 10verse and other AUs. Those are some pretty great ones. Love the different lore and variants given to the Shatterverses in 10verse.
Spirit of the Wind by TrenchCoatGecko. Satbk inspired fantasy au. Sonamy, has focus on magic and lore and other characters as well.
If you'd like some Forces angst with Unbreakable Bond focus, please do read Illusionary are your arms around me by @nixoon-again. The feels will kill you /pos
Chaos Barren by but_why_not. I forgot to add this earlier (this is an edited addition). Takes place in the Blue Devils AU, great story!
Baby Tails shenanigans by @myymi . Tails got turned into itty bitty infant kit. (And also check @0vergrowngraveyard 'baby tails' tag for more little gremlin scenarios)
Myla is also working on @tails-and-the-ink-machine au
Feral au by Oneshot_bravo. Little short stories or drabbles taking place in Unleashed but the werehog is feral yet keeps his memories. Very lighthearted and fun and cute
Three or more foxes form a skulk by @/chiropter36 . Post Prime au fic, loved it! Go read.
Also, @donelywell 'roadtrip! sonic au' and 'Casino Nights Au'
Haven't yet started reading The Fox's Burrow by @/space-gutz but I'm planning to. Recommending it either way cuz I feel like it's gonna be good. Unbreakable Bond but ageswaped au.
@/sonicchaoscontrol comic. Another in-progress au which is also quite intriguing. Sonic jumps through a portal and exits in future where the planet is a mess. The mystery of what and how it all happened and what's going on slowly unfolds.
The Buzzsaw Dillemma by redpenship. I haven't personally read it myself but I've heard many good things about it, especially it's world building.
Incomplete and won't be updated anymore but if you haven't read them yet, DO NOT miss out on Ghosts of the Future and The Murder of Me fancomics by Evan Stanley (spiritsonic) and Gigi Deutrix (gigi-D) respectively. They're a must read. Both are available on DeviantArt.
The Heart of a Monster comic, @/the-heart-of-a-monster. It's in progress and updates regularly. Unleashed retelling, really really good with some extra lore and everyone involved.
Sometimes the Picket Fence isn’t Perfect and Sharp Edges (Sonic Prime AU) series by @/skimmingthesurfaces. I'm holding off the first one to read later, like that one book you've been saving so I'm not sure if it completely counts as an AU, still putting it in recs, and the second one is intriguing so far. I have heard a lot of good thing about the Picket Fence series.
Dark Boom by Smash50. The entirety of Team Dark in the Sonic Boom universe. Alongside it, there's also Boomtober by the same author.
It Always Snows by the 24th by Selendred had me hooked even though it's a oneshot. Great au and would love to see it explored more.
No One said I Wish by SylWritesStuff. One of my fav stories from the Sonic Platonic Fairytale Week event. It's really funny.
Sonic Phantom Forces (SPF) au comic. Sonic Forces au, blue boy gets taken away but not in the way you think, pretty cool story so far. It's in-progress and available on both Tumblr and DeviantArt. @/spfau
If Black Doom tried to be a better father by Tirainy. Don't take this one seriously. It's pure comedy and I love every second of it. Shadow is having a time for sure XD.
Silent Talkers by @brainworms-all-night-long. Takes place in the Prime Bros verse, feels intensified, all the good ones. A must read, trust me.
And speaking of the Prime Bros AU (in which all Shatterverse foxes also got adopted by Sonic and are now brothers), feel free to scroll through the 'prime bros' tag here. So many awesome posts for this particular au by everyone!
There's so many more, cool ones, epic ones. I haven't saved all and I'm probably forgetting some great ones too so I'm leaving this open for others to add. If y'all have more cool AUs, plz add to these (I wanna check em out too)
....
And now a few from the Fanfiction.net site because it doesn't have much audience compared to AO3 and there are some actual gems hidden there;
Premonition by thekiyuubivixen (not entirely an au but it feels like one due to the unique ability Sonic gains)
The Sonic Project by SconnieSA. Rated M but it's a pretty awesome AU and the rating is due to more serious themes and uncensored language in some parts. Highly recommending this one
Survivor's Resolve by DC111. Not entirely an AU but I must rec this fic it's so good and doea havs some AU vibes.
Sonic the Hedgehog: Attorney of Law by thedraconicwerewolf. Ace Attorney type AU with Sonic and Tails as main characters. Not too adventurous but very very fun and interesting and still managed to keep Sonic in character. Though it has a sequel started, I only rec the main story, not the sequal as it seems to be abandoned and isn't needed to be read like them cliffhanger stories.
beLIEve by Meow21. I have only read snippets from this, waiting for this story to continue but it seems to be discontinued. Felt like an epic story too and deserves to be recommended.
Sonic and the Golden Journey. Sonic gets thrown in another storybook, this time it's a children's classic fairytale. Short but very comedic and fun. Go read it.
Tales of a Samurai. I am begging you to read this one, please it's so good. Also by Taranea.
Wonderful and it's sequal Sanctuary by Inflamore for some Unbreakable Bond angst. (Kindly ignore the obliviousness of earlier ff.net for not knowing the meaning of certain symbols, there's nothing of the sort in story, trust me.)
Regrets by MazzyBooks. A high school au of sorts. Sonic centric with some heavy angst. I'm not kidding about the angst part, trust me. It had me hooked from the first chapter though and I believe it deserves a rec.
You need the cracks (to let the light shine through) by king.needlemouse. Istg this is the most underrated thing I've ever come across, it's one of my absolute favorite fics which I can never forget. Do read it.
Within this Nightmare by sonicfan1990. Sonic get transported to an alternate universe which has gone post apocalyptic and his counterpart in that universe has been dead. Pretty great story, lots of angst and everything.
And that's all I could remember and have saved for now. I'm leaving this open to more AU recs (yes even self plugs are welcome) so if you know any I missed, plz feel free to add. I hope you enjoy all these great AUs!
Thanks for the ask!
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evelmiina · 7 months
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Love your work! I wanted to ask what your process is like when it comes to coming up with a design/composition to a piece? Do you have any specific methods you use or it is more improvised:)? Thanks!
I'd say both - method and improvisation. To me all pictures are basically shapes organized in a pleasing way. Even when I draw lines I think more about overall shapes together and how I feel about them. There's a lot to consider about design and composition, some pretty smart books on the subject are Marcus Mateu-Mestre: Framed Ink and Hans Bacher: Vision - color and composition for film. I'm still learning all the time and I make mistakes but I think method to making composition comes down to: readability and narrative intention, moving from simplicity to complex. But it's also fun and important to play around and see what works, that's why my process is not always the same and I can show some examples. Here are the sketches and final I did for my Magic card illustration:
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This is my go-to method when I want to rely on tried and true process and I know I won't get lost once I start drawing/painting because I can rely on my steps. I don't always do things this way, but for paid work I want the client to have as clear idea of my intention as possible. The reasoning why 3 worked the best is because it's more dynamic and dimensional than 2, but more readable than 1. It also best showcases how the tower is supposed to be huge, something that was important for the design.
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This on the other hand was personal work and I approached it in more relaxed way just to see where it goes. Still I think what made me want to finish it is I liked the variety of shapes and rhythm of the room, like how the screens lead towards the doorway, lot of rectangles but varied in their size and angle. If it was client work I probably would've been called out in the sketch, because the focal point is this empty wall that makes no sense. I came up with the idea of shadow of a window while making it and in the end it worked, but it was an example how I made a big design problem for myself that I was gambling on to figure out.
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This one had very specifically just one photo reference, but I did the sketch to put down the essentials of what I was seeing in the photo. In the end I referenced dog's face and pose more from the photo so it looks more natural, which was also funnier than my own initial interpretation
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Sometimes the initial comp just doesn't pan out exactly. I did the sketch for this Unicorn fanart and I even drew the interior at some point, but it just Did Not Work for me, I also discarded the idea of medieval dragon in the statue for same reason. So it sat in my folder for a while until I could look at it again and after taking a break, I still liked the statue and the general idea, but decided to make the surroundings easier to look at so that the statue stands out better.
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When I did the sketch for this dragon I wanted it to feel big and heavy, like lifting its head from the ground. But I didn't want to do vertical picture which lead me to painting over digitally and extending the picture, then painting the whole thing traditionally anyway.
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ask-dbd-wh-au · 8 months
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DBD AU Welcome Home Reference Sheets + Facts
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Wally and Y/N are the only two currently trapped in the Entity's realm!
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The Neighborhood! Currently Unaware of Wally's whereabouts and is assumed missing/dead, they have no idea about the entity at all nor know who Y/N is.
Fun Facts About DBD (Dead by Daylight) AU Wally:
He was captured by the entity and is one of the many made to kill to feed the entity unwillingly
He obeys the entity in hopes of one day returning home/to his friends
The further the match goes on the more his hair starts to fall down out of his pompadour
Whenever he's seen crying black ink its majority of the time him mourning what he's lost and/or missing his friends/Home
Sometimes when he's alone he mutters to himself either about his friends, echoing convos he used to have w/ them, or is talkin to 'them' despite no one bein there
He hums Beautiful Dreamer to himself, almost like a comfort to distract himself from the reality of things
His hums work a lot like the Huntress
His eyes are always wide open, rarely lidded/relaxed
The entity absorbed itself partially into Wally's body and only bursts out in the back to make the claws to travel
The claws Wally can mostly control, the tendrils/tentacles is entirely the entity and he has absolute no control over them
The claws are entirely inspired by the same ones that covers gens and forms on hooks so think of them as relatively the same
Whenever Wally resists the Entity he feels intense pain throughout his whole body bc of the entity
Wally has only most control in the claws bc if he stays still/refuse to chase the Entity will take control and force Wally to go after survivors again; In a way the Entity is like a puppeteer if Wally disobeys, it takes control of his movements until he does what it wants again
Wally isn't willingly killing anyone, he does so because of the entity and the empty promise that obeying means he'll return home one day
Wally disassociates often bc of having to kill and sometimes hallucinates audio and visually
There's no true way for Wally to see/reunite with his friends unless he finally escapes the entity or the entity kidnaps them to become a survivor
The others don't know where Wally has gone, Home is the most distressed about this with Barnaby being a close second
The AU works with the theory/concept that WH exists in like a pocket universe where all the puppets are actually alive however Wally is the only one with a puppet in the real world/human world that he can actually control and such + is the only one aware of the real world outside of Home who only knows because Wally confided to him about it
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DBD! Wally's Mori:
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FAQ About the DBD AU
Q: What is DBD? A: Its an abbreviation for dead by daylight, what's dead by daylight? Its a game, google can go more in depth about it more than I can!
Q: Will any of your aus be made into ai chat bots? A: No. My boundaries have been breached a million times over on this so anyone mentioning anything about ai bots will get blocked.
Q: Is DBD Wally a spider? A: No, he had no bug like influence. Wally was inspired by the Entity claws from the actual game and Doc Oc from Spiderman/Spiderverse.I have a huge bug/arachnophobia so no, he is not a spider
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stellar-skyy · 1 month
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hihi! an iced english breakfast tea with father figure blade?
“iced english breakfast tea here, for... ah, who was it? Oh, of course! Blade!”
☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!
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i. SUMMARY: While on a trip, you receive a letter from a certain Stellaron Hunter. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. PLATONIC blade & gn!reader, brief silver wolf & reader, kafka & reader. father figure!blade. found family fluff. 0.5k words. iii. A/N: hi anon! this request was actually much further in the queue, but i finished it quickly so i thought i might as well post it now.
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The letter is penned on bright white paper, covered in small creases that have been smoothed out. The writing on it is small, with some parts crossed out and rewritten, filling the entire page. In the corner is a small series of doodles in purple ink, crude drawings of the three Stellaron Hunters and you. The envelope is beside it with the wax seal broken, smelling faintly of spider lilies.
Inside, it reads:
[Name],
I hope this letter reaches you well, if it reaches you in the first place. I must admit I am skeptical of the effectiveness of the intergalactic postal system, but it isn’t as if there is another way to contact you, aside from tossing the letter into outer space and hoping it finds its way to the planet you are currently on.
I think this is the longest it’s been without seeing you since you were young. It is much too quiet without you around; Silver Wolf has attempted to fill the silence, but I hardly understand what she is talking about half of the time and I do not care to ask. When you return, you will have to inform me what ‘dps’ and ‘maxed out’ means, because I know asking her now will only give me a long-winded spiel about those video games she is obsessed with.
Despite you being gone several weeks now, it’s still been difficult to adjust to having one fewer member of the group. I have been turning the corner, expecting you to be there waiting for me, but I am constantly finding myself alone. Kafka tells me it’s the mother hen instincts, but she doesn’t know what she is talking about.
Silver Wolf has been asking about you non-stop, telling me she wants her Player Two back. She made me play with her for a bit, but according to her, I’m so terrible at the games that it isn’t even fun to beat me. I’m not sure what she means, she beats you all the time anyway, but when I told her that she just rolled her eyes.
Kafka misses you too, though she’s at least got enough emotional maturity to admit that out loud instead of sulking. When she found out I was writing this letter, she made me promise to tell you she can’t wait to see you again, and you’d better be taking care of yourself. I think she feels the same as I do, even as she teases me for it. Things just aren’t the same with one less person.
I know you’re wondering about me, but I’ll keep it short—I’m fine. My condition is no better than you last saw me, but it is no worse either. You don’t have to worry, and I mean that with honesty.
I trust you are using this well-deserved break to its fullest, taking in the sights and not causing any excess trouble. Elio doesn’t allow vacations very often—it’s a wonder he approved this one, with all the missions he’s sent us on lately—so make sure you take advantage of it. If you are in a tough situation, you only need to remember what Kafka and I have taught you: hit them fast and hard, and don’t leave any witnesses.
Be safe. I’ll see you soon.
Blade
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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veintrry · 1 year
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WORDS OF INK.
writer!kunikuzushi x gn!reader, fluff, romance, little short thing, library au, silly guy silly feelings. Not proofread!
an: hello to me spawning suddenly again 🫶 (I'm going through hell with these exams, help.) part two
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When a skilled writer who's more than capable of writing only the finest of letters for others is requested by a common visitor to fulfill a request, he founds a new worry surround him alongside an outcome he never would have foreseen.
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Misery. That is how he'd describe how love felt. It was a gruelling battle and archons, he had begun rethinking all the love letters he's written for others now that he has felt it for himself. Is this what people feel, this unbridled attachment, this need for connection like a course of electricity throughout two wires - a conversation?
He hadn't taken note of you before, you had begun to walk by this library, your eyes skimming the titles on display. You who'd enter and go to the bookshelves in the back where only your shadow confirmed your presence. And you'd stay there for what felt like ages, browsing, reading, seemingly spending your free time here. For a while it stayed that way and you were merely just someone who visited. I mean, he didn't really notice that much, after all, he didn't even work in that part of the library!
He just so happened to notice from his uncomfortable wooden seat when you'd enter. The ring of the door bell jingles was different when you pushed it and his eyes would shoot over to the entrance like a dog waiting for its owner to appear. He didn't even know you, god.
One day, however, a poster was put up, it was an announcement for a deal regarding the letters. Some may say having someone else write your letters takes the fun out of them, though the point was to word it in a more appealing way, a way that captured the buyers want. These letters varied, but many would request writing regarding loved ones from family to friends to lovers. And he'd write them, the stroke of his pen drawing lines that formed letters and then made words and then... created life. Yet he didn't feel it himself, but others did. He was good at it, they said.
You noticed that poster and therefore, you noticed him.
Your request was simple, you desired a love letter. He asked you what you wanted to express and you simply told him to write what he believes was best. He though that was a bit shallow, he didn't expect that from you but maybe he was wrong to make an assumption on your character when he barely knew you. So he wrote what he believe would be most appealing, he wrote using the descriptions you gave him and the ink that tainted the paper black drew a painting of love with phrases and personifications. He gave it to you and you beamed. There was.. something nice about that.
You came again two weeks later, you wanted another. So he asked you again, what you wanted to express and you answered the same. So he wrote what he felt was best again. He gave it to you, your hands gripped the paper open envelope gently as you read the letter and there was a glimmer in your orbs. In a sense, he felt he could... express his own emotions this way, though he felt bitter. Not only did he not manage to have a proper conversation with you, but he was writing letters for you for someone else.
You came again four days after. Quite the passionate lover you are and he asks you if you want the same thing and you nod your head, watching as he pulls out a fresh crisp piece of paper, he raises a brow at your presence still near him and you ask him if you can watch.
He doesn't know how to reply. There's a silence that follows.
"Just... don't interrupt me."
His tone makes it sounds like he's biting the inside of his bottom lip, almost bothered by your request. As he writes he feels that though the words form with ease, thoughts.. worries, taint his mind. Did you desire to observe him to perhaps replicate what he does, to do what he does for you for your lover? To make these yourself for them? That he will lose what little connection he holds to you? The fingers of his free hand tap on the wooden oak desk. Your gaze is so focused onto him, he can feel you looming behind him, your attentive eye picking up on everything.
When he finishes, he's just about to ask you to write your own signature, so maybe he can view you for a change but when he turns around he finds himself doing something he shouldn't. A nonsensical stupid question leaves his mouth, "What's...your name?" And you tilt your head at him, like he had spoken something outrageous, because he had. He knows your name, you registered it when you applied for the product, you listed it because how else would the facility know its actually you?
And yet, you humour him. You answer him and he finds himself melting at the mere sound of your name not because this is new information but because you're telling this to him, clearly knowing that it's something he is already aware of. Then, you return his question. He blankly stares at you, then turns away whilst his hand beckons you forward with the hilt of the pen. "...Call me whatever you'd like."
You take this as him possibly keeping his privacy or being mysterious, you lean forward taking the pen from his grasp and he feels his ears burn as your fingers graze his, the warmth of your skin feels like it burned his hand and... he liked it. As you bend you notice his hand over his mouth as he obviously avoids your gaze without shame. You let out an airy chuckle but you notice his name title, pinned onto the chest of his vest. "Ku-ni-ku-zu-shi." How you spelled it out makes it sound like you were trying to engrain it into your memory but as he hears you speak that name he sharply turns to you, before his eyes move to where you're looking and let's out a small 'oh'.
Maybe he wasn't as reserved and brooding as you initially thought on first glance.
Only in this moment does he realise something. The name you had been addressing the letters to, was your own. Had you perhaps been so stupid as to not know how a letters format works?
You tilt the pen towards him and he appears confused, the spot where your signature was meant to be is still empty as it always is. "Can you sign it off for me?"
And lord knows the shock he had to hold back at your words. Yet, he dismisses it. He's looking to deep into it, yes, that's the case... "Why?" He wasn't meant to say that aloud. "I... want you to do it." It's a bad reasoning, in fact, he wouldn't even consider it a reason in general, but can he decline you, is it even fine he does this? Though as he debates this his fingers bend the ballpoint pen down, writing his name flawlessly in black. Crap.
You giggle. He thinks he feels his breathing quicken. Kunikuzushi opens his mouth to announce something anything, and- "There's a spring deal that you get two letters for one!" No, there isn't.
"That would mean you still have to collect the other one." What the hell am I saying?!
"Tomorrow. Come here again."
Why did I make it sound like some forced date??
"Okay?" Don't agree, don't agree, don't agree. You give the tiniest of smiles, only he would notice the slight quirk at the corner of your lips. "Alright!"
He waits for you to leave the library, letter in hand as you walk with a bounce outside, the jingle affirming your departure.
...
Fuck.
He tucks his own face into his folded arms, groaning loudly as if he had just made the worst decision of his life and in truth, he might've. But the worst part, the worst worst part, is that he can't stop himself from think that small encounter you had. And he hates to admit it, but he was so glad you didn't say no, that you didn't reject the offer - didn't reject him.
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say-al0e · 1 year
Text
Bad Day
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Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rooster knew that wedding planning wouldn’t be fun. He didn’t take into account how difficult it would prove when family got involved. 
Warnings: Abusive parents (no details, but implied), parental mental disorders (again, no details, but mentioned), bad/nonexistent relationship with family, Rooster reflecting on his family.
Pairing: Rooster x fem!Reader (I think can technically be read as gender neutral but, just in case, tagging as fem!reader)
Word Count: 2.3k
Top Gun Taglist | Requests are open!
The sound of slamming doors was not one often heard in your shared home. The few times it happened, it was an accident or the subject of a quick apology. Most of the time, when either you or Bradley arrived home, it was to the sound of music or idle chatter as someone spoke on the phone. Others, it was silence, though that depended on how the day had gone.
When Bradley arrived home to a flurry of movement and noise, he knew that whatever it was was bad. He assumed it was work related, as it so often seemed to be lately, and stood quietly as he watched you storm around the kitchen. Your anger would ebb, or boil over enough for you share your feelings sooner or later, he just had to wait it out.
His entrance was quiet and went unnoticed. You were too caught up in the emotions roiling in the pit of your stomach to feel the weight of his gaze as he took the time to observe you. Little had changed about the kitchen since he’d left for work - a pile of wedding magazines your mother sent were scattered across the counter, a few samples of card stock you’d picked up for invitations remained in a heap, and the notepad you’d been using to keep track of it all had a flurry of ink smeared across it - and he began to wonder if that had more to do with your mood than work.
The pair of you had yet to set a wedding date - his schedule was a little more set these days, since returning to Top Gun as an instructor, but there was never really any guarantee when planning something so far out - but he knew the planning wasn’t exactly your favorite thing.
Still, he was surprised when you finally turned and met his eyes. Yours, while usually so bright and full of life, were rimmed red and clearly exhausted. It had been a rough day, that much he could tell, but he knew he needed to wait for you to start the conversation.
With little hesitance, you shook your head. “All of this shit looks the same,” you huffed, voice breaking slightly as you gestured to the pile of magazines. You could feel your bottom lip begin to tremble as you scrunched your nose in an effort to stop the tears stinging the backs of your eyes from materializing. “And it’s all so fucking expensive, for just one day.”
To his credit, Bradley managed to keep a straight face. He knew you. He knew that it was uncharacteristic for you to get so worked up - just last week, you’d said the same thing, only it was accompanied by a laugh and a half-hearted plan to just elope in Vegas - and he did little to hide his frown as he stepped a little closer.
This wasn’t about the cost of the wedding or the similarity of the items and he knew that. So, he asked, “What happened, honey?”
With a sigh, you folded your arms over your chest and shook your head. “My mom called. She wanted to know what color palette we were hoping to use and if I’d given bridesmaids any thought. If I hadn’t, she was going to suggest my cousins. Then, she asked about the place settings and flowers and dinner. There’s so fucking much involved in planning a fucking wedding and it all just looks the same and she keeps asking, even though I’ve told her I’ve got it a thousand times.”
When you announced your engagement - well, when your mother noticed the ring you wore and stopped long enough to ask - she threw herself in headfirst. The constant conversations, more communication than you’d had in years, was taking its toll on you. That, in and of itself, was of no surprise to him. In fact, he’d seen it coming, even if he’d hoped he was wrong.
Still, Bradley knew that your relationship with your family was tenuous, at best.
The beginning of your relationship was slow, a little cautious, and the topic of family was avoided for as long as either of you could stand. He wasn’t sure how to bring up his parents and neither were you. However, your story came a little later than his.
Nearly a year into your relationship, you explained why you were so reluctant to tell him about your past.
If Bradley said any of it was a surprise, he would’ve been lying. He’d figured it out - as much as he could without being given specifics - but it wasn’t any easier to hear when you finally told him. Your mother, while physically present, was distant and difficult. She’d been married a half dozen times and each relationship seemed worse than the last. There was a myriad of mental illnesses and other concerns, none of which she sought help for, and Bradley was stunned at how little she seemed to care for you.
While hearing about your relationship with her was tough, your relationship with your father was worse. It was practically nonexistent and for good reason. You’d spared him the details but he understood why you cut him out of your life.
As difficult as it was, growing into adulthood without his parents - whom he loved beyond words - Bradley knew he was lucky to have had the parents he did. They loved one another fiercely and him even more. While he would give anything just to see them one more time, he was able to understand that not everyone was so fortunate. His heart ached that you were one of the unlucky ones, especially because, given the circumstances, you’d grown into one of the best people he’d ever met.
Since announcing your engagement, he’d been able to see what an interaction with your mother did to you - what she was like, how difficult she could be. This, however, felt different. So, he waited a beat and ventured a step further into the kitchen before asking, “What else happened?”
Bradley watched as you swallowed, blinked a little too fast to hide the emotion, and leaned back against the counter. For a moment, you chewed the inside of your cheek as you willed yourself not to cry. “My mom gave the other person responsible for my existence my phone number.”
That was the thing he’d been afraid of. While Bradley - and everyone else who knew the story of your father - understood why you cut him out of your life, your mother refused to see reason. It was only a matter of time before she did something like this but, still, he’d hoped this day would never come. “Shit.” He sighed, the sound quiet, as he leaned against the counter beside you and tipped his head to glance at you. “Did he call?”
“Mm.” You heaved a heavy sigh but kept your eyes on the tile floor instead of glancing at him. You knew that if you did, the tears would start and you would be rendered speechless. “I didn’t answer the first time for obvious reasons, but he annoyed my mom so much that she guilt tripped me into answering. She called after he did, well, four times while I was on the phone with him, and I snapped at her because he was a fucking dick, as per usual. Now, she’s pissed at me and he said he’d call back in a few days.”
There was little Bradley could say that would help - he knew that this wasn’t the moment for practical solutions or encouragement - so, he remained quiet and allowed you space to release everything you were feeling.
“I just…” With a harsh exhale, you shook your head and lifted a hand to wipe your eyes. “He calls and he asks what the weather’s like here, how I like my new job, if I like California better than Virginia, what you’re like. He’s pieced together my life from other people and he asks me these questions like he knows anything about me, like he’s entitled to know anything about me. All the while, he completely glosses over the fact that I spent the majority of my teens and early twenties completely afraid of other people because of him. He glosses over the fact that I hate every memory of my childhood, what memories I do have, because of him. He glosses over the fact that even though I know people love me, I still question it because of all the times he told me no one ever would. He glosses over the pain he caused because he feels entitled to a relationship and I know he’s only doing it because his time is almost up and he doesn’t want to die alone.”
Bradley remained quiet, gaze soft and so fucking heartbroken that you couldn’t stand to look at him as you shook your head. He stood still by your side, completely aware that you would want physical comfort but only after you’d gotten what you wanted to say out.
“That’s such a shitty thing to say and to feel, I know, and I hate it. But… Fuck, he asked when the wedding is and when he should be here, what color tie he needs to walk me down the aisle. He talked about not being able to walk very far anymore but said he’d do it, just to get me there, and it’s all such fucking bullshit! I don’t care if he really wants to make amends. It’s been years. He destroyed my life and he doesn’t get to do this shit, just because the end is near. I want an apology. I want an acknowledgment that he hurt me, physically and mentally, and then I want him to fuck off. I don’t want a relationship. He’s not invited to this wedding and I’ll be damned if my mom guilts me into having him or brings him herself. I don’t want either of them here, honestly. I love you and I’m so excited to be your wife. I just don’t want the best day of my life to be spent afraid of my fucking parents.”
When silence settled over the house, disturbed only by your uneven breathing, Bradley closed the distance he’d left between you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest, pressed as close as he could get you, and sighed as you wrapped your arms around his waist and gripped the t-shirt he wore. 
The way you shook in his arms made his heart break. He’d been toying with the idea of offering to elope since asking you to marry him - neither of you cared that much about the wedding itself; his parents had a small wedding, limited to their closest friends and family, and that was what you’d both wanted. Now that he knew the headache an actual wedding would entail, Bradley knew what needed to be done.
“Forget the wedding.” Bradley felt you tense, if only for a moment, before you lifted your head to glance at him. There was a confusion there, a little bit of hurt, and he was quick to shake his head. “Forget the actual wedding. Let’s just elope.”
“Bradley.”
Bradley moved his hands to cup your cheeks, touch soft as he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m serious, honey,” he declared, eyes searching yours. “No day is worth feeling like this. All I want is to be your husband. We can have a party later, invite our friends. The wedding can just be us, though. No fancy clothes, no stupid place settings, no monogramed napkins, no one to ruin the day. We can take a road trip, go to Vegas and get married by Elvis. All that matters is that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together.”
There was a moment of silence, a beat in which the weight of the world seemed to melt from your shoulders, before you frowned. “What about Mav, Penny, the others?”
“They can come, if they want,” Bradley offered, shrugging slightly, though you knew how important it was to him that Maverick and the others were a part of the day. “If you want them there. But we’re the only ones who have to be there."
“I want them there,” you assured him, “if they want to come, I’d love for them to be there.” The entire group had become as much of a family to you as they were to Bradley and you could’t imagine your wedding day without them. 
Bradley nodded, pleased with the outcome of the conversation, before he smiled. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Marrying my best friend in Vegas, I hope.”
With a laugh, Bradley returned his arms to your shoulders and pulled you into another embrace. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” He ducked his head, just enough to press his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss, before he pressed his forehead to yours. “You wanna call Phoenix while I call Mav and Hangman, rally the troops?”
“I love you a lot, Bradshaw. You know that, right?”
“I sure hope so. It’d make this whole thing kinda awkward if you didn’t,” he teased, grinning when you rolled your eyes fondly. 
Moments like that, little things that Bradley did to make you smile when you felt your worst, made you realize that if you only got one thing right, it was choosing Bradley. 
In the end, he was right. The wedding itself didn’t matter. No place settings, monogrammed napkins, or fancy outfits were were important enough for either of you to lose sleep over. The only thing that mattered was that you loved one another and wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. The people that mattered would be there - physically and in spirit - and, at the end of the day, you were just happy to have fallen in love with someone who loved you back just as much.
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Author’s Note: The next fic I write will be light, I swear. Anyway, this won’t be everyone’s thing and that’s fine. I kinda want to write the elopement now, though. Anyway. Happy Monday.
Taglist: @lulu-noodles​, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​, @withakindheartx​, @ssprayberrythings​, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath​, @alexparkxr​, @hangmandruigandmav​, @alexxavicry​, @calicokel, @jaymum​, @dracosluvbot​
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thefairygodmonster · 11 months
Text
I have a tricky relationship with the idea of “finish” when it comes to my art. Something Ive been trying to change so that art is healthier and more fun for me.
See, “finished” historically for me has always meant inked, colored, and rendered, preferably with decent lighting, something clean. HOWEVER, this definition does not vibe AT ALL with how I art. Past experiences have made it hard to break away from that academic approach. This sense that art needs to be made in a certain order and that all the steps need to be filled out for it to be complete. Its like filling out a form. You cant turn it in until all the boxes are ticked. Thats so inorganic for me though.
Id like to use pooka to snap out of it. I have all these fun rough drawings Id LOVE to get on paper and in color. That idea of the “nice paper” is messin with me though, bringin up old outdated thoughts of “dont mess up this is the final.” But nah. Art doesnt have to be like that.
Im messy, I love mess. I love my sketchy energetic lines full of personality and emotion. I dont wanna downplay that with my own hangup about art bein this or that. And if I mess up, I can work with it or do it again and better! Thats whats fun about it is just that repetition till it finally clicks.
Anyways this is jusy me ramblin to psyche myself up to finally break that mental fence stopping me from doing what I want to do. Time to make the sloppy stuff.
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buggy-samaaa · 3 days
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Caught, part 16
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Word count: 512
Content: NSFW — mdni, gender neutral reader, no y/n, second person POV, voyeurism, anal, masturbation, misuse of devil’s fruit powers, man musk, pillow humping, auralism, degradation
Tag list: @hey-august, @bbnbhm, @genius---jester, @lostfirefly, @ane5e
——
You were perusing the stationery store, running a finger along the spines of the different decorative sketchbooks you could freely choose from with the money Buggy had gifted you. You were excited to pick from the nicer selection for once.
The two you chose were beautifully leatherbound with high quality, thick pages. There turned out to be a sale, so you ended up with 200 berry leftover. You used it to buy a nice pen for Buggy as thanks for his kind gesture.
After leaving the store, you decided to scout out a location for the usual Monday night party. The circus would be packing up by next week to move on to a different locale, so you thought it’d be a good idea to party somewhere new on the island and enjoy it in a last hurrah. You explored the area near the docks and found a beachfront bar with cheap booze and a menu full of greasy food. Perfect! You made your way back to the ship to propose the idea to Buggy.
Meanwhile, Buggy was getting dressed, reeling with guilt over going through your private drawings, wondering how he’d face you again. He definitely wasn’t ready to see your smiling face the moment he left his room.
“Hey, Buggy,” you said cheerfully, excited to call him by his name rather than his title. “I have a great idea for tonight.”
“O-Oh, yeah?” he said, leaning back against his door. It wasn’t shut all the way, yet, so he fell backward and caught himself, then closed the door and leaned against it again, looking supremely awkward. He cleared his throat. “Uh… what is it?”
You told him about the bar you found and how it would be perfect for the party.
“Right, the party,” Buggy replied, distracted by his thoughts.
“You alright? You look a little sweaty. You’re not feeling nauseated again, are you?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Just, uh, trying to think of what I’ll wear,” he lied, “since we’ll be going onshore. Might want to dress up, you know?”
“Great, so you’re okay going to that bar! Awesome, I think it’ll be a lot of fun. Oh, before I forget, I got you this,” you said, fishing into your bag and pulling out a rectangular box with the pen you got for him. He opened the box.
“Hey… this is nice,” he said with a smile. The pen was made of red and white wood, with silver ink.
“I thought you could sign autographs with it,” you explained brightly. “Thank you for the sketchbooks, by the way.”
Buggy winced inwardly at the word sketchbooks, and his smile dropped. He put the pen back in its box. “Yeah, don’t… don’t mention it,” he said quietly. “I, um. I better change.”
“Sure, I will, too! And I’ll spread the word about where we’re going.” You waved goodbye and caught up with a few crewmates to tell them about the beach, asking them to pass it on.
Buggy re-entered his room and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
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crownedtargaryen · 1 year
Note
ahhh yay!!
i would like to request something for modern!bran if that’s okay🙏🏻
i was thinking maybe modern!bran with goth reader?
like just headcanons or an imagine, whatever you’d like
you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to :)
lipstick. modern!bran headcanons
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MASTERLIST pairing: modern!bran x goth!reader (a/n): I'm so sorry this is so short! Being goth has a lot of different types in that aesthetic, so I tried to generalize and keep it as unspecific as I could! (this Bran goes with this headcanon post I did of him) all notes are appreciated. tag list: @thethreeeyed-raven @howyouloveyourdragon @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @clairacassidy @ad-astra-again @its-actually-minicika
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SFW
• Bran loves you so much
• he ADORES when you sit on his lap and you do his makeup
• though, he's SUUUCH a pain to put makeup on
• he's always laughing and moving, trying to lean in and kiss you
• you have to yell at him, giving him a small smack as he cackles
• "what? can I not have a kiss?" he'll feign innocence that'll make you roll your eyes
• black cat and golden retriever
• he loves letting you dress him up in gothic themed clothing, so proud of any and all outfits you give him
• posts pics of you. over dressed gothic partner with the underdressed basic gamer
• he loves to bring you on his streams, the chat LOVVVES you
• he'll do "partner picks my aesthetic" streams with you, just adoring how excited you get in contrast to your darker more standoffish look
• def looks a bit strange seeing you side by side, but he doesn't care. ur his pfp on EVERYTHING and loves the way you present yourself
• def been called a discord mod with his kitten which has plagued your day to day life where he will jokingly call you kitten
• "that's a lot of talk for my discord kitten," he'll tease, knowing how frustrated it makes you.
does NOT shut up about how he wants to do beastboy x raven
ORR BATMAN X CAT WOMAN he’s OBSESSEDDD
def will call you emo for your aesthetic, laughs so hard when you’re get a bit angry with him
“hey! don’t be mad, maybe i like emos.” he’ll coo, just making you huff then kiss him to shut him up
def will let your paint his nails shades of black and grey, wears that shit with pride
LOVES it when you put on dark lipstick and kiss all over his face. he’s done that smudged lipstick tiktok so many times 👀
even though you’re the more intimidating outer shell of the relationship, bro will fight god for you
someone says shit about your aesthetic, calls you emo or says something harsh, he’s ON IT.
only he’s allowed to poke fun at his partner. someone says shit?
lets just say he’s almost killed a few people
forces you to teach him how to use a wax seal
he’ll nag you for hours, and you finally teach him and he’s over the moon
then one day, he’ll show up with a parchment letter that he’s tea stained for you. you honestly don’t believe it at first
bran didn’t SEEM like the type to do this, but gods he DID IT HE WROTE YOU A GOTHIC PARCHMENT LETTER QUILL AND INK AND EVERYTHING??!!
He LIVES to make you smile with gifts like that
constantly bugging you about what new clothes or shoes you want, what jewelry you may like, what antique gothic trinkets you think are beautiful
then within days they’re in ur hands and you just are like “oh.”
HE LOOOVES taking you to museums of antique medieval gothic resorts
he loves to hear you talk about them, grinning at your excitement and passions and how beautiful you look when you talk so much you run out of breath and have to sharply inhale before continuing
after taking you to the museum he’ll take you on a romantic moonlit picnic with only candles he brought and distant street lights illuminating you both
and he’ll softly go
“i love you…” pause. “even though you’re kind of emo.” then break into a cackle and beg you not to get up and leave
NSFW
• absolutely loves how your black makeup runs down your face when he tails the fuck out of you
• he loves the sight of your hair scattered across the bed as he pins you down, mascara running down your cheeks as you cry in pleasure
• he loves when you have dark lipstick on and kiss all over his body. gladly takes pictures of it and posts it on his private twitter
• usually after sex his face is covered in dark lipstick smudged over his swollen lips and flushed cheeks
• he loves ripping your dark thigh highs apart, immediately delving in your goods with the thin cloth RIPPED APART so easily.
• sometimes gets frustrated because of the layers to your outfits
• he's a switch, loves when you dom him and leave him a begging crying mess with lipstick marks on his thighs and hardened buds on his chest
will never ever stop joking about “you love dark things? let me make some dark ass marks on that pretty little neck.” while he growls and pulls you onto his lap with a cheeky grin
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tiny-vermin · 1 month
Note
I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜
hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")
so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too
there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there
anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said
i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut
i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways
the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though
jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)
beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did
veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.
yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways
im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself
im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)
edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah
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strangersatellites · 1 year
Text
pride, envy, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3
Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)
wrath (noun): uncontrolled feelings of anger, rage, and even hatred. wrath often reveals itself in the wish to seek vengeance. in its purest form, wrath presents with injury, violence, and hate
cw: rough sex, unhealthy relationships, blood, unsafe sex, choking, slapping, dacryphilia, angst (????) on accident, probably more tbh they genuinely fucking hate each other in this universe
This thing they’d had going on for three months now really had started off fun.
It started out soft and sweet. Stolen kisses in the back of The Hideout, quick, messy blowjobs in the backseat of Steve’s car, booty calls late at night when one or the other couldn’t sleep.
He can’t really identify what went wrong or when. All Steve knows is that the butterflies that he used to get when Eddie came around have turned and twisted into something sharp and heavy. Now when they’re within earshot of each other it's all biting insults and low-blows.
Somewhere along the line, the happiness that Eddie planted in his heart morphed into bitter resentment. But Steve’s nothing if not self-sacrificial, and the sex was too good to give up. Who is he to deny himself of the only good thing Eddie has left to offer him? So now he finds himself shoved into bar bathrooms and left high and dry, bruises mottled up and down his chest and dark bags under his eyes from a fitful sleep. Somehow he’s convinced himself it's better than nothing.
On nights where he can’t shake the memory of Eddie’s lips on his and his heart fluttering pretty and soft, he goes out. 
He goes out to a seedy club and he finds someone that he won’t remember the name of in the morning and he tries anything to clear his mind. Nothing’s ever as good.
Tonight he’s found himself a few beers deep and tracing water stains on the bar top at some place he’s never been just outside of town. He’d spent the last ten minutes or so talking to a guy that looked like he’d show him a good enough time. Dark, curly hair cut so that it flopped down into his face, pretty blue eyes that went a shade darker when they looked Steve over, and a shirt cut low enough that Steve could see ink swirl across his collarbones in vines and leaves. 
Steve thinks his name is Adam, but he wasn’t really listening and still really isn’t. He’s found that a few soft laughs and hums while guys talk is usually enough to feign interest long enough to coax them to a bathroom. 
This guy, Adam maybe, is about two seconds away from dragging him there himself, he can tell. It’s written all over his body language. Steve smiles his prettiest smile and flutters his eyelashes.
But as soon as he opens his mouth to purr something like “Do you want to get out of here?” There are strong arms snaking around his waist and teeth scraping at his throat and Steve’s blood runs hot in an instant. He’s well-accustomed to it no longer being a good sensation.
Steve shoves his elbow back with as much force as he can muster and it all goes red before he even hears his chuckle.
“Strike out again, Harrington? I made it just in time then, huh sweetheart,” Eddie coos in a tone dripping with condescension.
He’s on his feet and shoving at Eddie’s chest with enough force he knows it’ll bruise, sees it knock the wind out of him a bit. Gets right up in his face and would do anything to rip that self-satisfied smirk right off of it.
“You miserable fucking prick,” he spits, uncaring of the way Eddie flinches back the tiniest bit. “I was not striking out, and I never am! And yet here you come acting like you’re saving some damsel in distress when it’s you crawling back to me. Every. Single. Time,” he punctuates with jabs to his chest. 
Eddie’s smile doesn’t leave as he huffs a laugh. His tongue swipes across sharp, sharp teeth and he leers at Steve with narrowed eyes. Predatory in a way Steve liked once upon a time but now makes him want to punch out his teeth. He’s got his hands in his pockets and he looks entirely too comfortable with the fact that he just ruined Steve’s night. Again.
“God, sweetheart. You’re so wound up,” he whispers, face pinching up in faux concern. He brings his hands up to smooth down Steve’s biceps and digs his fingers in tight enough that he doesn’t budge with Steve’s attempts at shaking him off. “Tell me. When was the last time someone fucked you good enough that you remembered his name the next morning, now be honest.” He leans in close and that smirk is back and Steve hates it. “You can say it was me, honey. It’ll be our little secret.” 
And Steve’s seeing red again because he’s right. 
It was him. It’s always him and probably always will be. 
He gets back up in his space once more and makes sure he’s looking at his eyes when he whispers a sharp “Fuck. You.”
And it's only for a split second but he swears he sees hurt flash through brown eyes. Gone in an instant and replaced with a real, raw indifference that Steve thinks might be worse. 
He feels a hand at the back of his neck and Eddie’s lips brush his ear. 
“Yours or mine?”
And it was always going to go like this. Steve’s not under any illusions. Knew this time wouldn’t be different. But it still stings the way that he knows in an alternate universe that question might’ve been accompanied with giggles and a kiss. 
But then he remembers the way that Eddie looked so proud when Steve first said he hated him and the rage is back ten-fold.
He turns on his heel and knows he’s being followed.
“Yours. Don’t want you in my fucking house.”
*****
Steve’s got Eddie’s wrists pinned to the wall above his head and his teeth raking down his neck. Wants to leave a mark. A memory. 
He hears Eddie gasp as Steve’s hips shove hard against his own and he shoves harder in retaliation.
“Remember when you used to kiss me?” Steve asks, Eddie’s breath against his face enough to pull some bricks from the walls he’s spent months building.
He feels more than hears Eddie’s hum. Feels his knee come up to shove him backwards until he’s the one pressed against the wall, face turned sideways and arms pinned behind his back.
“Yeah sweetheart.” He leans in to bite at Steve’s ear and make him hiss.
Steve’s grinning, ugly and mean when he grits out “Worst decision of my fucking life.”
But now Eddie’s the one smirking, he can hear it when he speaks. “Mine too. Liked my life a lot better when I didn’t know what you taste like.”
Steve aims for the shin when he bucks a foot backwards, nails it if Eddie’s grunt is anything to go by. He spins around and shoves at Eddie hard enough to send them both to the floor, grateful for a second the fact that his muscle mass makes it easy to manhandle his way into what he wants. 
He laughs, loud and fake. “Now see, that I just don’t believe, Eddie.” He’s got his eyebrows raised high and pout on his lips and he knows what’s coming and he relaxes into it.
And yeah maybe Steve’s strong, but Eddie knows him. Knows when his guard is down. He gets his knees up around Steve’s hips and flips them over, Steve’s back against the ground and there’s the fury Steve’s been after. Been trying to bring it out all night.
Eddie’s got a ringed hand pressed tight against Steve’s throat when he finally lets himself feel. Feel good the way only Eddie can make him. Lets the fight drain out of him as his vision goes spotty. Eddie’s spitting words in his face, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” and saliva into his mouth and it’s so bad-good.
His next breath is heaving as he comes back down and Eddie’s already standing and walking away. 
“Get up. I don’t have all night.”
And now that he’s got Eddie mad, got him fired up, he knows he can let himself go. Lets himself fall even though he knows Eddie’s not going to catch him. Thinks it's worth it until it's not. Until tomorrow when he remembers the way he and Eddie won’t look at each other when their friends are around. They way they don’t talk.
Because this is how it's always going to go. He’s going to let Eddie rile him up, make his sharp, heavy butterflies flutter out in words he thinks he doesn’t really mean. He’s going to push and push and push until Eddie breaks. And even though he started it, Eddie always will. Break, that is. He’ll break out of his self-assured, indifferent asshole persona and he’ll turn into something real and mean. Someone that hates Steve back. 
Steve thinks it shouldn’t feel as good as it does.
There’s nothing gentle about the way Eddie stretches him open. The way he smacks the inside of Steve’s thigh hard enough it leaves a welt the shape of his hand. 
He’s got two fingers inside him and Steve feels so good and he can’t help but talk. Head thrown back, words fall from his lips between desperate moans. 
“Hate you so fucking much.”
A smack to his ass and a dejected huff. 
“Yeah. I know you do sweetheart."
Steve groans in annoyance but his back arches all the same.
“Hate it when you call me that.”
And he’s not looking but he knows Eddie is rolling his eyes. 
“I know you do, baby.”
And there’s tears pricking at the back of his eyes because sure he really does hate this man. Really does think he’d have been better off never meeting him. But all he can hear when Eddie calls him “baby” is the way he used to say it through laughter against his skin.
He knows he’s pouting but he thinks he deserves it with the bitter memories he’s fighting away. “Hate that even worse.”
Eddie pulls his fingers out and crawls up his body to squeeze at his cheeks until he fishmouths.
“I know. Now shut up and stop crying. You wanted me mean and you’ve fucking got it baby.”
Steve gasps high in his throat when Eddie grabs him by his hips and flips him onto his belly and something about this flavor of anger Eddie’s wearing sets Steve off again. But this time his anger isn’t a facade. It's raw and real and it's hurt that got brushed aside and became something else entirely.
“Hate what we could’ve been. Hate that I hate you.” He says into a pillow.
He hears Eddie groan and not in a good way. In the way he does when he’s annoyed. He feels his weight lay over his back and his hand on the inside of his thigh yanking upward and open.
“Well I hate that you don’t know when to stop talking." He grits out and the pressure as he presses inside Steve is enough to make him white out.
By the time he builds up a bruising rhythm, punching Steve’s breath out of him on every thrust, he’s talking again.
“Could’ve given you everything you wanted sweetheart,” and his tone is so patronizing, “But it just wasn’t fucking enough was it?”
And Steve’s barely holding on to his consciousness through the pressure deep in his guts and the hand pressing the back of his neck down, down, down. But he’s still got enough wherewithal that that strikes a chord.
Because no, having Eddie behind closed doors wasn’t enough. And Eddie knows that. He knows how that hurt him and chooses to use it against him anyway.
His voice is muffled into the pillow and broken up by whimpers and whines but he speaks anyway.
“Well it wasn’t my– shit, so good. Wasn’t my pride that got in the way.”
Eddie’s hips slow to a deep grind and freeze pressed to the hilt.
The hand at the back of Steve’s neck slides to the front and yanks him up on his knees, pressed against Eddie’s chest.
His chest is heaving where its plastered to Steve’s back and his voice rumbles through them both.
“Maybe not. But it was you that kept your mouth shut and made it my fault.”
Steve goes to argue but gets cut off by the sharp stinging of teeth breaking the skin against his shoulder blade. His breath goes ragged on a shriek and his vision whites out around the edges. Eddie’s shoving him back down, ass-up and face smushed sideways. His hand slips up and pries his mouth wide open and shoves in hard, stopping anything he could possibly say. Steve’s eyes are wide where he’s staring, gone glassy and wet.
“And it looks like now you don’t know how to do that, do you baby?” He asks.
And he’s got his fingers down his throat and his dick shoved deep.
There’s blood dripping from his teeth in that sharp, bitter smile. And he’s so pretty. And Steve hates him.
He chokes around his fingers on a sob as Eddie picks up his pace again.
Hates that it feels so good.
Hates that he comes back for this.
Hates that Eddie’s right.
Because maybe he can’t pinpoint when or where things went south, but he knows it has everything to do with the way he started needing more and not asking for it. Knows Eddie was letting him figure it out on his own. And instead of just going for it, he knows he started blaming.
So maybe he does hate Eddie. Hates him for the way he didn’t push him when he knew he needed it. Hates that he still uses him like this. 
But he really hates himself. Because he could’ve had what he wanted but he didn’t take it.
(Hates that tomorrow he’ll forget this all again, too far in his head and in the feeling of Eddie taking what he wouldn’t give. He’ll forget it all and go back to hating him again.)
A sharp smack to the outside of his thigh brings him barreling back down into reality and it's Eddie’s words that send him hurdling into release.
“Here you fucking go again with the crying. God I hate that you’re so fucking pretty.”
Steve hates that that’s what does it for him. Hates that his crying is what does it for Eddie. Hates the way he’s filled up and will have to go home messy, the way Eddie pulls out of him and throws him his clothes.
He hears the flick of a lighter and Eddie’s heavy inhale from far away.
“I assume you can show yourself out.”
As Steve pulls his shirt over his head and wipes the tear tracks from his face he thinks “Yeah. This is why I hate him.”
And from the other side of the room Eddie thinks that if Steve would say half of the things that run through his mind with Eddie inside him, maybe they wouldn’t hate each other at all.
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