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#so this was a sort of 'just for me' drawing
mightaswelljxmp · 2 days
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hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….
you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.
let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…
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every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.
doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.
one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.
symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.
with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.
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and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.
literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.
the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.
now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.
it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.
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imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.
having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.
this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.
after all, y’know. form follows function.
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taichouu · 3 days
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Saw the leaks and all I could think about was Mic in a suit. Its 1 am and all I can think about is Mic in a suit. Happy Pride indeed.
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))
You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader
Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.
Credit to blueballsracing for the GIF
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Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.
You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.
Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.
Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.
However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.
Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.
“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.
You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.
“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.
Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.
And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.
Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.
When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.
“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.
“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.
“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.
“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.
“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.
“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.
“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.
Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.
“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.
“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.
But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.
There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.
“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.
You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.
So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.
Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.
“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.
“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.
“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.
“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.
He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.
“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.
“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!
“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.
“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.
“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.
“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.
“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.
“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.
“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.
“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.
“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.
“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.
“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.
Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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b14augrana · 2 days
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Hello , can I request barca x teen reader who loves to play prank and is the Clown of the team but is a very good player and Ballon d'or potential
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‘The Fool’
Beyond the jester of a girl that taunts her Barcelona teammates with endless pranks is a world class player that shines on the pitch
Barça Femení x teen!reader
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masterlist
Warnings: ✖️
A/N: thank you anon for the request! this is kinda messy and a bit short but i think it does the job. im sorry this took so long for me to write, i hope you like it 💝💝
“(Y/N), hijo de puta!” Mapi screams, looking up to see your head sticking out over the top of the shower cubicle, pouring shampoo on her head. For the last 10 minutes, she’s furiously been trying to wash all the shampoo out of her hair, but it just isn’t coming out. Now she realises why.
Mapi grumbles and finally rinses the last of the shampoo out of her hair, cursing you under her breath with the slightest of smiles. You skid out of the locker room, abandoning the shampoo bottle and laughing to yourself in the halls. You can hear Patri’s laughter ringing from the showers as well, and it makes you smile.
Clowning around is your love language… in a way. It’s your form of putting time and energy into something special. To you, laughter is something special, and if you didn’t love your teammates, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to give them something to enjoy.
It’s your natural personality. You’re unserious, always joking around and having fun, and it is only normal for someone your age. As a teenager, all you want to do is have fun while doing what you love most; playing football.
You‘re damn good at both of those things.
El Clásicos are your favourite matchups. Every season, you look forward to it. Since you bleed blaugrana in every shape and form, you feel like it’s your duty to give the Real Madrid back line something to worry about. You want to be the one to sort them out… for the 16th time. Literally.
When you aren’t troubling your teammates with tricks, you’re troubling defenders.
It‘s kinda your thing.
One through ball from Aitana is all it takes. Your legs feel detached from your body, your strikes at the ground uprooting the grass wherever you step.
And the open space ahead is basically beckoning you in to occupy the green void, which you do.
The space beyond is as much of a blessing to you as it is a curse to the likes of Rocio and Andres.
Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work. You aren’t being stalled, you’re being invited in. The more you threaten them with small feints and sharp movements that make them twitch, the closer they draw you in to the goal until…
That satisfying swish of the net follows the sound of your foot making hard contact with the ball.
Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work.
You’re good at your position. You take your game seriously. That’s what surprises everyone the most.
Off the field, you’re regarded as ‘el embaucadora’, the trickster. You’re always pulling pranks, making jokes, finding fun in everything or making it yourself.
Even on the field, you’re no less of a trickster, but it’s less of the pranks and more of your deceptive play style and ability to make defenders dance.
When you play, you perform. To you, any pitch lit up by lights is a place in which your playing becomes poetry with the opportunity to engrave itself in the essence of the stadium, becoming your legacy.
The whistle blows, and you’re off again. The ball finds you again and it feels so right at your feet that every moment feels like you’re on autopilot.
And it finds the goal too fast for you to enjoy, because before you know it you’re walking off the pitch feeling uncomfortably sweaty beyond the swell of victory in your heart.
Alexia looks at you from a distance, the hints of a smile visible on her face, because she knows where hypnotising flair like yours gets you.
Somewhere in France, perhaps?
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bigfatbimbo · 2 days
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Subtop Vox with a quiet partner. He's doing his absolute best, whining as he desperately tries to make them feel good too but isn't getting the reaction he needs so he starts tearing up because he thinks he's not doing good enough which is not only a hit to his ego but also makes him worry they're gonna leave him or something because he's apparently not good enough for them to be loud. Pathetic men beloved...
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a/n — I don’t think you wanted the reader to be this mean to Vox but um… I dunno. Also if you think this sounds similar to other works i’ve made, your right the writers block is crazy!!
warnings — dom reader, f!reader kinda, mommy is used once, subtop!Vox, NOT PROOFREAD, bimbo needs to sleep so bad.
summary — Vox fucks a quiet reader but gets incredibly insecure and fucking cries
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Being quiet during sex is such a way to fuck with Vox’s head. He’s used to drawing reactions from people, whether they’re on their knees worshipping him, or humiliating him on public television, he’s very good at provoking some kind of emotion.
So when he’s on top fucking into you, and you’re not moaning in pleasure and begging for more, he can’t help but take it to heart. He’d probably try to sweet talk you to get you in the mood, “I bet you like this, huh?” and then turning into “What..do I need to be faster?” “Why don’t you like this??”
To really leave a mark on his ego, you’d give him some sort of condescending response like, “Aw, It’s okay, you’re trying your best. Look if it’s really bothering you, I guess I could always pretend.”
His brows would furrow, trying to grit his teeth so he doesn’t whimper, “Fuck—kk you—“
But he doesn’t want you to pretend for the same reason he doesn’t just hypnotize you: he needs you to actually like it. Not for any moral reasons, don’t get him wrong, but because he needs to feed his ego, make himself feel needed and capable.
But how are you not reacting?? The speed his dick is jolting into you… the feeling on his dick… fuck, it’s getting hard to form a coherent thought. But there is one that stays. His body is almost overtaken by the euphoric feeling his getting from your tightness, if he’s in shambles, why aren’t you? Is he weak, not good enough, both?
Finally, he whines while rutting into you, desperately searching for any trace of validation from you. “W-what do you want? Pleas—zz—se, i’ll do anything— Should I go slower? Ah, I need—“
“You need mommy’s approval? Want me to tell you how good you’re doing?”
He’d whine and nod his head pathetically, chasing his feeling of pleasure despite the growing shame in his stomach.
Finally, you weren’t being so damn quiet, jesus, at least you were going to talk him through it.
”Then do better.”
You say it like it’s so obvious, and so final, to make matters worse you stopped talking after that, going back to your silent persona as you gaze up at him with little to no emotion.
It’d take a moment to sink in but he’d try, and fail, to cut the next whine short, before it dissolves into a choked sob. The only thing that could make this moment more humiliating for Vox is crying, but he can’t stop his eyes from filling with tears.
He was Vox, the Vox. You should be graveling, thanking him for wasting his time on you. But instead, you’ve made it apparent the sex was only good on his end, and fuck it was. Humiliating, yes, but that added so much to it.
He almost wanted to let a tear fall, to bait you out of your silence so you could once again degrade him. Was that too far? Was he just vulnerable and horny? Probably. But god, if the control switch didn’t fuck with his head.
He wondered if you thought he was a failure. Shit, a year rolled down in his screen, that was enough to let the flood gates loose. He didn’t mean for that to actually happen, but he slowed his pace so catch your reaction.
Your gaze, to his surprise, softened. Your thumb came up to his screen and wiped the water to the side, but staying on his cheek area.
“Oh honey, you’re not doing that bad. It does feel good.” Your sudden reassurance came as a surprise to Vox, who only could whine in response. You weren’t even being that nice, but that didn’t stop a bother tear from spilling over, and it certainly didn’t stop Vox’s hips from momentarily ceasing their jolting.
Then, your expression changes, “Did I say you could stop?”
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bcacstuff · 2 days
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Who's that Girl (part 2)
No, not the same chapter, there's still a chapter open from the past! One that we just found out as he (sort of) gave it away himself.
We go back to May 2023, he's in NYC for Love Again promo and was spotted (by me/us) at Jack's Wife Freda having lunch or whatever with an unidentified woman. Remember, green trousers, black top, sunglasses (keep that in mind)
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Back then I thought it might be a friend he knew for a long time, but I was wrong. I never gave her name (glad I didn't) as now with new information I know it wasn't the friend I thought it was....
Then a month later, in June, again in NYC for OL premiere we had this sighting of him leaving the hotel with an unidentified woman
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bit fuzzy as I zoomed in, but you surely remember the ankle tatttoo and the vans
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You might also remember the hair and the bag she's holding
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As it turns out now, it's one and the same woman we see here!^^
Also keep in mind, these pics/videos were not papped but found on IG or taken by fans! So no setup here.
Here's the proof this is the woman we're talking atbout:
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Very same clothes as in the Jack's wife Freda pic (green trousers, black top, sunnies. Bonus: vans and bag.
Fun fact, around the same time he followed Chronos Design on IG:
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You can draw your conclusions from that!^^
More, ankle tattoo and vans
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and bag and vans
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So who's that girl!
Lol, you gotta laugh as you can't make this up but her name is.... Lauren! 😛 (jaw drop here) whut?! Yes, but another Lauren 😉 not last weeks Lauren but last years Lauren (H)! 😂 Lo for friends 😉
Not a handler, not a long time friend but a very much a date! A date most likely via Raya, repeated after a month time.
How do we know, well.... the woman isn't that shy dating wise so to say. She has a podcast about... exactly that, dating... lol, quite revealing... 🙉
Most interesting part of one of the podcasts I found:
Yes... I couldn't help but.... yeah well...
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Anyway, more podcast if you want to listen for more...
youtube
Enjoy!
Questions you might have
So was he dating her? I do not have much doubts about that, the way she talks in those podcasts. Sure do not know what parts are about him, but sure do think some parts are about him.... just check out that last podcast about 'situationship'....
Was it serious? Again, listen to the podcast, there's your answer (no)
Is he still dating her? Don't think there has been anything going on after June last year. That said, he's still in touch with her as I said, he sort of gave things away by himself. (IYKYK)
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brainrot-of-a-thot · 2 days
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Hi mamaz, can you do a sick fic with sakura and reader is just spoiling the shit out of him.
high fever.
or, he’s sick and you won’t leave his side (he pretends it annoys him but it most definitely doesn’t), featuring: sakura haruka
a/n: omg yes yes sick fic sick fic my kryptonite!!! honestly babes when sakura fell sick in the manga and everyone took care of him i was like 🥹😭 for the next fucking day after it. it fuckin altered my brain chemistry I shit you not. tysm for delivering to me babes <3
c/w: blushy + bashful sakura (our favorite 😍), one-shot, sick fic, bantering, established relationship, subtle hurt/comfort, pure fluff, language (it’s me, c’mon.)
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“seriously, sakura, just open up — you need to eat.”
“don’ wanna,” sakura grumbled, voice croaky and wet and petulant. “there’s vegetables in there.”
you rolled your eyes with a fond sort of exasperation. “there’s not that many. you won’t even taste them.”
“bullshit,” sakura snorted, turning his face away slightly and scrunching his nose. “I can smell at least fourteen carrots from here.”
“one, you can’t smell shit right now, so don’t give me that.” you started flippantly, shoving the spoonful of soup towards his lips. “and two, there’s most certainly not fourteen carrots in here. maybe one, tops.”
sakura eyed the spoon and dodged it expertly, even with his sluggish, fever-weakened body. the more you tried to shove it into his mouth, the more sakura scrunched his nose, reminding you of a bristling, hissing cat backing away from a threat; and it was starting to morph from cute to irritating.
“for shit’s sake, sakura, just take a damn bite!” you finally snapped, dropping the spoon into the bowl in your lap. you glared at your sick boyfriend, who simply glared right back — though the harshness of his was dulled significantly by the flush on his face and snot dripping out of his nose. he looked so miserable, truthfully.
“I don’ need it.” sakura mumbled, words nasally and clipped. you couldn’t help the frown that pulled at your lips. it had taken you over half an hour just to placate sakura enough to let you stay, and maybe now you were pushing a bit too much — but you knew that if someone didn’t push, sakura would end up suffering through his sickness all on his own; that was just the type of person he was, and it was frustrating to no end.
frustrating, and incredibly, hauntingly sad — and it made you wonder just how many times he’d had to do that exact thing before you came into his life.
you let out a soft sigh and shuffled closer to sakura — the proximity allowed you to feel the heat radiating off his body and take notice of the trembling in his muscles. you scrunched your brows and reached forward with the intention of checking his temperature, fully expecting sakura to wrench away, but he held still; and when you flattened your palm across his forehead, sakura let out a heavy, almost relieved sigh and leaned into your hand subtly.
“ah… your hand… ‘s cold. feels… nice.”
your heart wrenched in your chest at the sight — sakura’s red face, clammy and twisted with discomfort, leaning into your hand and relaxing, as if it brought him the utmost relief — it was such a soft view, a vulnerable side of sakura that you hadn’t yet seen before.
sakura’s eyes were lidded when he slipped them over to you, hazy and nearly unfocused, as if all he could really see was your general form; it was worrying. sakura hadn’t been in the best shape when you’d first arrived, but at least he was coherent, and there was awareness in his eyes and movements — it was as if his body had made a drastic turn in the few seconds between your bantering.
“sakura, hey, can you focus on me?” you prodded gently yet urgently, leaning your face closer to examine his own. his eyes followed your movements, but they were still hazy — and by now, sakura would usually be wrenching away from your proximity with a mess of garbled words; even when sick. sakura’s lips only moved enough to draw in ragged breaths.
worry lanced through your chest and dropped your hand; only to receive a loud whine from sakura at the action. sakura’s head bobbed pathetically as he tried to chase your retreating hand.
“again…” sakura huffed, staring at you with those eyes. “please… can we just stay like that for awhile? your… your hand feels nice.”
your heart constricted in your chest, painfully. he was just too cute, too vulnerable — and when he looked at you like that, he knew you couldn’t resist.
you knew deep down that the best thing for you to do would be to wet a rag and press it against his forehead, force some food and meds into him and order him to get rest. but, again… his eyes. his vulnerability. his need.
it was too powerful for you to even consider the notion of telling him no; even if it would be the best course of action. so, with a defeated sigh you placed the bowl of soup onto the floor a few feet away from you and sidled up to sakura’s side.
“I’ll do it… but you have to lay down and get some rest, okay?” you said, softly, aiming for stern but failing hopelessly. sakura nodded in assent and breathed in a ragged, congested breath — he then surprised you by leaning down to rest his head against the meat of your thigh.
sakura’s head was now in your lap; you could feel the heat of his temple and cheek sear through your clothes, could feel the hot, most breaths dampen the fabric — you couldn’t help it. rather than place your hand back to his forehead like you promised, you instead threaded your fingers into his hair.
it was slightly matted and wet from sweat, but still held the soft quality. you could still smell the faint traces of floral shampoo from it. you stroked your fingers through the strands gently, heart racing in your chest. sakura was showing such vulnerability to you right now; to a degree he hadn’t before.
how could you not gush over him and smother him with everything he wants?
you reached around to cup sakura’s forehead with your other hand while your fingers continued caressing his scalp. sakura sighed deeply and nuzzled further into the meat of your thigh. his breathing, still ragged and nasally, was evening out and slowing as sleep caressed him. but before he could fully black out, there was one thing he needed to hear…
“you’re eating that soup when you wake up, sakura.”
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ps: sakura relentlessly uses his cuteness to his own advantage.
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spooky-pop · 24 hours
Note
What base shapes do you keep in mind while drawing, im absolutely terrible at getting proportions right?
Ok apologies in advance because I am NOT great at explaining things.
When I start drawing any character I ALWAYS start with shapes. I feel it's important to get familiar with your subject before you draw it and with enough practice it'll start sticking in your brain. There is no harm grabbing renders or screencaps and tracing over them to get an idea of shapes! I absolutely did a lot of studies that way before I got comfy drawing trolls. Breaking things down to their basic form is important, it helps you visualize shape and volume! So when I draw Trolls, it's a lot of round shapes, bean shapes, and triangles. I made an example with this image of Poppy:
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Adding in guidelines is important because it can help you figure out placement for facial features and what direction you'll be drawing them. This is an example of how my starter sketches would look, with similar shapes to this! I just start slapping down shapes and worry about the details much later. I also almost ALWAYS draw this eye mask because it really helps me figure out eye and brow placement.
Now, I have another breakdown but this time with my own rough sketch of Darcey:
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Again, more shapes to figure out form. And I sort of make this "mitten" shape to block out hands. You can make edits from this point on to get proportions and perspectives right.
But yeah, this is the shortest simplest explanation I can give regarding the beginning of my process. Understanding and grasping volume is a big thing for me!
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mononijikayu · 2 days
Text
toothbrush — nanami kento.
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At times, Kento thought that you should just sleep here, rest here until you had enough rest. The idea of waking up next to you, of starting his day with your presence beside him, filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted to cook you breakfast, to share a leisurely morning with you as the sun rose, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. The simple pleasure of a shared meal, of casual conversation over coffee, seemed incredibly precious.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!
WARNING/S: alternate universe - canon convergence, ceo! nanami, rated 18 and above, explicit content, strangers to lovers, one night stand, p to v sex, lirting, seduction, romance, humor, fluff, comfort/no hurt, mention of alchohol, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, depiction of drinking and alcoholic drinks;
LISTEN: toothbrush by dnce
NOTE: i chose the youtube lyric video of the song because that's how i imagine reader leaving nanami and the thoughts of the song is just nanami waking up to you leaving. the ending of in bed together, that's how the ending is. anyway, just one mroe and side 700 is going to be complete and i can write ashes of love again. thank you for being patient with me!!! i love you~
masterlist
kayu's playlist — side 700;
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HE REALLY DIDN’T DO THIS MUCH. Nanami Kento sat at the corner of the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. He untied the knots of his tie, loosening it slightly as he savored the quiet moments, the noise of the world fading into the background, replaced by the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. It was a rare evening where he allowed himself to unwind, to escape the relentless demands of being a CEO.
He sighed, taking another sip of his drink, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. The bar was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could forget about the spreadsheets, board meetings, and the constant pressure of making decisions. Here, he could just be Kento, not Nanami Kento, the powerful executive.
You slid onto the barstool beside him, your presence drawing his attention. He glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than usual. There was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him want to know more. Your eyes met, and a smile played on your lips as you introduced yourself.
"Hi, it’s nice to meet you," you said, extending your hand with a warm smile.
Kento looked up from his drink, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a brief moment of hesitation before he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "Kento," he replied, his voice smooth and deep. "Nice to meet you."
The simple exchange seemed to spark an immediate connection, a current of electricity passing between you. His eyes lingered on yours, and you noticed the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slid onto the barstool next to him, feeling an inexplicable ease in his presence.
"I haven't seen you here before," you remarked, trying to ease into the conversation. "Do you come here often?"
Kento chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, not really. Just needed a break from the usual routine. How about you?"
You nodded, swirling the drink in your glass. "It's one of my favorite spots. There's something comforting about the atmosphere here. It's a nice escape."
He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "I can see that. Sometimes, it's good to step away from everything, find a place where you can just... breathe."
You smiled, appreciating his sentiment. "Exactly. So, what do you do when you're not finding solace in dimly lit bars?"
He leaned back slightly, a small sigh escaping his lips. "I run a company. CEO life isn't exactly a walk in the park."
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "A CEO, huh? That's impressive. Must be pretty demanding."
"It is," he admitted, his eyes meeting yours again. "But tonight, I'm just Kento. No titles, no responsibilities. Just... me."
There was a vulnerability in his words that caught you off guard, making you see him in a new light. "Well, Kento, it's just nice to know we feel the same."
The conversation flowed effortlessly from that point, each of you peeling back layers of your lives. You talked about your passions, your dreams, and the little things that made life worth living. He listened intently, his eyes never straying from yours, as if he was genuinely interested in every word you said.
As the night wore on, the bar around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world. The flirtation became more pronounced, the touches more lingering. When your fingers brushed against his while reaching for your glass, a spark ignited, sending a thrill down your spine.
"It's nice, drinking here beside you," Nanami confessed, his voice low and sincere. 
“It was nice to have you with me too.” You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered something that made him smile—a rare and genuine smile. 
“I should say the same thing.” He smiles at you, holding the rim of his own glass. “You make me feel like something nice after a long day.”
"Oh, you have no idea how good it is, to know you.." you said, your voice a little softer, "I didn't expect to have such a good time tonight. It is…rare. To find someone interesting.”
"Neither did I." Kento replied, his gaze intense. "But I'm glad I came. Meeting you... it feels like a breath of fresh air."
The sincerity in his words touched you deeply, and you found yourself leaning closer, drawn to him in a way that felt both exciting and inevitable. "Do you want to get out of here?" you asked, your heart racing.
His eyes darkened with desire, a smile tugging at his lips. "I thought you'd never ask."
The walk to his place was filled with anticipation, your fingers brushing against each other as you navigated the quiet streets. When you finally reached his apartment, he opened the door and led you inside, the atmosphere charged with unspoken promise.
The rest of your time sober was blurred into a haze of shared stories, laughter, and fleeting touches. Eventually, he brought out some wine. And another one. And it was all tipsy from then. The decision was made in a heartbeat, a shared understanding passing between you. You wanted to experience ecstasy. You could see it in each other’s eyes, trembling with want. With relief. With desire.
You couldn’t help it, but you were a wanton little thing. It was just what Kento needed. It was the way you were pushing and pulling —- arching your back at the perfect angles, ripping his back apart with your sharp bright, colorful nails with his own flesh and blood. He wanted to drown in each harmony of pleasure from your lips. It felt like the song of heaven to him, calling out to him as he dug deeper and deeper towards the crevices of your pleasures. 
The things that followed was a whirlwind of passion and intimacy, a connection that felt both new and familiar. You let him take you to bed, one kiss pulling you harder than gravity in itself. You found yourselves lost in each other’s magnetic pull, exploring every inch of skin, every whispered word. When you finally fell asleep, it was in his arms, feeling a sense of belonging that was as unexpected as it was welcome.
The heat burned off your skin, as flesh echoed on flesh with passionate warmth. You didn’t notice it but you couldn’t help but let your heels dig into the center of his lower back, moaning against him. He liked it a lot, that you were doing all you could to pull him closer, deeper — more of him into you. It was a greedy little desire, but he couldn’t help but let his throat rumble with approval, feeling your tender hands press harshly against the depths of his own hot skin. You were such a little thing, fitting in the confines of his body’s wholeness. 
But Kento thinks it still isn't enough for him. But somehow, it was all he wanted. At times it was just right. And all at once, it's too much to bear. It was a semblance of emotions, of pleasures that he had never explored before. There was so much depth to fucking you. Layers and layers to how you suck him in, to how you take him in. To how your cunt just lets him make a home inside of you. To mold your womb to his shape. And you egg him on, over and over with your delicious incoherent pleasure–ridden screams. 
Your pretty doe eyes are dangling across the space as he switches position, pulling your legs just right up the small of his back. You yelp as he enters you deeper. He settled himself, kneeling on the bed, and leaned forward. You whimper, your eye rolling back further as you become more fucked out.  He couldn’t help but be pleased with himself. There was nothing that you can think about. Nothing else mattered, other than him and this pleasure.
The weight of him was crushing you whole, as though there was nothing but that pleasurable oblivion. He was quite a muscular man, after all. Yet you couldn’t care much, despite the fact that he was heavy on top of you. Or the fact that it feels as though he's going to spur you out of air, suffocating you with pleasure. You were a masochist in a sense. You told him that. You want him to crush you. And each moan begging him to go faster, to push deeper over and over —- it confirms it all.
Kento allows his lips to thank you with tender blossoms against your flesh. But in that moment, he buries his head against your jaw, his ragged raspy moans rapidly marking every inch of skin with his brutal, hot kisses. One after another, it was an experience. Your neck with his brutal kiss of his teeth, leaving metallic essence against his lips as you wail against him. You feel a trail of sweat pouring out with your sweet tears, his hot breath making your skin burn harder than ever before. 
You couldn’t see straight anymore. But you didn’t care. Not even when your eyes roll back inside your head, as he pistons into you harder and harder. His grip on you gets tighter and tighter as your toes slowly curl against the small of his back. Drool falls against the side of your lips as you let Kento’s hands rest against the small of your ass, gripping as tightly as he could. Your breath gets stuck in your already dry throat. You were close again. You don’t know how many times this man has made you cum. But you know that he was too good. It was all too good.
The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that leaves you gasping for air. Every thrust, every movement pushes you closer to the edge, and you cling to him as if he's the only thing grounding you. The world outside ceases to exist; it's just you and him, lost in this moment of raw passion 
Your nails dig into his back once more, leaving traced marks that he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, the way his breath hitches over and over again and his grip tightens on you tells you he likes it, to keep doing it. He liked being marked by you. And he hopes there’s more times like this. He hopes he can keep getting marked by you like this. His rhythm never falters, each roll of his hips sending waves of pleasure through your body, making you shudder and moan his name.
"Kento," you gasp, your voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. He responds with a low growl, his lips finding your ear, whispering words that send shivers down your spine. “‘bout to c-come…oh! oh! m-more….more! Please!”
His eyes looked at you, dark with pleasure. “Then come, honey. Let me feel you sweeten my cock like that.”
You're teetering on the brink, the intensity building until it feels like you might burst. His pace quickens, and you feel the tension coil inside you, ready to snap. With one final, powerful thrust, you come undone, your body convulsing in his arms as you cry out in pleasure.
He follows soon after, his body tensing before he collapses on top of you, both of you spent and breathless.  You could feel the heat of his cum overflow inside of you. There was too much. And he doesn’t yet pull out. And you didn’t want him to, still locking your legs against the edge of his back. For a moment, you lie there in a tangled mess of limbs, the only sound in the room your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts.
Finally, he lifts his head, his brown eyes meeting yours. There's a softness there, a look that tells you this was more than just a physical connection. You smiled exhaustedly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, and he returned the gesture, his fingers gently caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.
"You're incredible." he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You smile against his mouth, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment and everything to do with the man holding you. “Truly.”
As you both drift off to sleep, still wrapped in each other's arms, you know this is just the beginning of something extraordinary.
He didn’t think he’d wake up alone. The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. He groaned quietly, shifting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the bright echo of the sun against him. Nanami Kento thought it was quite a spectacle to wake up alone, with the bed beside him empty.
He sat up, the events of the night before slowly flooding back. His clothes, usually primly put away, were scattered and tattered across the room. He looked at them for a moment before sighing, his head slightly pounding from the drinks. Usually, it was Kento who left before the sun came up. When he took his pleasure, it was transactional, devoid of any emotional connection.
Last night was different. It was only one night, but he couldn’t help but feel as though he wanted more of you. The way your touch had ignited a fire in him, the way your laughter had filled the room with warmth—those memories clung to him now, in the stillness of the morning.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair, glancing around the room. The sight of your note on the nightstand caught his attention. He reached for it, his fingers trembling slightly. The simple message, " Call me up, sweetie ;) " brought a faint smile to his lips. He traced the words with his thumb, feeling a strange mix of hope and uncertainty.
Nanami wasn't used to this feeling, this longing for something more than a fleeting connection. The thought of you lingered in his mind, your touch, your smile, the way you had made him feel alive and vulnerable all at once. It was intoxicating, and he wanted more of it, more of you.
He stood up, gathering his scattered clothes, the remnants of a night that had left a profound impact on him. As he dressed, he couldn't shake the memory of your heels digging into his back, your breathless moans in his ear, the way you had looked at him with such intensity. It was imprinted on his mind, an indelible mark that he couldn't ignore.
Fully dressed, he picked up his phone, staring at your number. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. For a moment, doubt crept in. Was he foolish to think that this could be something more? But then he remembered the way you had pulled him closer, the way you had whispered his name with such need and desire.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. For a moment, the loneliness of his existence seemed to lift. He folded the note and slipped it into his wallet, a spark of anticipation igniting within him. The day ahead seemed a little brighter, the promise of your next encounter lingering in his thoughts.
He couldn’t wait to save your phone number.
He’d have to find a way to charge his phone.
Besides, looking at the clock, he’s pretty late.
And a CEO shouldn’t be late for his own meetings.
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WHEN HE MEETS YOU AGAIN, KENTO IS ENAMOURED. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you since that morning, the memory of your touch and the warmth of your laughter haunting him in the best way possible. The days had stretched on, filled with his usual routine, yet every moment seemed tinged with a new sense of anticipation. And now, standing here, seeing you again, he felt a surge of emotion he hadn't expected.
The bar was a cozy haven tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city, its warm, dim lighting casting a golden glow over the polished wooden surfaces and vintage decor. The air was filled with the soft hum of jazz music, creating an intimate ambiance that made it feel like a world apart from the chaos outside. The scent of aged whiskey and fresh citrus mingled in the air, adding to the inviting atmosphere.
You sat at the bar, your presence effortlessly captivating. The dress you wore was stunning—a sleek, deep emerald green that clung to your curves in all the right places, shimmering subtly under the soft lights. The neckline was modest yet alluring, and the fabric seemed to flow like liquid as you moved. Your hair frames your face perfectly, and a touch of red lipstick highlights your smile, adding a hint of classic glamor.
Kento's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way toward you, each step bringing him closer to the person who had so unexpectedly turned his world upside down. The usual confident air he carried felt slightly shaken, replaced by a nervous excitement that he hadn't felt in years. As he approached, his eyes were glued to you, everything else in the bar fading into a blur. The clinking glasses, the muted conversations, the soft jazz—all of it became mere background noise.
You spotted him, and a slight smile played on your lips. It was a smile that held both warmth and a hint of mischief, a smile that made his pulse quicken. He could barely tear his gaze away from you as he slid onto the stool next to you.
"Hi," he greeted, his voice betraying a hint of the nerves he felt.
"Hi, Kento," you replied, your eyes sparkling with recognition and something more—something that made his breath catch.
For a moment, he simply drank in the sight of you. The way you held yourself, the way the dress accentuated your figure, the way your eyes seemed to see right through him—it was all he could do to remember to breathe.
The bartender approached, breaking the spell momentarily as Kento ordered a drink. But even as he spoke, his attention never wavered from you. He couldn't help but notice the way the bar's golden light played on your skin, giving you an almost ethereal glow.
"You look incredible," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
"Thank you," you replied, a pleased flush coloring your cheeks. "You clean up pretty well yourself."
The conversation flowed as easily as it had the first night, but there was an added layer of familiarity now, a deeper connection that had been forged in the time since. The flirtation was more pronounced, the touches more deliberate. When your fingers brushed against his, he felt a jolt of electricity, the same spark that had ignited between you before.
Kento couldn't focus on anything but you. The way you laughed, the way you tilted your head when you were thinking, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you were passionate about—it was all mesmerizing. He found himself hanging on to every word, every gesture, completely lost in
"Kento," you greeted him warmly, your eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight. "I was hoping you'd call."
"I couldn't stop thinking about you,if I’m being honest." he admitted, his voice softer than usual. "I just had to see you again."
You smiled, and the sight of it sent a rush of warmth through him. "I'm glad you did."
As you talked, the conversation flowed effortlessly, just as it had that first night. There was a connection between you that felt almost tangible, an invisible thread drawing you closer with every word. Kento found himself captivated by the way you spoke, the way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up when you shared stories about your life. He felt a deep sense of admiration and curiosity, wanting to know everything about you.
The evening passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, the bar around you fading into the background as you became lost in each other. Kento couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at ease, so completely himself. With you, there were no pretenses, no need for the carefully constructed walls he usually kept up. You saw him for who he truly was, and that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
When the night began to wind down, he found himself reluctant to say goodbye. The thought of returning to his empty apartment, to the solitude that had once been his comfort, now felt unbearably lonely. As if sensing his hesitation, you reached out, your hand gently brushing against his.
"Would you like to come over for a drink?" you asked, your voice filled with a hopeful note.
He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'd like that."
The walk to your place was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. Once inside, you poured two glasses of wine, and the conversation continued, growing deeper and more intimate as the night went on. Kento found himself sharing things he had never told anyone, opening up in a way that felt both terrifying and liberating.
As the night turned into early morning, he realized just how much he had fallen for you. It was more than just physical attraction; it was a genuine connection, a bond that felt rare and precious. You had seen past the façade he presented to the world and embraced the man underneath, flaws and all.
When it was finally time to say goodnight, you stood close to him, your eyes searching for him. "Kento," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity, "I'm really glad you called."
As the conversation continued, the air between you grew charged with anticipation, a palpable energy that seemed to crackle with every passing moment. Kento found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull you exerted over him.
Leaning in closer, he could feel the heat radiating from your body, the warmth of your presence enveloping him in a comforting embrace. His heart raced in his chest as he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, almost hesitant kiss.
There was a softness to the touch, a delicate intimacy that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around them fading into insignificance as they became lost in each other.
The kiss was gentle yet charged with an underlying passion, a silent acknowledgment of the undeniable connection that had blossomed between them. And as Kento pulled back, a faint smile gracing his lips, he knew that this was only the beginning of something extraordinary. And seeing your face, how wonderstruck you were — he knew you knew it too.
 "So am I." he murmured against your mouth, feeling a sense of contentment he hadn't known he was missing.
You smiled, blush echoing across your face. “You’re a good kisser, you know that?”
Your compliment sent a warm flush creeping up Kento's neck, a rare display of bashfulness from the typically composed CEO. He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with genuine appreciation as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of self-consciousness. "I suppose practice makes perfect."
There was a hint of amusement in his tone, a subtle acknowledgment of the unexpected turn their conversation had taken. Despite his usually reserved demeanor, he found himself enjoying the playful banter, relishing in the easy rapport that had developed between them.
“I’ll see you soon, then. I, uh…..have to go home.”
“Have a safe trip home, lover.”
As he walked home, the memory of your kiss lingering on his lips, he knew that this was just the beginning. Meeting you again had changed something within him, opened up a part of his heart he had long kept locked away. Kento was enamored, and for the first time in a long while, he felt truly hopeful about the future.
He dreams of you all through the night.
Your smiles are ever so warm only for him.
And your bright eyes are full of love for him.
When he woke up, he realized what it meant.
Nanami Kento was truly captured by you.
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THE NEXT TIME, YOU STAY WITH HIM IN HIS BED TILL MORNING. He didn't want you to leave just yet, didn't want you to rush and slip away from his fingers before sunlight. You had finished a fiery session of lovemaking, one of the many rounds of passionate obsession with each other. The intensity of your connection was almost overwhelming, each encounter leaving both of you breathless and yearning for more. You had done this over and over, whenever you saw each other — and more regularly these past few weeks.
As you lay there, bodies entwined and hearts beating in sync, Kento's thoughts wandered. He watched you as you drifted off to sleep, your face serene and content. There was something profoundly beautiful about these quiet moments, a sense of peace that contrasted sharply with the fervent passion of the night. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.
At times, Kento thought that you should just sleep here, rest here until you had enough rest. The idea of waking up next to you, of starting his day with your presence beside him, filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted to cook you breakfast, to share a leisurely morning with you as the sun rose, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. The simple pleasure of a shared meal, of casual conversation over coffee, seemed incredibly precious.
Kento's mind drifted to the little things that signify a deeper connection, a merging of lives. He imagined you leaving a toothbrush here, a small but significant symbol of permanence. It was a step towards belonging, towards fitting into each other's lives in a tangible way. He pictured you having a drawer in his apartment, a space carved out for you in his world. These thoughts were filled with longing, a desire for something more profound and enduring.
He wanted that with you. He wanted you to start leaving your things here, to make his place feel like a shared home rather than just a temporary haven. The idea of your belongings scattered around his apartment — a hairbrush on the vanity, your favorite mug in the kitchen, your scent lingering in the air — filled him with a deep sense of contentment. It was more than just physical intimacy; it was about creating a life together, about building something that went beyond the confines of the bedroom.
As he lay there, holding you close, Kento realized how much he wanted to make you his. He wanted to be the person you came home to, the one who shared your joys and your sorrows, your everyday moments and your grand adventures. He wanted to be the anchor in your life, just as you had become in his. The thought of you being a permanent part of his world was both exhilarating and terrifying, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
He gently kissed your forehead, his heart swelling with affection. More than you probably could ever know, he wanted you to be his, to share a future together. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, he held you a little tighter, hoping that this moment would be the start of something lasting and beautiful.
In the quiet stillness of the morning, with you nestled in his arms, Kento felt a profound sense of hope. For the first time in a long while, the future seemed bright and full of promise. And he knew that, whatever happened, he wanted you by his side.
Kento held you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his. He had never felt this kind of connection before, this blend of deep affection and raw desire. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, he made a silent promise to himself: he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him, how deeply he cared for you.
Kento's gaze softened as he watched you stir from your slumber, the gentle rise and fall of your chest accompanied by the faintest flutter of your eyelashes. It was a moment of quiet intimacy, one that he cherished more than he dared to admit.
As your eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile graced your lips, and Kento felt his heart swell with affection. There was a warmth in your gaze, a softness that melted away the lingering traces of the night's passion, leaving behind a sense of tranquility and contentment.
Returning your smile, Kento reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the hazy glow of morning light, he felt a profound connection to you, a bond that transcended the physical realm and delved into the depths of his soul.
"You're beautiful," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It was a simple statement, spoken from the heart, yet it held a world of meaning behind it. In your eyes, he found solace, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world, and he knew that he never wanted to let you go.
With a tender smile, you leaned into his touch, your eyes locking with his in a silent exchange of love and understanding. In that moment, Kento realized that he had found something truly special in you, something worth holding onto for a lifetime. And as he gazed into your eyes, he knew that he was ready to embark on this journey with you, wherever it may lead.
"Good morning," he whispered, brushing a gentle kiss against your lips. 
"Good morning," you replied, your voice soft and warm. 
As the warmth of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, the two of you remained entwined in a cocoon of shared affection. Each breath seemed to synchronize, a silent symphony of contentment that enveloped you both in its comforting embrace.
Reluctantly, Kento stirred from the languid embrace, his movements slow and deliberate as if he were hesitant to break the spell of intimacy that hung between you. With a soft sigh, he shifted his weight, gently extricating himself from your embrace and sitting up, his muscles protesting the sudden movement after the night's passionate exertions.
Stretching his arms above his head, Kento let out a low groan of satisfaction, the tension of the previous night's activities melting away with each satisfying stretch. Despite the physical exertion, there was a sense of peace that settled over him, a tranquility that he hadn't felt in far too long.
Glancing back at you, still nestled in the rumpled sheets, Kento felt a surge of affection wash over him. Your tousled hair frames your face like a halo, and the soft curve of your lips tugged at his heartstrings in a way that he couldn't quite explain. It was moments like these, when the world seemed to stand still, that he felt truly alive.
"I could stay like this forever," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. There was a tenderness in his touch, a silent promise of his unwavering devotion, as he allowed himself to be drawn back into your embrace, savoring every precious moment that the morning had to offer.
You smiled at him with the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. It was that sort of smile that had the power to light up the darkest corners of his soul, to chase away the shadows of doubt and insecurity that had plagued him for so long. It was a smile that spoke volumes without uttering a single word, conveying warmth, understanding, and an unspoken connection that transcended mere words.
As you gazed at him with those radiant eyes, filled with a mixture of tenderness and affection, Kento felt a sense of wonder wash over him. In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place, as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together in perfect harmony.
Your smile was like a beacon of hope, guiding him through the labyrinth of his own emotions and leading him towards a future filled with promise and possibility. It was a reminder that amidst the chaos of life, there existed moments of pure joy and unadulterated happiness, waiting to be embraced and cherished.
Unable to resist the pull of your magnetic presence, Kento found himself drawn closer to you, his heart swelling with a sense of gratitude for the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought you into his life. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your smile, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be.
"Me too." you whisper back to him, causing his heart to beat as he listened to your words reverberate in the morning quiet. "Being here with you? it's nice."
Kento's soul felt tender at those words, it was like he could live forever in that moment. He could feel that warmth spreading through his chest as he soaked in the sweetness of your sentiment. It was a simple statement, yet it held a profound meaning, resonating deeply within him.
"I'm glad you feel that way," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Being with you... it feels different, in the best possible way."
There was a sincerity in his tone, a raw honesty that he seldom allowed himself to reveal to others. But with you, it felt natural, effortless even, to let down his guard and bare his soul.
As you lay there together, basking in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Kento felt a sense of contentment wash over him. In your presence, he found solace, a refuge from the stormy seas of life, where he could simply be himself without fear of judgment or expectation.
With a soft smile, he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch light and tender against your skin. "Thank you for being here," he whispered, his gaze locked with yours, silently conveying a depth of emotion that words alone could not express. “Truly.”
"Of course," you replied, a smile gracing your lips as you looked up at him. "You make it easy."
His eyes softened at your words, a warmth spreading through him. "I was thinking," he began, glancing back at you, "how about I make us some breakfast? We can take our time, enjoy the morning."
Your smile widened at the suggestion, a spark of anticipation in your eyes. "That sounds perfect," you said, nodding in agreement. "I'd love that."
Kento felt a surge of happiness as he got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. He prepared breakfast with care, wanting everything to be perfect. As he worked, he thought about the future, about the possibility of you becoming a permanent part of his life. 
When the meal was ready, he brought it to the table, where you were already seated, wrapped in one of his shirts. The sight of you in his clothes filled him with a possessive satisfaction, a sense of rightness.
"Here you go," he said, setting the plates down. "I hope you like it."
You took a bite, your eyes lighting up. "It's delicious, Kento. Thank you."
He sat down across from you, watching as you ate. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and shared smiles. It was a glimpse of what life could be like if you were together, a tantalizing promise of happiness.
After breakfast, you both lounged on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Kento felt a sense of peace he hadn't experienced in a long time. He wanted this, all of it. The mundane, the extraordinary, the quiet moments and the passionate ones.
As the morning wore on, Kento's thoughts kept returning to the idea of you leaving your things at his place. He wanted to ask you, but he didn't want to rush anything. Instead, he decided to show you how he felt through his actions.
"You know," he said casually, "I was thinking maybe you could leave a few things here. A toothbrush, some clothes. It might make things easier, you know, since you're here so often."
You looked at him, surprise and something else flickering in your eyes. "You want me to leave things here?"
He nodded, trying to keep his tone light. "Yeah. I like having you around. It feels... right."
You smiled, and Kento felt his heart swell with hope. "I'd like that too, Kento."
From that moment on, things began to change. You started leaving little things at his place: a toothbrush, a hairbrush, a few clothes. Each item was a small but significant step towards building a life together.
Kento cherished every moment with you, every sign that you were becoming a part of his world. He cooked for you, took care of you, and made sure you knew how much he valued you. And as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, he realized that his feelings for you had only grown stronger.
One night, as you lay in his arms, Kento looked at you, his heart full of love. "I want you to know," he said softly, "that you mean everything to me. I want you in my life, permanently. Will you stay with me, not just for tonight, but for always?"
You looked up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "Yes, Kento. I want that too."
At that moment, Kento knew that he had found something truly special. With you by his side, the future was bright and full of promise. And he was ready to face it, hand in hand with the person he loved.
A few days later, he sees that bright purple toothbrush.
Right next to his blue–green that had been lonesome.
He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them together.
It looks like you won’t be rushing out his door anymore.
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class1akids · 3 days
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BNHA Chapter 425 - Thoughts
So I guess Hori did decide to just skip the end of the battle, my hospital academia and go straight to UA graduation?
It was teased back in Ch 360, so yeah it needed to happen and it seems like drawing Neijire is a special happy place for Hori (also the sketch he couldn't even wait until Sunday to drop, lol)
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Mic DJ-ing right after ShiraGiri's death is sort of odd, but on top of the gags, there are some more serious moments.
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What stood out to me was Mirio's comment about how the heroes' fight "is always for the sake of returning the negatives to zero on the whole." It reminded me of Ch 341 - The Story of how We All Became Heroes Minus ① which featured Touya, Toga, Spinner and of course Tomura suffering the transformation. So I can't help but feel it's related to the LoV's fate.
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The class is together 😭 crying like a proud parent (whose tumblr handle just became obsolete).... and Aizawa is staying. Yay. After 400+ chapters they made it to second year!!!
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Bakugou omg, out of the hospital in a tie which he somehow tied with one hand, being calm... (it's still odd to the others? - but I guess his apology happened like 3 weeks ago in-verse). It seems like he might end up with a scar, just like Izuku (and it's a bit like Kudou's, of course).
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Aoyama leaving - I talked about this in one of the asks, but for me it's ok that it's his choice being respected and that the class clearly would be happy to have him stay. Though I wonder if his parents are just suddenly given amnesty for being "AFO's victims" and what that may mean for other villains.
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Shinsou joins Class A long at last. Yay! Is he going to get Aoyama's room or join the 5th floor boys? I do wonder if the kids are still in the dorms even.
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The Fuwa-stans are getting fed. But Class 2-A (can't get used to this...) will take a year long field trip around Japan. Reminds me of the 100 million tour newpaper sketches.
I liked Shoto mentioning AFO - how he was born in an era of turmoil (which I read as him saying that preventing the rise of such villains is now). It also seems to contradict what All Might said last chapter about Deku already being the greatest hero to everyone.
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But also Shouto speaks. Normal speech bubbles. Has a normal voice! Yay! (still don't get it why he didn't speak in Ch 422 though)
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Izuku looks troubled. Either because of what Shouto said or because of Fuwa senpai's comments about needing to experience a sudden death to understand why you'd want to be a hero. He certainly is not ready to run celebratory circles.
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Watch them all walk together (TDBK covered by Iida's speech bubble, but I recognize them from Shouto's messenger bag and Katsuki's loose pants)
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OMG, these guys are a total disaster. I don't know what Deku wanted to say, but Ochako obviously shut him down (and thought it was about her "let him rest" speech which apparently the class keeps teasing her for). Also Hori is using her to explain Deku's haircut.
And here, she looks weirdly happy compared to last time, but it could be just a front...
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poor Deku though... he thinks she hates his haircut
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No idea who the new guy is, but looks like someone escaped / let loose from a medical facility. Could be regenerated Tenko I guess or someone similar to him who can be saved by Deku this time. I prefer it to be the real Tenko because I want to see Tenko Rising. I think he looks too young to be Deku's dad tbh.
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TDDK scene !!! Yay!!! (I wonder if Deku tries to talk both to Ochako and Shouto because of his feelings about Tenko... I really badly want a saviour squad scene)
Todoroki looks hopeful but not sure if it's genuine (it could be putting on a front to stop Izuku from worrying). But his foot is like when he went to see his mom the first time, so I tend to read that right now as a good sign.
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"っし" (?????) - there is definitely a shift of emotion.
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Endeavor is sitting in front of a giant tank / or secure room window. (?) (Probably the same window Shouto was looking in last chapter.
From the context and framing it's clear that it's Touya. For now alive. Endeavor is finally keeping his promise and is watching.
And the editorial blurb also suggests we may get Hellish Todoroki Family 3 after the two weeks break. I'm very worried, but also since we are strapping in for a longer epilogue it seems, I don't expect things to go smoothly for them just yet.
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smallnico · 2 days
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i draw esper in all sorts of outfits with all sorts of hairstyles, so i decided to make a little roadmap of their fashion progress through the game, with some bonus epilogue and prologue looks. they're easily one of my most dress-uppable ocs.
the fact that they wear nothing but black and other dark colours is a practicality more than anything, clearly. their ability to wear white for any period of time without ruining it is one of the best things they got out of rejecting bhaal. the one thing that has never changed is their need to have tits out at all possible times.
this is something i've always wanted to do for a character but haven't had the energy or motivation to do, just goes to show how deep into the bg3 hyperfixation and obsession with my own durge i am. the piece that put me over the fence and inspired me to do this was @tcustodisart's piece for connecticut tav? and i'm glad i did it because this was fun :>
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finniestoncrane · 1 day
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Nick Valentine x GN!Reader, word count: 1.4k hi hello i had to write this because i'm going insane about him. he might be my self-insert's father figure, but i've got daddy issues, so welcome to that nightmare. just some pleasure-dom nick having the tables turned on him, with reader treating him to a little bit of pleasure geared towards his... well, gears 🚬 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: electrostimulation, thigh riding/grinding, sort of implied that reader has a vagina in that they get him wet but that could be precum kjhkjhasd
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Nick tapped the cigarette against the ashtray on his desk, his degloved hand, all metal and hinges, clutching the burning embers, determined to get one last draw out of it. But it dwindled before his bright, yellow eyes, and instead he stubbed it out with a sigh, looking to the clock on top of the filing cabinet. Still plenty of time left in the day. Only six, that was barely the evening.
There was always time for one more case. Always room to squeeze in more work. And though the in tray was empty, he could still go out and sniff out a new case to work on. So he stood up from the desk, refreshed determination, and reached for his trench coat, which wasn't in its usual place. Quickly frustrated, he called out.
"Ellie? Ellie! Where's my coat? Have you seen it?"
From the front of the room, entering silently and unnoticed as Nick kept lifting piles of old paperwork in a futile search for his jacket, you watched him.
"I sent Ellie home, Nick. Work's over for the day."
He turned to you, ready to chastise you for telling him when his business could be open, but he was stopped by the vision before him.
Leaning against the wall, you smiled to him, chewing on your lip to stop the grin spreading too much and ruining your blasé, sultry attitude. He wasn't going to find his coat, because you were wearing it. The top buttons were undone, exposing a lot more chest than he was used to seeing on you, but the others were fastened, concealing your body from him, and the susprise you had for him below it.
"I see the case of the missing coat has been solved then."
"Hm, I guess so. But there's always the mystery of what's underneath."
Nick sat back down at his desk, lighting another cigarette once he was settled in his chair. He took one long draw and looked up at you past the brim of his hat.
"You got any clues for me then, sweetheart?"
Your fingers teased over one of the buttons, slowly undoing it, letting the lapels fall a little further apart.
"How's that?"
"I think I might need a little more."
Another button, undone slower than the last, his patience wearing as his lust built up.
"Any closer, detective?"
"How about you give an old man a break and just show me?"
Quickly undoing the last of the buttons, you let the coat fall open, exposing your body clad in intricate lingerie. Torn and frayed a little, here and there, but nicer than anything he'd seen in a long time.
You walked over to the desk, one foot in front of the other, taking your time on the journey and relishing the way his eyes took you in, the bright yellow light rising from your toes to your head. His mouth opened, and his cigarette fell out, stubbing itself in the ashtray, the smoke rising up to frame you as you perched on the edge of the desk. Leaning across, you picked up his cigarette and placed it back in his mouth, lifting the lighter and flicking it, watching the dulled embers spark back to life as he took another draw.
When he was close to the end, you walked around the desk and settled yourself on one of his thighs, waiting for him to stub out the butt before you caressed his cheek, fingers teasing at the exposed hinge of his jaw.
"I have another little surprise for you."
Your hand slipped into the pocket of his coat, producing a set of jumper cables as you kicked a little makeshift battery out from under the desk. Nick looked at you quizzically, but with a hint of excitement.
"It's your turn. I thought it might be nice to see you get a little kick for a change."
Sliding down from the desk, you perched on one of his thighs, your body tingling with arousal as his hands moved protectively around your hips to keep you steady. With a grateful smile, you reached up and removed his hat, setting it down on the desk, free hand caressing his cheek as you took in his features without the shadow of the brim.
"What are you waiting for then, doll?"
His sly grin had your heart pounding as your fingers made their way to his tie, loosening it and letting it hang around his neck as you turned your attention to this buttons of his shirt. You opened each one slowly, deftly, letting your fingertips glide over the soft, synthetic texture of his chest. Completely smooth, but you could work with that.
Pinching a bit of his skin away from his exoskeleton, you clamped one end of the jumper cable to it, the other attached to the battery. And then you did the same on the other side of his chest, a second makeshift nipple to attach your tools too. Two jumper cables, both ready to go. You lifted the battery up, your thumb hovering over the power switch on the side.
"You ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Pushing down, you let the small jolt of electricity pass through him, his body insulated, saving you from the majority of the shockwave but still enough electricity tingling over him that you felt the benefit yourself.
Nick's jaw loosened, the tattered remnants of his neck trembling as he twitched with pleasure. It was as close to arousal as he would ever experience, each fresh spark another wave that crashed over him, a pulse of excitement. And it was only heightened by the way your eyes sparkled back as you looked into his, the yellow light reflecting in your pupils, the way that it dimmed and brightened as the electricity coursed through him.
The excitement wasn't lost on your either. Soft, sharp throbs of arousal, jolts of joy from each little push of the button had you on edge, skin hot and prickled. In an act so desperate it made you blush, you could feel yourself beginning to roll your hips, aching for some friction against your heat, needing to feel yourself on Nick as you rode his thigh.
As he felt your body pushing down onto him, satisfying yourself, using him to get off, he groaned softly. The sound rumbled in his throat, a slight hitch to it as another round of shockwaves travelled through his wires.
Flicking the battery off, you settled once again into your rhythm, grinding your body into him, rutting forwards and backwards along his thigh, unable to really control yourself. It felt good just to feel him, to fuck yourself on him as you watched him revel in the effects of your stimulation.
"You're having fun, aren't you?"
You couldn't tell if it was playful teasing, given how obvious your arousal was, or if Nick was genuinely worried that this was only enjoyable for him. You reasoned that it was probably a bit of both. He was used to giving pleasure, not necessarily receiving it. He liked for you to be the focus, the one that the attention was on. It felt strange for him to have you in power, to let you do all the hard work. So you took one of his hands, shifting your body down his thigh a little and placing his palm where you had been grinding against him.
"You're the detective, Nick. Figure it out..."
He felt the sensation of damp against the fabric, your slick coating his thigh.
"I don't have a change of pants with me, missy."
"Well, you'll just have to think of a good excuse if anyone asks what that stain is, Valentine."
His fingertips were cool against your cheek, the exposed metal tingling against your skin as he stroked it softly. The bright yellow light of his eyes was difficult to look into for too long, but you accepted the strain just to keep the connection there, only looking down when he pressed his forehead to yours.
"Ok... as long as you're having fun then... you could try increasing the voltage this time."
Looking back up at him, you blushed as he winked, an immediate and renewed warmth spreading over you once more.
"Yes, Mr Valentine."
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deadbeat-motel · 1 day
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ᑕᕼEᖇᖇIᗷOᗰᗷ ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕIᖇᑭEᑎTIOᑌᔕ ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ
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The last two designs for the main cast. With these two done, I can finally work on miscellaneous characters that I've been eyeing the most.
Again, thoughts below the cut:
My issues with their Original designs:
Sir Pentious:
I thought I would only have one thing to say about him (the unnecessary eyes) since he was my favorite in the entire original cast but having taken a closer look at him for this, I saw a lot of things that bothers me.
Too many eyes. specifically the lower half of his body has too many eyes and it seems detrimental to him. It's kind of painful to think about it since I do not think we ever see those eyes close. Is he just slithering on the ground with those exposed eyes? That's got to be irritating at best and damaged at worst as he continuously slithers on them.
There are eyes on the bowtie and the hat? There are already 4 extra eyes on his hood, so why have even more? I get that the original Pentious design was basically a monsterous amalgamation of eyes but the eye thing could have been scrapped altogether.
While his palette was the least red out of the cast (More so composed of yellows), it still blends in with the rest of the reds.
The claws are an unnecessary repeating design trait (Alastor and Vox notably have them too). I don't think it would've been too big of a difference to just keep his fingers fully black.
The stripes on his suit are too thick. It's called pinstripes for a reason.
I don't like how the hat is shaped to fit the head, It's awkward.
not a point, but I just wanted to say how the blue color palette works really well with him in that last episode.
CherriBomb:
She's not that bad of a design (She's sort of bland in my opinion) but it's the little small details about her that makes her so simple and also so complicated at the same time. There are so many batches of freckles scattered everywhere, little explosion lines on her skirt as well as the X on her chest, the tattoos are a jamble of random loops and bombs, and her tattering doesn't have an easy shape to consistently draw.
The thought process for these two:
Mx. Pentious:
Pentious goes by both Sir/Miss/Mx. but uses she/they pronouns.
Minimized the actual amount of eyes on her, I kept it only to her actual eyes and those on her hood.
Gave her a butterfly-shaped hood. It's nothing deep since it stems from the fact the notches in Sir Pentious' hood almost looked like one to my bad eyesight. I decided to play more into that idea.
I read some posts where people talk about how Sir Pentious should have a snout and while I understand why and fully support people giving him one, I really didn't want to add the snout to this design. It drove me crazy since I'm not a big fan of it. I tried a compromise where her head was shaped more like Phineas.
Kept the tophat but removed its eye and mouth. If I remember correctly, Viv took that from one of her co-workers from the pilot. I decided to just have it as a regular tophat.
It doesn't have all the colors, but her design does have the Neptunic flag.
I'm not sure if this even is a real snake but I based Mx. Pentious' design on this:
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CherriBomb:
Scraped most of her features in exchange for a sukeban theme. I personally have zero knowledge about the punk scene in Australia.
A majority of the suggestions I received for her rough draft had something to do with the skirt. I elongated it and gave it a slit in which the magenta from the inside is able to pop out.
Thought it would be a cute detail to have her hair explode if she's angry.
----
Apologies this took too long to be posted, Life got in the way as well as the fact I was feeling shitty about Pentious' first draft. Her skin was an awkward and ugly shade of green and seeing some posts critical of Pentious' design got me to think a little bit more about what direction I'd like to move her redesign.
You could see this in the earlier rough sketches but this was how Pentious' first redesign looked like
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broomsick · 3 days
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Will the gods be upset with me if I do nothing for an entire year or more? Ive not tried to communicate, or left offerings or anything as im really not able to all the time.. and my mental health has not been all too kind. My nan also has dementia now so just been stressed and drained. Now and again each morning I will look toward my altar and say good morning to them. They are in my thoughts.
Why hello there, friend.
I’m so, so sorry to hear that you’re going through such a difficult time. There’s always mystery surrounding the thoughts of the Gods, the way they feel about our human lives and emotions. While it’s true that we can only grasp at what they think, there is also a great aspect of spiritual practice which we can all rely on to some extent: that is our faith, our instinct— in general, what our gut tells us.
And I personally believe that Gods care for us, no matter how often we can afford to make offerings, or how often we pray. I believe they care about us in spite of our flaws. I have actually shared more on my thoughts on the topic in this previous post, if you’re interested in hearing the reasons behind this belief. I’ve always thought faith was at the very core of polytheism, after all, none of us practice in exactly the same way, but all of us share one thing in common: belief in the Gods. And what you have been doing, just keeping them in your thoughts, even making the effort of saying hello every morning, is plenty enough already. I feel like the Gods sometimes act towards us like they act towards a friend: a friend wouldn’t blame you knowing all that you’re going through, right?
Now, I must also specify two things about this particular topic. The first is that I’ve never given credit to the idea that the Gods will get angry at every little “mistake”. Experience taught me that when somebody is trying to convince you that this or that deity is somehow “mad” at you, they’re very probably using a guilt tactic to manipulate you to some extent. And even if they’re not, then they’re still trying to make you adhere to their beliefs, thus placing them in a position of spiritual authority.
As I’ve mentioned, I’m no better than anybody when it comes to guessing at the Gods’ feelings. However, I’ve never heard of, or experienced a deity being somehow angry at one of their worshippers. Sure, this sort of occurrence appears in myth! But I’m always the first to point out that mythology and reality are fully distinct, and it’s important to draw that line when it comes to neo-pagan practice.
I hope you find in your heart that your deities do care for you very much. Sometimes it’s this faith that gets us through such difficult times of disconnect from spirituality. Every one us experiences these moments when we’re so busy we can barely spare a thought for our practice. But it’s nothing at all to feel guilty for. The amount of time we can dedicate to all aspects of our lives is variable. The Gods know this, and I believe they also know of our struggles as humans.
I hope you know that you’re so very resilient and strong, and that I admire you greatly for dealing with all of this, all the while keeping a thought for your spirituality. I hope you’re given all the care and support you deserve, and I believe your deities are right at your side, providing you with guidance and encouragement.
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I love science experiment!reverse!! But I need more science experiment!reverse reader and everyone's favorite grandpa and butler Alfred!! Extra fluffy pls!! 💕💕💕
Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose. Boys were simple. He could understand the ebb and flow of those emotions. The triggers and what made them tick.
But even with the way everything you felt swirling around you like an undertow, he couldn't make sense of today. Today, it felt like... a different sort of hell. You were keeping to yourself. Avoiding everyone.
Days of sleep deprivation and struggling to eat anything. Nightmares and a perpetual fear of cages. Nothing anyone said or did could draw you out of your hiding places. And it worried him.
He stopped at the kitchen door, and took a deep breath. Alfred was baking. And talking. Keeping up, it seemed, a running commentary trying to explain to you what was happening on his soap opera.
"But why-"
"Because, my dear," Alfred said, cheerfully, wrapping a pan on the counter, "Dramatics and theatrics are always entertaining as long as they aren't happening to you."
"It's just so much," you murmur.
"Well, of course it is. It's been on the air for 35 years. They have to justify the airtime somehow."
"The guy in the suit is a jerk. I don't like him."
"You aren't supposed to like Stefan. You're supposed to love to hate him," Alfred chuckled. And Bruce hears the sound of the oven door opening and a pan being slid out and another pan taking place.
You make a soft thoughtful noise and Bruce smiles a little. some of the hellish storm you'd been living in seems to have faded, even if it wasn't entirely gone. And he's dying to peer around the corner and see what's happening but- he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. You're tired and discombobulated. That's the only reason you haven't fled.
But then, Alfred had some experience with strays. And he had nieces. So as Bruce listened to him, fussing without fussing. Just letting you respond when you wanted to respond instead carrying on his monologue with spaces for you to break in if you felt like it.
"- Alright," he said, "Now you just try that and tell me it isn't marvelous."
"I think my mom used to make cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning," you murmur. And Bruce can hear the frown. Like You're trying to remember. Like you're squinting at water-smeared ink on a page.
"You think?" Alfred asked
"There's- There's a lot I don't remember. I don't really remember what they look like anymore either."
"I don't have a cure for that," Alfred admitted. And Bruce heard the sound of a plate and fork being pushed towards you. "But, there's no day a hot cinnamon bun and a few hours of horrid soap operas can't make a little better."
"The stories are sad."
"Then perhaps," Alfred suggested, "we'll find something more cheerful."
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dceasesd · 6 hours
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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.3)
go check out part 1 and part 2 if you'd like! this is a long one, sorry guys.
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if you haven't already i'd recommend you check out pt. 1 & pt. 2 (linked above), but if you haven't checked them out i've been going over some of the main things people have been criticizing ba's characterization for: 1. the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one" 2. his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character 3. the neighbor's kid interaction
alright, so this last point is purely based off of one page of the entire comic: the one where the child of one of jason's neighbors is dragged inside his home when his mother see's jason coming.
first off, i love this page. it might be my favorite page in the entire issue. everything about it is great. just thought i needed to say that.
anyway, there's some people who are seeing this page and reading it as "jason protects kids! that's one of his big things! why are they scared of him?"
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here's the thing, though: the kid isn't scared of jason, the mom is. the kid is literally playing dress up as the red hood-- he's not scared of jason, if anything he's trying to replicate him. little kids dress up as their heroes all the time; why is this kid any different? it doesn't really make sense for the kid to dress up of something he's scared of (not everyone is as weird bruce wayne), especially a real person that could be a real threat rather than a concept. i doubt you see many kids in gotham dressing up as the joker or something, because that's just asking for trouble.
the dress-up honestly seems like a ploy for attention to me. the kid clearly knows that red hood lives in his building (which is honestly so funny. take off the mask jason you're giving you're position away (actually this is a really good instance for analysis but i'm determined to not go on a tangent)). if the kid knows red hood lives in his building, what better way to get his attention that dressing up as him and playing pretend? if the kid was scared of him, he wouldn't want to draw that sort of attention to himself. if he had a sort of hero-worshippy thing going on like i suspect, then he would want to get jason's attention. to sum it up,
it's the mom who pulls him away when jason nears, because she either a) perceives him as a threat, b) doesn't want her kid to try and replicate him even more, or, the most likely option, both! the kid isn't scared of him, but the mother believes they should be.
once again, we come back to the whole perception vs. reality theme i talked about in part one! we've come full circle, everyone!
when looking at the neighborhood's perspective of the red hood, ba gives us a few contradictory examples. there's the kid and the mother, obviously, but there's also a slew of other citizens who interact with him at the beginning of the issue, both in fear and camaraderie.
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the unhoused man and the people outside of his building clearly have a familiarity and are comfortable with him, while the shopkeeper is terrified and literally has a banned poster on his wall featuring jason (i am so curious what he did to deserve that, if he even did anything at all). from this, it appears that jason's reputation teeters between fearful and familiar-- a sentiment that also colors jason's relationship with his family.
furthermore, this concept underscores just how lonely jason is-- one of the only good relationships he had in his current life was his fucking landlord, for gods sake, and he's dead.
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i think it's important to note that jason doesn't respond to the friendly greetings from the men-- he could attempt to build camaraderie, the roots are there, but he chooses not to. he could work to try and show the mother that her son is safe with him, but he chooses not to. why? jason is obviously lonely (as ba states in the panel below) and he caves pretty easily when damian asks him for help (both of them are so desperate for human interaction its tragic). so why does he distant himself from the community?
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obviously it is in part due to the vigilante lifestyle, but it is also jason's perception of himself and how he believes others perceive him, especially in regards to his family (ba is literally hitting readers in the head with that theme baseball bat).
he doesn't see that the kid with the mask looks up to him, all he sees is the mother pulling him away. he sees the banned poster in the store. and, as ba narrates, "he was sure he'd been forgotten about" by his family. utrh is jason's twisted way of attempting to reach out and connect with bruce, and obviously that doesn't work-- so he chooses loneliness over rejection.
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like in part one, though, damian refutes this idea by describing bruce's perspective, showing how what jason believes differs from actuality. bruce hasn't forgotten about him and doesn't hate him, as he suspected, but instead harbors guilt over the situation and desires to make it better, which jason must come to understand to be able to open the locked door and begin to move past his trauma.
so, that's what the little kid in the red hood outfit looks like to me. i actually have a lot more i'd like to say about the boy wonder, especially in regards to the whole "door to my past life" thing and what ba does with lighting and blocking in his artwork, so i may do a little post on that as well! i was gonna try and shove it into this one, but i've run out of room! i hope you guys liked my analysis, if you'd like to chat about the boy wonder or any other comics, my dms, asks, and reblogs are happily open! thanks for reading! :)) <3
pt. 1 / pt. 2
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