#Old One Piece art style still owns my heart

[leftsidebonfire]

I miss him.......Pre Timeskip Zoro 🥺

#Zoro #Pre Timeskip #Pre Timeskip Zoro #Roronoa Zoro #One Piece #Strawhat Pirates #HE USED TO SMILE SO MUCH #I MISS THAT FACE #Old One Piece art style still owns my heart

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content. 

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life. 

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal. 

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.” 

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting. 

Not that he was one to pout. 

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh. 

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him. 

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged. 

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day. 

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go. 

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy. 

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go. 

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck. 

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.” 

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job! 

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting. 

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry. 

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was… 

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory. 

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley. 

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force. 

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was. 

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love. 

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.  

“It’s great.” Steve said. 

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right. 

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed. 

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry. 

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work. 

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm. 

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him. 

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant. 

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower. 

He shouldn’t. 

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely. 

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked. 

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it. 

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat. 

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?” 

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things. 

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi  flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke. 

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me.  Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.” 

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. 

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on. 

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry. 

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end. 

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal. 

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times. 

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation. 

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?” 

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call. 

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for. 

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.” 

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?” 

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long. 

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze. 

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid! 

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one. 

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat. 

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him? 

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on. 

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.  

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜

#steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #steddie #tattoo artist eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #tattoo artist chrissy cunningham

[astermath]

my muse.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a short oneshot of steve's girlfriend painting him, and him being able to see his own beauty through your eyes.

word count: 1.1K

notes: got this cute idea out of nowhere, thought maybe steve would like to know how beautiful others think he is.

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

“Is it done yet?”

Steve sits on a stool in front of the window in your atelier. The slowly dimming light of the sun setting illuminates him from the back, the lamp you have set up besides you letting you see him from the front.

“Almost Stevie, be patient.”

He’s been sitting perfectly still for over an hour. An admirable feat, to be honest. He’s not usually one for sitting idly at all, always fidgeting one way or another or wanting to move about.

But he’s been doing quite well. He wants to do well. For you. So you can do your thing.

He’s been secretly wanting to do this ever since he’s seen your paintings. You’re incredibly talented, something between a Monet and a Renoir. An incredible eye for colour and composition, but most of all, you like to paint people.

You do a hell of a job at capturing someone’s likeness, even through the lens of an impressionistic art style. Steve is sure you’ll make it big with your art one day. You told him most painters only get famous after they die, and that didn’t exactly sit well with him. He'd rather have you alive and famous, but mostly the first part.

You’d been going through a bit of an art block, and so you’ve went through your old sketchbooks. You realised there is a surprising, almost embarrassing, amount of drawings of your boyfriend in there. Like… Pages, upon pages. You’ve always thought he has this effortless, beautiful air about him that just made every pose look like it should be captured onto paper forever.

When you asked him if he wanted to model for your next painting, Steve's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He's always adored your art, supporting you and your passion every step of the way, so to be immortalised on one of your canvases is a huge honour to him.

He was a bit nervous though. He knows you think he's the prettiest boy alive, and though he does think he's serviceable, he's not sure if he's painting worthy.

Still, who is he to deny his sweet girl of using him as a reference?

At first, it was hard. How in god's name do you capture someone as beautiful and complex as Steve Harrington onto something as simple as a blank canvas? You want it to be perfect. You want it to reflect the type of person he is. You want the adoring glint in those gorgeous brown eyes to come through, the dimple in his cheek when he smiles, the constellations of freckles and moles gracing his skin. In a sense, it has to be your best piece yet.

"Alright," you lean back for what feels like the hundredth time already, getting a good look at your work. You take a moment, deciding not to let your nerves get the best of you and not overthink it. The urge is there, but you'd feel awful about letting your boyfriend sit there for yet another hour.

"I think... I think I'm done." you put down your brush, clasping your paint clad hands together in your lap.

Steve perks up in that adorable way he tends to do when he's curious. "Really? Can I come see?"

You bite your lip, unsure once again if the painting truly reflects the beauty of its subject. You sigh, knowing nothing probably ever will. You nod, lifting your hand so you can beckon him over.

He can barely contain his excitement, breaking into a little jog as he makes his way over to you. His arm drapes over your shoulders as he positions himself besides you.

"Woah..." His eyes widen as he takes it all in. The entire artwork exudes warmth. A mix of yellows, oranges and pinks surround him in the way a beautiful sunset would, and his smile looks as if it could cure anything. The brush strokes are a bit experimental, but not messy. Nothing is accidental, every placement and detail has a reason. A purpose.

You nibble on the back of your finger, anxiously awaiting his approval. You find that the longer you look at your art, the more flaws you notice. Now you're conflicted. You just want to do Steve's pretty face justice.

"D'you like it?" You look at him, all nervous.

But Steve looks like he has stars in his eyes. And tears. Yeah, he's definitely about to cry.

"Stevie? You okay?"

He blinks a few times, a stray tear rolling over his cheek as he clears his throat. "Yeah, I, uhm-- wow, it's-- it's beautiful." He looks at you, those pretty eyes he loves, all confused at him.

"Are you sure?" you smile a little sheepishly.

"Peach..." He leans in and presses a kiss to your head. "I love it. It's beautiful. It's just, I... I'm amazed you think I'm so beautiful too."

"I just painted what I saw. 'N what you make me feel."

Steve feels like he's going to melt, your words fulfilling every bit of his loving fantasies. You don't even mean to, and yet you know exactly what to say to pull on his heartstrings.

"Makes me feel so appreciated. Thank you baby, I love it." He grins, all boyish excitement.

"Yeah, I love it too... I think this one's my favourite, actually." You look up and capture Steve's lips in yours in a chaste kiss. "Might have to frame it, hm?"

"I have a better idea."

"I'm listenin'."

"Could you paint the two of us? Like on that polaroid in my wallet?"

He's referring to the polaroid you took when you first met. It was a party, and you were both fairly inebriated. Somehow, you'd started talking, and you hadn't left each other's side all night, leaving the dancing to the others and instead opting to entertain each other. Robin captured the moment the two of you were stuck in a laughing fit together, and Steve has kept it in his wallet ever since. It warms your heart to know he's kept you with him even far before you two got together.

"Yeah, I can do that. What do I get in return?" You smile, faces so close your noses are still rubbing together.

"One million kisses."

"Hmm..."

"Two million kisses."

"You drive a hard bargain, Harrington."

"Three?"

"Sold."

"Sold."

"Good." you peck his lips, "better start that down payment now."

tag list ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

@inkluvs @palmtreesx3

#stevemath #aster writes stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve x reader #steve x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x painter!reader #steve harrington x artsy!reader #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington writing

[takiki16]

Hey so I am starting to get into Jupiter Ascending fandom (a couple years late but what can I say). I was thinking of writing a fic. Do you have any resources for JA extra information?

Thanks in advance. Also I am loving your fic (it's how I started getting into the fandom lololol). can't wait to reread!!!

HOOOOOOO BOY!!!!

I'm paging @bemusedlybespectacled, @gallifreyburning, @vr-trakowski, @sorrelchestnut, @florentinequill, @fuckyeahjupiterascending, @vrabia, and honestly ANYONE ELSE who wants to chime in here, bc HOOOOOOO BOY!

(I made that sweet puppy in fucking 2015 on my dying laptop in the travel study dorm in DC, JUPITER ASCENDING HOW I LOVE THEE)

The eternal fucking tragedy of Jupiter Ascending is that the wider world doesn't love it like we do. Does it have every single thing that turns my crank, id-wise? Sure! Does it have gorgeous over-the-top sequined costumes and extravagant set pieces that remind you at every minute that this movie specially thanked Swarovski Crystal in the credits? Sure! Does it have theeeee single most pinpoint reading of MY PERSONAL FEMALE GAZE that Channing Tatum has ever done? (sorry mister Magic Mike, but you do not even come CLOSE to "may I kill him?" in terms of sexy) SURE! Was this movie a commercial or critical success? Absolutely not 😔

There isn't, as far as I'm aware, an art book. There isn't an official novelization. There isn't even an actual script posted to the usual internet databases that isn't just an automatic shitty talk-to-text rendition of the movie dialogue. There are concept art paintings and old cast interviews floating around, and this auction website where the Wachowskis auctioned off some of the props from the movie, but as far as canon resources and extra material beyond the movie itself there isn't much. A quick duckduckgo search would probably be more helpful to you than anything else, if any of the websites still have the articles up - it WAS eight years ago, and doesn't that just break my fucking heart.

My corner of tumblr LOVED this movie. In 2015, there were TONS of posts gathering interviews, posting concept art, making cosplays, all the signs of a small but healthy fandom ecosystem. However, we call this the blue hellsite for a reason - not all of those resources are still there, and the ones that survived time and incompetent archival site coding are probably difficult to find. I would definitely recommend trawling the JA tags of all the blogs I tagged at the start of this post, as JA introduced me to two of my longest and most beloved of all mutuals. ALL of their insights were key to A Fine Chain.

There is also my own jupiter ascending tag and my more specific jupiter ascending meta tag, although I don't know how bored you are lol. The general JA tag is 105 pages - I would almost recommend just starting at page 105 and working forward from there since it chronicles my descent into kinky space angel werewolf brain rot pretty nicely. There are also my ao3 bookmarks for JA.

I WILL SAY that it has been 8 years, and I have changed into a very different person than the one I was when I first saw this movie. I don't REGRET the first few chapters of A Fine Chain, or any of my breathless meta posts, but I do think that if I were to write any of them over again, I'd hope that my writing style has matured and I'd have lots more extra material to draw from. Actually graduating from law school, writing long fic in another fandom, and generally percolating more as a person has given me lots of new perspectives on JA that make it more interesting even as I still enjoy it (for example, HBO's Succession is ODDLY RELEVANT and I wish there were more JA fanwriters to take advantage of that fact).

...I hope that was helpful? I will ETERNALLY mourn the fact that this fandom wasn't isn't bigger - we haven't even broken 1k on ao3! But EYE MYSELF am here to discuss JA stuff as long as this weird spurt of creative energy sustains me, and my inbox is always open!

#jupiter ascending #fandom #my posts #jupiter ascending meta #if NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU MY GLITTERY SPACE EXTRAVAGANZA I WILL LOVE YOU #was it perfect? no. was it a bit of a hot mess at times? yes. BUT DO I LOVE IT? HELL YEAH #long post

[pansear-doodles]

do you have like advice for drawing

stuff you wish you knew when starting out or

If there is one thing you should know anon, is that you should always draw for yourself foremost.

Maybe when you do commissions or art school homework that's a different thing, but art is freedom of expression. Please remember this, as someone who struggles the tangent of what is it for me or for others.

Another piece of advice may not have to do with art but for your experience when it comes to sharing your art online. Becoming an internet famous at an early age or being popular at that early age can really affect you mentally in a negative way. And also that you must value your safety and be more wary of how other people (especially older people) treat you.

How would I know this? Because I used to be like that in the FNAF fandom, and that fandom was HUGE. (Which leads me to worrying about the 14 year old who took part in animating the new spiderverse movie, side note)

I do not know how old you are anon, but regardless of your age, do not let people control you or allow you to stray from your path of wanting. You have your own space and others who respect it, you should respect back. Keep in your boundaries. Funny I'm telling this to you, as someone who struggles with it, but advice is advice and if anything, sharing my experience maybe helps.

Another advice, something that's actually art related. It's okay if you're struggling or wanting to find a footing in an art style, but don't think too hard about finding an exact one. What you think and imagine is fluid. Don't be too harsh on yourself to solidify it. Dont worry about not having an identity soon or worry about being samey. You will eventually find something you're comfortable doing, which in turn gives you your identity in the art world.

People always worry about not having a consistent art style, but personally I believe that's a way for their experimentations and creative thought processes to expand and explore.

If you want to have multiple art styles, then that's fine. If you want to have a single art style, that's fine too. Tying back to my first piece of advice here, remember that you should do this for yourself foremost.

Finally, one more piece of advice that I hold dear to my heart: absolutely go fuck-all and grab all kinds of inspirations, even in the media you consume and the things that happen to you and experience in your life.

I love cartoons and I like watching them (and I still do it; a bumbling 21 year old watching bluey). They were my main drive to create stories, character designs, pretty palettes, etcetera. Literally all of my original characters, ideas and storybeats are inspired by at least one or two things I enjoy.

It is always the good mind to get reference and please never be ashamed of borrowing ideas (unless such ideas are made by a niche creator, then consider asking and crediting, addressing where you got it from).

If you are starting out, you can use bases and templates to help you learn basic practices. Like training wheels on a bike. Remember to credit and or ask permission about things you're tracing from, and other resources you're using. Once you're ready or finding something you enjoy or find a footing in, break away from that.

#ask #art advice

[altagraye]

Warnings: nsfw, 18+ only, smut, cussing (c’mon people it’s me), squirting, smacking, manhandling soft!dom x innocent!reader, Lloyd has an innocence corruption kink, dark main character, unprotected sex ( put raincoats on peeps!), age gap (reader is of legal age), reader is 25, Lloyd is 40, Lloyd (yeah he is definitely a warning) .

Author's note: This was written on a very very old tablet and or my regular cell phone. I apologize for any mistakes. My laptop is currently broken.

Part 1: switchblade serenade

You were 25, with the face of a young Jennifer Aniston but cursed with a nasty scar above your eyebrow, and your palette painted in the goth style. Or as much of it as Lloyd would let you wear. Today you were dressed in classic cotton stocking, the ones that hugged your thighs and left a few inches of skin before your plaid skirt was covering you.

Lloyd absolutely showered you in gifts, a pearl necklace that accentuated a few sparse moles on your declate. Classic black nails, dotted in silver glitter- a touch all your own.

You stood by Lloyd's side as the corrupt goons exited the building. Yeah, they were his confidants and informants, but we always have to keep our eyes out for them. It’s easy to get back stabbed when you aren’t looking. While the last one was still in the room, his back to you, Lloyd took pleasure in lifting your skirt and coaxing at your skimpy clothed cunt.

He wanted a lacy thong on you, icing on his Cupcake. The heavy cedar double doors closed finally. Leaving you two alone, at least for now. His perfect blue eyes glazed over you for a short moment, admiring a fine piece of art like you, before his lips crashed into your own. You couldn’t help but moan into his rough kiss. His mustache brushing your soft lips, itching just a little. His wide hands slipped underneath the spaghetti strap of the thong and gripped the plump globes of your ass.

The both of you were finally alone after many long hours of being in stupid planning meetings on where the next target was and how to initiate the hit. Effortlessly he lifted you up and set you down on the fancy french table. Your insides were begging, burning for him to fuck you silly.

You tangled your fingers into his hair as he moved onto your jugular, sucking on it hard, showing how much he wanted you.

“Been waiting all day for this. Kinda just wanted to fuck you with them here. But, now I can screw you as hard as I want.” Lloyd rambled semi- to himself and half to you. Your heart was beating loud in your ears, until you heard the familiar clank of his belt buckle.

You closed your legs immediately. He growled and turned you over onto your belly. Dragging your torso so that you hung from the edge of the table. Your skirt lifted, with a sharp sear he smacked your ass.

“You're gonna be a brat now? Need me to fuck you til your pretty little brain melts? Answer me Cupcake.” you yipped with each swat of his heavy hand.

“It’s friday! It’s friday! It’s finger me friday” You pouted. You knew he didn’t like rules. And rules were for the good and the weak. To keep the intimacy interesting, you set up a specific flavor of sex for Lloyd to adhere to depending on the day.

Smother me monday- for when either of you felt like face-sitting, or when Llyod wanted to motorboat you.

Torture tuesday- when we pushed our limits of pain while we fucked each other.

Whack off wednesday- we can only pleasure ourselves on wednesday. No matter how hard it got, even if we were inches from each other.

Toys for thursday- only reaching orgasm from toys on this day.

Finger me friday- Lloyd can only make you cum with his fingers, today.

Shibari Saturday- when Lloyd treats you like his cute little rope bunny.

Sinner Sunday- sunday is kind of a free day. But when it’s not, he gets to cum in you however many times he likes.

Lloyd inhaled a big sigh, and rolled his eyes. "For once, your rules aren't boring. So I'm glad I forgot them, just wish I could break them more often." His hands traveled up and down your thighs.

His breath ghosting over your knees as he slowly pried you open again. One arm encompassing your torso to drag you closer to him. With one look, you were caught in his trance. The two of you were much like a drug to one another.

none of you being able to survive without the other. If anyone saw the two of you separately, they’d think you would carry on living your very separate lives. but, you couldn’t breathe without him. simply inseparable, however strange the circumstances.

Lloyd kissed up your torso, his hands skirting underneath your shirt, removing the garment to reveal your smooth skin. Your arms embraced the sculpted curves of his back, still an exquisite form of a man regardless of his more mature years. After all, you liked a man who knew what he was doing.

with his mouth, Lloyd took the front zipper of your bra and unzipped it. Your full, round womanhood only for him. He was awestruck. as if he were witnessing the hope diamond.

“you’re so beautiful for me, Cupcake. Can’t wait to be inside you. Love your cute moans when I fuck you with my fingers. My Baby-girl.” Lloyd said breathlessly, and without shame he took pleasure in sucking your hardened nipple into his mouth. twirling his tongue around to savor your salty taste.

His hand snaked down, slipping past your thong, coaxing your aching needy sex. You moaned almost immediately, Lloyd paid attention to your swollen clit. His mustache hairs tickle the buttery soft flesh of your breast.

You couldn't help but open your legs wider and thrust your hips for some kind of friction. You needed him like you needed oxygen.

With a wet pop he released your nipple, snickering at the way you were so easily coming undone for him. An audible gasp sprung from your lungs, stemming from the force he used to thrust two girthy digits into you.

A low growl billowed from his chest. Feeling your insides made him dangerously hard. The sponginess of your g-spot, it made his mouth water.

Lloyd was relentless. His index finger and middle finger working you open. You could hear your heartbeat pumping hard with each beat loud in your ear. Each time he thrust his digits in, it took your breath away and made you melt around his fingers by the passing second.

Without missing a beat Lloyd came up to trap your gasping lips in a wet, sloppy, kiss. You swear you were losing brain cells now. You didn’t care who heard you. the only thing that existed was you and him.

Your muscles began to contract so sweetly, fuck it felt so good!

“Daddy! Fuck. MMMMM, Gonna cum!” you whined. A hot sear, quick, and without pain- only made you moan more. He had slapped your cheek. Maybe you were being a brat?

His pupils dilated, he loved being called Daddy. Almost as much as he loved seeing your pretty mouth around his cock.

“You need to ask permission to cum. Are you already dumb just from my fingers?” He already knew the answer to that question. You nodded your head, a tear starting to form. You wanted to cum so bad! you wanted to clench his fingers, but somehow you knew that wasn’t enough. You needed to get fucked senseless by his thick cock.

“D-D-Daddy!” you were so close.

“Daddy. What?!” Now he was thrusting harder than before, making you see stars.

“May I cum, please, Daddy?!!” you whined out, feeling yourself lose control. Lloyd’s bicep tensed, moving so fast, hard, and deep inside you that you forgot where you were.

“Cum on my fingers, my sweet dumb Cupcake.” His lips forming a sinister smile. Your head flew back, hitting the table with a thud, but it didn’t hurt. A sound escaped your mouth, the kind you had only heard in porn. Desperate, and at your limit, but begging for more.

A loud gasp came from your left, “Oh my god. Oh my god! What the fuck?!” You were so confused by this, you thrashed your head to the side where the sound came from. Seeing the source, you wanted to throw up and disappear all at the same time. She had seen you. No one other than Lloyd was allowed to see you, all of you. Your nakedness was only for him. Your rule, not his. One he kept very close to his heart.

His fingers were ripped from your center and you missed the feeling of being full. But all you could think about was her wide-eyed, staring at your naked form. She didn’t deserve to see you. You closed your legs, with shame building up inside you.

You immediately covered your breasts, and turned, facing the opposite way of Suzanne. Lloyd grabbed something from the table, something metallic.

“Stupid Bitch!! Gimmie a reason not to shoot you! Get out!!!” Lloyd cocked his gun, ready to anihilate whoever saw his precious Cupcake. The door closed quickly but the rage was already boiling over in his mind and his heart. However stone-like that heart may be. He would set the whole world on fire if it meant saving his Cupcake.

“MORON!!” he fired the entire clip into the door anyway. You flinched from his screaming. Triggering old wounds, long scarred over. You covered your ears from the ear-drum piercing sound of the bullets. It was never like the movies, it was always much louder.

Your chest heaved with every breath. You were hyperventilating. tears streamed down your face. She saw you. She saw you. You know she did. You saw that look on her face. That disgust. That shock.

Lloyd came into your line of sight, but it was like he wouldn’t register in your mind. His hands came over your shoulders warming them. And you continued to cry.

Lloyd gently took your hands away from your ears, “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Daddy ran the mean Bitch away. No one will see you now. Just me, Cupcake. Only for me.” he dotted your neck and shoulders, and hands with the softest kisses. Bringing you back from your dark headspace.

“Lloyd?” you asked. becoming more aware of his presence. He cracked a smile, but his eyes were still filled with concern.

"Heya, Sunshine." He smiled wider. One hand cradling your head and bringing you in for a hug. He knew you needed that pressure. To bring you back to him. You were far from the epitome of mental health, and frankly so was Lloyd. Maybe that’s what made you two mesh so well, despite being almost complete opposites.

“No one, saw me right?” you asked barely above a whisper, your eyes searching Lloyd’s face for confirmation; he’d never lie to you.

“Not a soul, Baby, I promise.” He reassured you. He picked you up and put you on a nearby couch. Sometimes the goons and clients liked convenient comfortability.

The cool genuine leather of the couch gave you goosebumps. Your body was still naked, but as long as it was just the two of you, you didn’t care. He started with a kiss. Romantic and soft, for once not fighting for dominance. You didn’t know which you liked more. Him manhandling you or being so utterly soft for you. Whatever the choice, it still made you undeniably horny.

Lloyd could tell you were back in the saddle, and took his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants, dragging them down slowly. He did enjoy teasing you. But he always gave in and gave you what you wanted or rather what you needed. and right now you needed him to fuck the worry away.

if it was one thing, Lloyd could take care of you. As he topped you, you were the one to pounce. You wrapped your legs around his sculpted, slim, waist. You felt his hardened cock firm against your pussy lips.

A wet sloppy kiss, smashed its way onto your lips. He was getting eager now. Maybe now it was more of a competition, now that you started to show some dominance.

A few grinds from your hips and muffled moans, made him take off his boxers. Both of you were completely vulnerable to the other, just the way you liked it. A soft gasp escaped your mouth as you felt the firm and warm flesh of his swollen cockhead. Somehow he was savoring that look on your face. frustraatingly slow he dragged his cockhead along your slick slit, tapping your clit a few times for good measure.

“Sorry Cupcake, I always knock when I enter.” it was done in one slow thrust, so that you could feel every thick inch Lloyd had to offer. Lloyd braced himself by putting his hands on either side of your head, on the armrest. He groaned low once he bottomed out, placing his forehead on top of yours, he closed his eyes.

“Daddy! Oh you feel so good when your inside me like that!” every word was laced with oxytocin. He began to drag out of you, only leaving the tip in, before thrusting hard, reaching new depths.

He groaned this time. The chokehold that you had on his dick was purely invigorating. Lloyd caught this kind of taste from you, and now he couldn’t stop. He needed more. He needed to regain his territory. His queen and partner in crime.

Every harsh thrust of his hips had you seeing stars. Something within you had snapped. like a voracious appetite, you wanted every piece of him he could offer. You wanted to feel yourself melt from him releasing inside of you. God you loved that feeling of being full.

Lloyd moaned louder this time, you could tell he was close. You wrapped your arms around his back, raking your long nails down his porcelain skin. Your eyebrows stitched together from his cockhead banging against your cervix unapologetically.

“Fuck! You’re gripping me so good. Fuckin’ love you. God Damn! got me drunk from your pussy. ohhh. love that sweet d-irty sound you're making." Lloyd expressed himself quite clearly. his pace changed, and any second now you were going to lose it. the wet sloshing sounds turned you on too.

You could hear the couch creak beneath you, his thrusts becoming more animalistic. But you loved it.

“Daddy!!-” you gasped urgently, but Lloyd knew exactly what was happening.

“Cum Baby! Fucking cum on my cock!” he grunted out. the coil that had been building up in your stomach finally released, with a loud moan, your sweet juices covered his lower abdomen and upper thighs.

“That’s my girl! That’s how my Cupcake fuckin’, uggh, takes it. Shit! Take it Baby. Take every drop!” you had never seen Lloyd so passionate before. The warmth from his seed spurting into your deepest parts, was making you maon all over again.

He didn’t bother pulling out. instead stayed inside you. Pulling your cock drunk body against his and letting you lay on top of him. You rested your head in the valley of his toned breasts. Euphoria sweeps through your mind as you giggled.

“You said you love me.”

“ Always, Cupcake. Always.” He gave you a wink as you looked up at him. making you giggle again, and nuzzling your cheek into his warm skin. You’ll sleep very well tonight. And you couldn't wait what was in store for the two of you tomorrow.

end part 1

+++++ Please comment if you liked it.

Taglist:

@imaginedreamwrite, @sebsgirl71479, @buckysteveloki-me, @bwunnysworld,

#lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x cupcake #lloyd hansen x innocent!reader #the gray man #chris evans role

[ingo-in-places-he-shouldnt-be]

Happy 2000-- er... 2400 followers! I suppose this is what I get for overestimating how long it would take me to do two full bodies and 14 busts which I wound up cropping anyway lol.

Bonus commentary under the cut!

Link to the version with no commentary (x)

So first off, this was a considerable challenge for me since I don't normally draw in an anime style, and I think that shows. There were a lot of wonky proportions that I ended up having to go back and sort of fix in post. Irida, Rei, and Akari were especially bad-- my own sister told me that Rei looked like "a cross between a Victorian orphan and a frog". I decided to redraw all three of them, but since I drew them on a smaller canvas, I think it messed with the resolution a little when I shrank them down. I'm not sure anyone would notice if they weren't looking for it, but I've been staring at this for so long that I can't unsee it.

Next was the brilliant decision to put Emmet, Elesa, and Drayden on a light background. They initially faded right in, so I went back over some of the outlines to make them more readable; I had also tried putting the whole Unova set on a darker background, but found that it drew too much attention and unbalanced the piece.

On to the good things!

I adore how Melli and Zisu turned out. I don't know what it was, but my art game was on point that day.

I also had a lot of fun trying out different motifs. I knew from the outset that I wanted to play around with the duality of black/white, the duality of past/future, and the idea of making the whole disk resemble a PokéBall. The center design had me stumped for a while; I had initially used screenshots of the Highlands and Gear Station as placeholders during my planning stage, but around halfway through I decided that would be too busy and changed it to a simple railway track design instead. Then I decided I didn't like that either, and at the last minute I went back to a simplified version of my original concept. I think the stylized Coronet mountain range and subway train work nicely.

Other trivia:

During my planning phase, I used everyone's official art as placeholders-- except for Zisu, who for some reason I couldn't find any for. I used a screenshot for her placeholder, and referenced her TCG card for the final drawing.

Emmet being the only character drawn from a head on angle was deliberate. I wanted to subtly highlight his importance while still being able to place a key Pokémon in the center of both groups.

I drew all of my initial sketches on paper, lined and colored in Clip Studio, and compiled/edited everything in GIMP. I am a chaos gremlin and I will not apologize.

The reason I settled on a Station of Awakening as a follower celebration is threefold: The first is that I was hanging out with some good friends, and we wound up playing Melody of Memory. I forget exactly how it came up, but it was definitely a joke at the time as I do recall saying that it would take me forever... which it did, lol. The second reason is that I later realized that my first post on the blog (after the original "Ingo shouldn't be in old timey Hisui" (x) post) was Kingdom Hearts themed (x). The circle of stupidity is complete! And finally, I'm old enough to remember when making one of these for your blorbo was The Big Fandom Thing ™ that everyone did, and I wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

#my art #I'll keep this version out of the main tags so I'm not spamming #I'll add links to the other version of either post in a sec

[hello-nichya-here]

There is such a strange obession with always having to humble Michael Jackson.

He fits like the extrem case of a Tall Poppy Sydrome.

1# His brothers (Jermaine) how they say he wouldn't be Michael Jackson without the Jackson 5. Kind of dismissing his talent and wanting them to be a part of his success.

2# People who claim Joe beat talent into Michael. And is success is thanks to his abuse. If that was the case. What went wrong with the others then?

3# The constant comparsions with todays artists. Who not only benefit from the streaming era but are also way below him talent wise or impact wise. Taylor Swift, The Weeknd, Bruno Mars, Drake, Chris Brown... Them naming new King of Pops like Justin Timberlake, Justin Bieber, Ed Sheeran, Harry Styles. The comparsions can be looked as a compliment that he is looked as the standard or as an insult because they try to dismiss him and put him om the same level as these artists not respecting he is a league on his own..

#4 These stupid lists billboard or rollingstone put out ranking him ridiculously low. Like tf you mean Michael number #86 on the best singers list. Or the 20 best Halloween songs doesn't involve Thriller eventhough it's the most recognizable one.

#5 Claiming Eagles Greatest Hits was the best selling album of all time back in 2018. Eventhough it was only in the US. ( allegedly) But of course these trash tabloids had to make it look like it was the world.

#6 The stupid allegations. If they put any effort into reading would know are bs. When their smear campaign failed they just made it look like "separating art from the artist" bs.

#7 Them reporting other artist broke his record. Eventhough it isn't comparable. You can't compare Drakes shitty number ones who are mostly features in it or he features in them to Michaels number ones where he is mostly on his own and also wrote most of it. The songwriting is also something they can't believe and try to dismiss aswell. Also Drake has the benefit of the streaming era. Michael didn't. Aint nobody buying a bus tickets to drive 15 minutes downtown and purchase an album of Drake.

Their pathetic attemps really knows to bound. They would literally choke if they just admit he is the greatest.

The one about his father's abuse being the thing that "made him what he was", as well as the unfair slander against MJ for accusations that were so ridiculously they were laughed out of court are, by far, the ones that piss me off the most.

Joseph abusing his son was not the reason why Michael was the greatests, it was one of the many reasons why we lost him so soon. I'm always EXTREMELY suspicious when people try to push that kind of narrative of "abuse is not that bad and has positive consequences if you're not a crybaby", especially when it's someone in a position of power, because it just screams "I want to get away with exploiting people AND I want to be praised for it."

The lies of "Michael was a pedophile" are just the kind of stuff that breaks my heart and makes me furious. And I gotta laugh when the same people that tried to destroy MJ because of stuff they KNEW was bullshit now pretend it never happened or, like you said, use the "separate art from the artist" argument. It just proves that Michael had earned so much respect from both the public and the few decent people in the industry, AND was so fucking talented, that those idiots were eventually forced to realize that they would have made much more money celebrating him than they ever made by tearing him down

And we all know THAT is why they did it, the good old business model of "Give the public a great icon, then tear said icon to pieces in front of them." The people that are still on the hate/devalue MJ train are split between people that are too proud to admit they fucked up, and the people that built their entire lives around telling the public which popular thing is actually not that good (be it in a "I'm too good for stuff that the masses like" way or in a cancel culture type of way).

Plus, we all know Michael was not afraid to openly trash the media and even his own record label when they pissed him off enough, and you just know some rich assholes that are not used to people talking shit about them and getting away with it and still hold a grudge for it.

As for the comparisons with modern idols - it's not just things like streaming that make said comparisons not just unfair, but downright nonsensical.

The very fact that people will go "Oh, this person is the new Michael Jackson/King Of Pop" is already a contradiction. The reason Michael has the status he has is because there WASN'T a "king of pop" before him. He had people who influenced him and there were artists that were HUGE, sure, but there was no one that fit the role of "The MJ before MJ" so to speak. The closest "match" I can think of is Beatle Mania, and even then, that was a group. Even when people talk about the "most important/famous" Beatles, it's always Lennon AND McCartney.

Michael Jackson's fame as a solo artist was on the level of "People legitimately did not fucking know someone could be this famous" and to this day nobody has done it again - which is a big deal since, like you pointed out, it is a lot easier to have acess to an artist's work now.

And yet everytime one of today's artists is called "The new king/queen of pop" in some internet article it just never catches on... yet the title of said articles DON'T have to add a "(Michal Jackson)" after saying the words "King of Pop" because if you know these three little words, you know the ONE person they refer to.

Another important factor here is that all of these "new coronations" so to speak happen literally every year - to more than one artist. We are TOLD "this random music critic saying this about this artist is a big deal" but it doesn't match what we're SHOWN because, again, to reach Michael's level of fame, one would need to be literally "The only artist that matters, everyone elsa can just fight for the title of second best." If everyone is "the new MJ" then no one is, not really. At most they're just "Super popular artist" and there's nothing wrong with that.

Things like the internet and streaming have also made the term "fifteen minutes of fame" much more literal than it ever was. So sure, you easily find people that went viral - but how many of them had any real, lasting sucess? How many times did an artist do something cool that pushed to everyone all over the globe, and then just a month later they were a has-been?

And even the well-stablish artists of today, even though who started really young, don't have the same kind of long career Michael had because most artist don't start singing at the age of five, spend their entire childhood and adolescence gaining more and more fans, and then spend their adulthood as the biggest thing ever because they put out the first AND second best selling albums of all time. Michael had already been performing, and been absurdly famous, for nearly two decades when he finally released Thriller - which just got a 40th anniversary edition because even after four decades since it's debut, and 14 years since Michael letf us, he is STILL such a powerhouse that the world just had to celebrate his music once again.

Comparing that to artists that have only had one or two decades in the industry is ridiculous because of course they're gonna lose, just like their modern songs are obviously going to be front and center instead of the ones made decades ago, from an artist that is deceased and whose sales did not benefit from streaming, or even CDs, for a long time. And once again, the fact that Michael STILL has a presence on Spotify, Youtube, TikTok and literally very platform ever speaks volumes of just how solid his legacy is. Meanwhile all these singers he's being compared to are still making stuff that will one day become their legacy. It's comparing apples to oranges.

And since I mentioned the (ungodly evil thing) that is TikTok, that brings me to yet another major difference between MJ fame and modern fame: how artificial it all has become. Don't get me wrong, musical trends and popular "formulas" to make a hit have always existed, but things today are often SO calculated to have "viral qualities" (a part the is guaranteed to become popular on TikTok, never going over a specific length, everything needing either a sped up version or a slow reverb version, etc) that they might as well have been made by algorythm.

Meanwhile, Michael became the biggest singer ever because the priority when making anything was to make sure it was GOOD, no matter the style, length or topic of the song. Michael often said his approach when making records was to have no songs you can skip - compare that to artists and labels trying to make 20 seconds of a song catchy to blow up on TikTok, rest of the thing be damned, and you have yet another reason why MJ's legacy is solid, while plenty of promising new artists disappear overnight.

And, finally, we that brings us to the final difference between Michael and plenty of artists today: how he COMPLETELY altered the industry, in every way.

Michael Jackson is the reason why Superbowl performances are a thing, why music videos have all kinds of cool aesthetics and even enough plot to be considered short films instead just being an artist dancing to their own tunes on camera. He was the first black artist to ever have his music videos air on MTV. Fans passing out during his concerts was a regular thing. Plenty of artists all over the globe have him as a reference to how they should sing, dance, dress, or even just stand on stage because Michael had such presence he could stand on stage without moving for an entire minute then slowly, dramatically remove his sunglasses, and people would still be screaming their heads off.

Once again, let's look at Beatle Mania: it was a level of fame nobody had seen before, for artists that were breaking all the rules. But nowadays a group of young men playing love songs and having seemingly every teenage girl in the country following them around is nothing out of the ordinary, and while their songs are still fantastic, plenty of bands over the decades have done awesome things with rock music that are just as revolutionary, if not more.

Meanwhile, Michael is still THE reference, and his music is still the definition of "quality." If you hear his biggest hits, you can totally tell which bits modern singers were inspired by - yet if you didn't know who he was, you could wrongfully assume some of these songs are modern because they were SO ahead of their time they still sound groundbreaking today.

Seriously, there's a reason NONE of these artists that was ever compared to Michael tried to actually claim his title: saying you're as good as him is one hell of a bold claim that gives people a ton of impossibly hugh standards that you better meet, without flaw and making it look effortless, otherwise you look like the most arrogant person who has ever lived - and nobody wants to deal with that kind of pressure.

#asks #michael jackson #king of pop

[nikolai-alexi]

A little while back you did piercing hcs for the marauders and co could you do that with tattoos? 😁

Oh babes, absolutely! I love this idea and boyyyy do I have Thoughts about this

So sorry this took so long! I had to work on it in between back to back shifts at work. Let me know what you think of these!

Tattoos & Styles I HC The Marauders & Co With (and this time someone asked for my brain rot!)

James

Okay, so James is definitely a pincushion. He absolutely let Sirius use him as a practice mannequin when they were first learning how to tattoo so he’s covered in varying different tattoos of different styles and skill level. I think James has kinda always been covered in Sirius’ art, bc he absolutely let Sirius draw on him during class. So when ink pens turned to tattoo guns, James and his zero fear of permanence didn’t bat an eye at being used as a practice dummy.

On his right forearm, he has a matching tattoo with the Marauders. It’s a stag’s head, with a rat sitting on it, the Sirius constellation between the antlers, and a halfmoon behind it.

On his right bicep, he has a half sleeve. I HC James as Desi and Hindu, and that tattoo is a Mehndi design James created with an elephant in the foreground. He had Sirius do it, ofc, and it took like 4-6 sessions to get it done because Sirius was absolutely fixated on making sure it was perfect

Regulus gives him a stick and poke (like a legit one, not an ink pen insert and a needle one) and it’s of a stag with a cat playing in its antlers. It’s on the inside of James’ right ankle. He’s constantly pestering Regulus about doing more

When Effie and Monty pass (of very very old age and only that of course), James has Sirius create a memorial piece for them. They incorporate a lot of meaningful things in it for James; one of Effie’s own Mehndi designs, a crow (the messenger between the lands of living and dead as well as Effie’s favourite animal), Monty’s favourite book quote written in Punjabi, and a bunch of little symbols that represent them both. James and Sirius both sobbed through that entire tattoo. It rests right on top of James’ heart and spans most the left side of his chest

James is kind of a mess of different styles and skill levels, and is basically just covered in a bunch of small tattoos. He collects one on every holiday, pretty much any time Sirius is bored, or whenever something significant in his life happens. He’s just a living sticker book of art, basically

Marlene, Pete, and James each have their childhood house numbers tattooed on the inside of their left wrists. James’ is 421

Sirius

Sirius still has their runic tattoos and the chest tattoo, because I cannot physically make those not a thing. I love them so much

Down the back of their left arm, they have the cycles of the moon

Paw prints of a wolf and a dog, everywhere. Side by side down their spine, around their runic tattoos, down the side of their legs, etc.

Banding. There’s so much banding. Esp on their forearms! From super thin to super thick banding, it’s all over Sirius’ body. They have one set of banding that goes around their waist and it drives Remus crazy

Magic tattoo or not, Sirius absolutely has the Marauder’s Map footsteps all over them

Obviously they have the Marauders Tattoo too. It’s on the right side of their ribcage.

I think a lot of Sirius’ tattoos that they didn’t do themselves are runic. Protection runes, mostly, but all kinds of different runes in multiple runic languages (I HC Sirius as being a total Ancient Runes nerd)

All the tattoos Sirius did do on themselves are more like doodles than actual tattoos. Something popped in their head, they had time to spare, so they did it real quick. There’s not a lot of thought behind those ones

There are a bunch that are representative of the people in their life, though. Like they’ve got Regulus’ constellation, Alphard’s constellation, Andy’s constellation. They’ve got rat paw prints and deer hoof prints, James’ quidditch/footie/lacrosse jersey number, chess pieces with whiskers or a tail, chocolates stacked on top of books, etc.

They’ve got their own kind of memorial tattoo for Effie and Monty (they didn’t feel like they could use Effie’s Mehndi design because they’re not Hindu and there was a lot of guilt and stuff they needed to deal with before they could even bring themselves to do the memorial tattoo and James was ready to lose his mind because when his mum said that Sirius was her child no matter what, she didn’t mean that they were only her child if they became Hindu themselves. There were lots of conversations about that)

There really isn’t much open space on Sirius’ body lmao they just constantly tattoo over things and all sorts of chaos

Remus

Where Sirius is very chaotic with their tattoos, Remus is very methodical. It’s not that his tattoos can be read like a book or anything, he just puts a lot of thought into his tattoos. He dedicates limbs and areas of his body to certain things. He doesn’t just get an idea and slap it somewhere. It might be a control thing, it might not be, who knows. It’s just the way he does things

Has the Marauder tattoo on his left thigh

You know the chest tattoos with the hands? Remus has one, except the left hand is holding a can of petrol and the right one is holding a zippo

Remus’ right sleeve is almost patchwork, but it’s like a blended patchwork? I’m not sure how to describe what I think of when I think of his right sleeve, but basically, it’s a significance piece. His right sleeve is basically the places in his life that have left an impact on him. The house in Wales where he grew up, the fork his Mam swore up and down was lucky, the couches in the Gryffindor common room, and the brickwork fireplace. Candles from the Great Hall float all around his arm, the spot James showed him behind the Quidditch bleachers where he carved his name into the wood when he was high, the broken piano in the Shack that Sirius always tried to play, the door number to Sirius’ and his first flat, the uneven second hand kitchen table with tea cups on it they put in their kitchen. The castle itself. The forest. Everywhere that makes an impact on Remus’ life gets immortalised on his arm.

I am a firm believer that Remus would refuse to get anything wolf/dog related inked, but you bet he has stars all over. Sirius’ constellation is tattooed over his heart

I’m also a huge believer that Remus is a classics nerd, so his left side is dedicated to classic mythos and literature references. He’s got gods and goddesses and stories inked into his skin like it’s his arm that tells their stories, not the books themselves. He’s got Hades and Persephone reaching for each other between the worlds, Orpheus and Eurydice, and Achilles, Patroclus and the Trojan Horse. He and Regulus have a whole geek out when they realise they each have a mythos tattoo

Similarly to his mythos sleeve, I think Remus, especially growing up in Wales and with Hope as his Mam, give off big mythological creature nerd vibes (excluding werewolves, obvi). Like you cannot tell me that little bitty Remus Lupin was not a dinosaur kid. So his right leg is all mythological creatures. Kind of on theme with his sleeve, a lot of them are Greek, like Chimera, Pegasus, and a Sphinx. But he also has an Afanc, Tylwyth Teg (Welsh interpretation of Fae/Faeries), and an Adar Llwch Gwin (a griffin-type of bird, with the head and wings of an eagle and of a cat)

His left leg is sort of open, it’s where he puts things that don’t really have a “place” or when he runs out of space on his sleeves

Peter

Marlene, Pete, and James each have their childhood house numbers tattooed on the inside of their left wrists. Pete’s is 439.

Has the matching Marauder’s tattoo with James, Sirius, and Remus on his left bicep

He’s not necessarily opposed to getting more tattoos, but he pretty much just gets them with his friends. He feels like he’s too indecisive to just get one

Marlene

Marlene’s tattoos are chaos. There’s no rhyme, reason, or order to them. They could be super meaningful or they could be a rabbit wearing a fancy suit with a top hat balancing on a unicycle and frogs stuffed in the pockets (that one’s on her left thigh. she has no recollection of when or where she got it)

She has identical outline of cats around both of her nipples because she thought it’d be hilarious to have a “titty tat of a kitty cat!”…I’ll give you three guesses as to who did that for her and the first two don’t count.

Marlene, Pete, and James each have their childhood house numbers tattooed on the inside of their left wrists. Marlene’s is 465.

Marlene is the kind of person to walk into a shop and go “I have £100, what will that get me”. Her body is hers to decorate and she’s doing it with a fuck ton of permanent stickers

She has a matching tramp stamp with Evan, Barty, Dorcas and Tillie. It’s the absolute worst thing she has tattooed on her and she adores it.

She’s really just covered in flash work. There’s some traditional tattoos, with old school card suits and flowers on her shoulder. There’s neotraditional pieces, with the overlapping sun and moon on her hip. There’s lots of fineline, a dragon wrapping around a bouquet of poisonous flowers on her sternum. There’s a wacky sort of tribal/geometric half sleeve on her right calf. She’s got fun little watercolour pieces decorating her arms. She’s got a blackwork geometric piece that goes around her stomach that’s all negative space and shading details and no one can agree one what everything is or isn’t (she won’t tell anyone the answers either).

She has a very tiny snake and lion behind each of her ears

She has a mandala tattoo that goes across the back of her head, but you can only see it when she has an undercut in her hair

Mary

Mary is a fun one. She’s definitely a tattoo fiend, but while she’s not methodical like Remus and Regulus are, she’s not chaotic like Barty and Marlene are with them.

She’s got a lot of different things, a bunch of muggle references, a lot of Wizarding references

Couple of fun floral pieces

Something about Mary just screams “forest” piece to me. I think she’s got a sleeve that’s all themed after the Forbidden Forest and it’s all done in realism. Very spooky but also very beautiful

Not to make this heartbreaking, but if canon compliant Mary got one tattoo before she obliviated herself, I think she would have gotten a tattoo of Hogwarts with a compass, because even though Hogwarts was the source of her trauma and pain, a part of her would always feel at home there. So when she knew she was going to obliviate herself, she got herself something to find home with, should she ever need it

Solar System. Mary strikes me as a closeted Astronomy and astrology nerd. I think she’s got a solar system tattoo, straight down her spine, and a galaxy tattoo on her ribs, and then maybe the astrology signs somewhere?

Matching butterfly tattoo with Lily, Mary’s is a Monarch

Lily

Lily, loml, she’s a watercolour babe 10000%

She doesn’t have a ton of pieces, but she gets a few every now and again

Fineline watercolour girlie for sureeee and we love her for it

She says she doesn’t like floral pieces, but she has one on her sternum, however it absolutely does NOT have lilies in it

Miss Girl absolutely has one of those fineline tattoos with the stack of books with a tea cup on top of them and the steam looks like magic, you know the ones I’m talking about? And it’s like in her inner forearm right by her elbow

Has a matching butterfly tattoo with Mary, Lily’s is a Swallowtail

Regulus

Has a bottom lip tattoo that says “CUNT”. It was his first tattoo and his second ever act of rebellion against his parents (his first being his nipple piercings). Barty came up with the idea to have them all write down a word and then pick it out of a hat and that’s what they’d get tattooed. Barty and Evan could not stop laughing when Regulus pulled out his.

Regulus is very similar to Remus in a way. His tattoos are all very organised and thought out, minus a few impulse ones with his friends or Sirius and the Marauders

Regulus really favours abstract, geo, and blackwork styles, with a bit of fineline influence in some pieces. He doesn’t have a single colour tattoo, strictly black and grey.

His left arm is all bold lines, sharp angles, heavy black work, and lots of negative space. He got it right after he got unofficially disowned, used the bank account his parents cut him off from as a last “fuck you” to them and it kind of represents his inner turmoil during that time of his life. He did the sleeve in one session, it took 13.5 hours and his artist took more breaks than he did. If that gives you an idea of how his mental state was at the time

His right arm is lighter, less harsh lines and negative space, more open linework. Lots of geometric patterns that feed into each other shoulder to wrist. There’s still some inverted shading and negative work, but for the most part, it’s fairly open. There’s a lot more diversity in his right sleeve than his left, stacks of shapes and a bunch of 3D shading, the linework seems to twist and turn with his arm, rather than go against the grain of his body like his left does.

His chest piece is his absolute favourite of all his tattoos. He and Barty started on it almost immediately after he got the all clear from Drs/Healers after his top surgery. The tattoo is of a Boomslang snake, and it weaves in and out of his surgery scars like it’s entering and exiting his body from under his skin. It slithers all the way around his chest, ribs, and back, before it curls over his shoulder and it’s head comes right to his heart. It’s jaws are open, and it looks like it’s striking at his heart. Throughout the scales, the use of heavy blackwork and negative space carves out the words “Le monstre n'a pas peur de ce qu'il deviendra” or “the monster does not fear what it will become”. It was one of the most painful tattoos Regulus has, because his top surgery scars were still healing, but the tattoo and the fact that it was Barty who did it made it so incredibly worth it

His left leg has a full sleeve on it, and it’s super dope. The whole sleeve is based off of animals with magical or supernatural tales about them. The sleeve is almost done like a totem pole, but the faces are done half in geometrics and half in inverted shading. He has a fox, a coyote, a cat, a vulture, and a bat

His right leg is where all of his impulse tattoos go. Or where he lets Barty and Sirius practice. There’s a lot of small pieces and some larger ones. Sirius did a piece on his thigh that’s a realistic portrait of a lion, except the Regulus constellation covers it’s chest. Barty did another piece with a dog and the Sirius constellation on his calf.

He has a tattoo of Icarus with his wings melting and falling from the sky on the right side of his rib cage

He wants to do a back piece and fill in his torso at some point. Give him 3-5 years to make up his mind and not over think it lmfao

Barty

Blackwork. So. Much. Blackwork.

If he’s got tattoos in a magical fic, his entire left forearm is a blackout. Then the rest of that sleeve is an inverted sleeve with negative space

Has a snake that starts on his sternum, wraps around his neck, under his right arm, over his shoulder and ends on his chest. Done in blackwork style also

His right sleeve is a bit of a mashup. He’s got some blackwork and negative space, but also a bit of fineline work.

He has a neck and face tattoo. It’s on the left side, and it starts near where his shoulder meets his neck then goes up his neck, and around his head and ear. It’s a rose bush. (If it’s a magical tattoo, the different coloured roses bloom and close at different times depending on Evan’s moods)

On his right hipbone, Evan tattooed “ROSY” on him

He has a galaxy and constellation tattoo on his left thigh, it’s the only other coloured tattoo he has besides his rose bush one. He got it for Regulus when he officially changed his name after coming out as trans

His legs are full of small tattoos he did himself. He started tattooing to piss his father off, so some of them are really dumb or badly done, but it’s so on brand for him that he touches them up from time to time just to make sure they stay. The tattoo he’s most proud of though, is Regulus’

I think his ribs and torso are pretty covered, probably a mix of random flash art he thinks is cool when he’s in the shop and more floral designs with snakes.

He absolutely has knuckle and hand tattoos, but for the life of me I cannot decide what exactly they’d be. Part of me really thinks he would do a nod towards Hogwarts and do a snake, an eagle, a badger, and a lion and just do symbols on his knuckles. The other part of me thinks he’d do something ridiculous like “PLAN” on his right hand and “AHEA” on the left just because he’s Barty and why wouldn’t he do shit like that

He has a matching tramp stamp with Dorcas, Marlene, Tillie, and Evan because they were all high as a mf and thought it would be hilarious (it is, in fact, hilarious and the most 70s tramp stamp ever)

Has a bottom lip tattoo that says “SLUT”

He wants to do a massive back piece (talking like shoulders to thigh), but hasn’t decided 100% what he wants to do, so hasn’t done it yet. But once that’s done he’s going to have very little open skin left to tattoo

Evan

On his right hipbone, Barty tattooed “BEE” on him

Has a bottom lip tattoo that says “WHORE”

I cannot stress enough how much of a new school vibe I get from Evan. Like this mf gets just the weirdest shit tattooed on him

Rose bush, but all the flowers are skulls. It takes up like all of his torso and rib cage. There’s also a bunch of vines and poisonous plants tangled in there. Somehow it simultaneously does and doesn’t at all fit his vibe

Dragon. Giant, wrapping, dragon. Takes up his entire right leg from the top of his foot up his hip. The dragon’s head wraps up around his thigh and arsecheek then over his hip bone and is blowing smoke right at his naval. He thinks he’s funny.

He and Pandora have a double helix DNA tattoo. Evan’s is on the outside of his left hand

Pandora

Had a bottom lip tattoo that says “PSYCHO” (Barty was PISSED when she got this one until he pulled his out and then wasn’t quite as mad. He did try to get Evan to tattoo his upper lip with it so he could be “Psycho Slut” which he thought was very on brand)

Pandora is also very new school vibe for me. I feel like she would absolutely get all of her creatures tattooed in a new school style and then have a really abrupt fineline piece here and there. It kinda makes your head spin, but that’s the whole point of it

Pandora and Evan have a double helix DNA strand tattoo. Hers is on the outside of her right hand

Has a giant realistic thestral on her thigh

Moths, lots of really cool fineline tattoos of different moth species (idk she strikes me as a bug girlie)

Dorcas

Has a bottom lip tattoo that says “BITCH”

Has a massive sword tattoo down her spine

Right sleeve is an ivy sleeve, it’s just vines and wrapping around her arm and hand. Some of it goes between her fingers and under her arm

Has a lot of Japanese Traditional style tattoos, the Yin and Yang koi fish on her thigh, cherry blossoms up her left calf, phantom Samurai on her ribcage

On her right calf she has a tattoo of a witch being burned at the stake, very haunting, very cool

Amelia

Has a balance tattooed on her inner left wrist and a gavel on her inner right wrist

Has a matching tattoo with Emme and Tillie of a stack of TNT on her hip

I think Amelia keeps her tattoos covered for the most part. They’re really important to her, but they’re definitely FOR her, ya know? Idk, that’s just the vibe I get from her

Emmeline

Has a matching tattoo with Amelia and Tillie of a stack of TNT on her hip

Something about Emme just screams floral tattoos to me. I think she definitely has a sleeve (or two) of mostly floral tattoos. It feels like a really nice dichotomy between how much of a badass she is (either as an Auror or firefighter or whatever kickass occupation she has) and how soft and kind she can be. I really see her having a sleeve on her right leg that she absolutely gets done in black and grey so her godbabies can colour her flowers in whenever she babysits them

Tillie

Has a matching tattoo with Emme and Amelia of a stack of TNT on her hip

Has a matching tramp stamp with Evan, Barty, Dorcas, and Marlene, she has zero recollection of getting it but every time she has to see the unfortunate thing, she can’t help but laugh. She vows to never get high and get tattoos with them again, but she absolutely fails at that

Shark tattoos. Like so many. Whale sharks, hammerheads, great whites, black tips, nurse sharks, shovelnose, etc. There’s just random little tiny shark tattoos all over her and I’m obsessed with them

On the same theme, I think she also has an ocean theme leg sleeve. A full coral reef, mermaids, all kinds of fish, ofc there’s sharks, maybe a whale and definitely an octopus in there. The whole thing is done in full colour and goes from her ankle all the way up her hip and ends at the bottom of her ribcage

#regulus black #james potter #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #marauders era #jegulus #barty crouch junior #sirius black #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #lily evans #pandora rosier #tillie finnegan #amelia bones #emmeline vance #nonbinary sirius black #gender nonconforming sirius #welsh remus lupin #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #james & peter & marlene #james & peter & remus & sirius #regulus & barty & evan & dorcas & pandora #tattoo artist sirius black #tattoo headcanons for the marauders & co #rosekiller #wolfstar #marylily #dorlene

[greypetrel]

WIP Whenever

Tagged again by @shivunin and @daggerbeanart, thank you very much! I'm on holiday right now, so I'm a little bit slow and working traditionally but...

I found an Art Nouveau piece and thought that oh look that's Radha. And redrawn it on my sketchbook. And coloured it with watercolours. I have... A love/hate relationship with watercolours, but I haven't brought any markers with me this year to force myself to use them more. And since it's been a while since I've been wanting to do a couple set in Art Nouveau style with her and Aisling... Here. Your muse of Writing and History, Prophet's Laurel all around and PURPLE. The paper is blotchy and not the right one, don't mind that, OOPS.

DadWolf going on, page 5. This page has been... Something that picked me a little off the ground. I'll speak about it more when it won't come out as terribly sad and sappy. I'm looking at those bookshelves and shivering at the idea of colouring them, for now.

Not Dragon Age related, and I'll hope you'll forgive me... But yeah. I am a sucker for trash movies, and John Wick is... It's a trash movie with a lot of money and Keanu Reeves and I love the saga. The sketch on the left was drawn... I think in 2017 when I first saw the first movie and snickered a lot because in Russian he's nicknamed "Baba Yaga"... Which isn't really the boogeyman. It's an old witch that lives in the woods in Slavic folklore, in a tiny hut with chicken legs. And travels on a cauldron. I kept the chicken legs as a reference to the hut. But well I fount the sketch and thought to redraw it. Adding the dog because the dog is VERY important.

Writing-wise I'm a little slow at the moment, but here's a piece from Monster Fic that I don't know if I'll keep. The night right after the Arbor Wilds, Aisling got back, managed to quarrel awfully with Cassandra AND Cullen. Everyone is miserable.

Tagging: @transprincecaspian @zenstrike @scribbledquillz @heniareth @herearedragons @oxygenforthewicked @layalu and YOU who are reading this!

---

Abelas told her she shouldn’t really roam on her own in the Temple, particularly at night. The complex was built on the side of a cliff that opened on more forest down below, with gentle hills and mountains in the background facing west. In some places, where balconies had been long ago, the balaustrade had long fallen, leaving just openings on nothing: the incautious visitor could all too easily fall to their death.

But she was left with very little to do, after unloading Little Brother and setting up a camp in the big atrium for them… Four. Because it ended up that one of the Templars gave in for good, and didn’t really feel like going out. Not with the whole of the Inquisition army ready to jump on him. No one there could really disagree, and since the man -George, a burly man in his fourties, with a ruddy face that spoke of many laughters and evenings spent drinking with friends and eyes that still sparkled even if they were heavily rimmed in red- had been so quick in lowering his sword and yielding…

Aisling had given him one of the cots that were packed on her horse, insisted when he tried to say that no, that was hers, and just… Curled around her saddle, using it as a pillow and rolling herself in a blanket side by side with Radha, and allowed herself to cry.

Except, no tears came forth.

She was grateful of being there, and opening her eyes, looking at remnants of a past long gone, something that every First would have killed to find. Something that poor Taven actually died to find. It’s huge, it’s been kept in wondrous state… And it’s inhabited. It’s inhabited, and she has the way to ask to her heart’s content.

And yet, all she can think of is that the Herald of Andraste would be up in a camp on the top of a hill, after a round of greetings and congratulations with the Empress, the Marquise of the Dales and all the nobles they rallied to the help. After that, she would have pretended to retire in her tent and slipped right out to slowly reach and sneak in the Commander’s one, and sleep curled against his warm frame, caressed by hands that were always cold, held and safe and loved.

And yet, she’s just Aisling, a Dalish mage that touched the wrong artifact and now has gained a unique ability, the mask has been left in her tent up the hill, and she feels giddy from both the sensation of having stood up for herself and the idea of all that she wants to ask to the elves there and explore and learn there. At the same time, tho, the giddiness is chased around by regret, the slimy feeling of being ignoring responsibilities, that she should be up there and doing her job, that she let everyone down. Nobody who stopped in the Temple was happy: Radha is angry because Morrigan drank from the Well, and both Aisling and Solas stopped her when Aisling turned down the chance. Solas is in one of his moods and hurt from Radha being angry.

Her heart beats too fast, her thoughts are too quick: she knows she won’t be sleeping any time soon, unless she does something. So, she lets go of the saddle, quietly slips out of the blanket and leaves on tip-toes, bringing the blanket with her and careful not to wake her sister up.

She saw the old balcony on her way to the baths, and even if there’s no more an old elven guide and the corridors are dark, she can find her way back with ease. The moon is shining up above between the canopies, and the corridors are large, easy to follow. She could maybe activate the magical lanterns that glows very dimly hanging from the ceilings, but on a second thought, she doesn’t know where the other elves sleep, here, and she doesn’t want to risk waking someone up and having to explain why exactly she’s walking around on her own. “I miss my boyfriend, but he believes I am the elven tool of the big plan of a deity I don’t believe in and so I can’t sleep” sounds too pitiful, and who knows whether they’ll approve of her being with a human.

She takes a couple of wrong turns, confused in the darkness, but in the end she finds the place she was looking for. The old pavement is broken, but bathed in moonlight, and even with the plenilune the stars are still shining, more than she can count. It’s beautiful and it’s terribly lonely, and Aisling wonders who was the last person that leaned into that balcony to see stars and enjoy the view. How many centuries passed, what were they thinking.

She curls in a corner, draping the blanket around her shoulders as she leans over the wall. One leg gets bent under the opposite knee, the other foot dwindling in the void. There’s a waterfall roaring nearby, an owl screeches somewhere in the distance, and a choir of crickets are there to lull her to sleep. The breeze is chilly, in spite of the day having been hot enough. It’s a perfect summer evening, and the stars are twinkling and she is not pretending anymore to be someone she isn’t, and she is alone.

Tears stars to fall, because she is not pretending to be someone or something that she isn’t, and the result is that she is alone. And Mythal, it feels like emerging from underwater, but keeping her breath has been so good and warm that she really thinks she could stay underwater forever.

It’s just tiredness making her think that way, she knows -she knows herself well-, the hour is very late and the day has been incredibly long, the choice she had to make a hard one, and one she doesn’t think was the right one. It’s everything, and it’s nothing, and she will feel a little better in the morning.

She lets the crickets and the owl lull her to sleep.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor lavellan #wip wednesday #dadwolf au #john wick #aislin lavellan #greypetrel #writing petrel

[pinkyjulien]

🟨 High Voltage: Out of the Art Block 🤙

FUCK IT. ART MASTERPOST. 🎨 Came to the realization that my art is now stuck on my old blog🤓 with no way of self-rebloging it since I cannot access my archives or even search up tags or words- Tumblr kinda SUCKS ASS NGL GFHH

I mentioned it *a lot* but both the game and Mitch got my ass out of a long art block and I'll forever be grateful for it 💙

Decided to drop all of my older art in one big post 🤗

Starting with a lil sketch collage up there- most of them became full pieces through the months!

▶▶▶

MY FIRST MITCH/VAL ART EVER. GHFH Started with this small sketch, way before I started making mods even 🤏Wanting V to kiss Mitch was actually the reason I got into modding ghfhgf It became one of my favorite piece of art still, evolved into their first canon kiss, in the tunnel to Mikoshi, right as Mitch was about to run to the panzer into his suicide mission 😩

Ugh can you tell I love doing linearts HGFH I find it so relaxing 😌 Cute lil "chibi"-esque stinkies (They're so cute printed out!!)

Movie night! 🎥 Somethin about Mitch showing his babe some of his favorites movies him and Scorp used to binge back in the day

Ouugghh this one I'm also really proud of, inspired by the tarot card, but it kinda evolved and became it's own.. thing ghfhgf whatever it is 🧡

Piece I did for last year's Pride month 🌈

A SILLY LIL THING ghgfh 😌 Hero of my heart mwah mwah

Not tooo happy with how those came out- but I still like them! Intimacy of the night, and an early visit in the netrunner tent 🤗

My latest "big piece"! God I had so much fun with that one, the composition, the colors, the overall vibes ghfghfh

AND OF COURSE Babies I finished yesterday 🤏

As y'all can PROBABLY NOTICE... WHATS AN ART STYLE? 🤡

Main reason as to why I never was comfortable opening any art commission, I simply cannot keep the same style, and I draw every 4 months when the art juice pop outta nowhere 🤏

IF YOU READ ALL THAT, I KISS YOU ON THE HEAD. 🤲🧡

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Mitch Anderson #Valentin Da Silva #Aldecaldos #OTP: High Voltage #MLM #My Art #long post #Mainly to still have my art accessible somewhere on my blog cause that legit made me MAD >:O SMHHH #personal

[mitochondriencocktail]

🎨

🌿

🎨 - link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

Ohhh man this is so tough. There's such a plethora of talented artists in the fandom. This might be a copout answer, but genuinely anybody who's been kind enough to make fanart of something I've written. It never ceases to be the highest compliment ever. The ones I've gotten for Hockey AU, Star!Bojan, Good Omens AU and even the Monsterfucker one are all so so so dear in my heart because it means that something I did inspired someone else, and it's this beautiful feedback loop of art and creating.

🌿 - give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

So I wanted to sit on this one for a minute today and not just give a ramble, as I'm prone to do. Writer's block and low creativity happen to nearly every artist across the board and anybody who says different is a liar. So, trying as best as I can, here are my top tips for writer's block and low creativity.

1. Read books: This is probably my biggest piece of advice. I think of this like putting fuel in the tank. You can't go for a run if you're not eating properly, and writing is the same way. Sure, you can read fanfiction, you can watch movies/tv, you can look at art. All of these are fine and great, but nothing gets the brain going the same way as when you read a published, edited book. Exploring genres and styles you don't typically go for can bring about a lot of inspiration and help you:

a) Feel reassured about your own writing habits and -isms when you see that skilled authors also have repeat phrases they like or certain quirks.

b) Find new things to test out in your own toolbox.

When you engage with literature, like really slow down and read and study what an author is doing, you're learning so so so much just through that simple act. It can also bring about great ideas too, which is why I suggest a balance of both fiction and non-fiction.

2. Find what works for you: This is a bit vague, but let me explain. Some writers thrive under consistency while others need variety. Some, like myself, need both. I know I consistently need a somewhat quiet environment where I can feel alone, but staring at a wall all day can get dull. Sometimes switching the font up on your document can help. Or changing the background color. Putting on new music. Sitting somewhere new. It's adapting to your mood that day and working with it.

3. Write even when you don't feel like it: We all have off days. A really common obstacle for people who go to the gym is that you go through periods where you LOVE going, but then you have periods where you absolutely loathe it. Writing is like that. The brain is a muscle and creativity is the skill you're honing. Some days you'll have a great workout, others you'll have a shit one. That's fine!

It doesn't mean you're shit. What matters is that you're showing up and staying consistent. When I'm having a 'shit' writing day, I say, "Okay, just write one sentence." Usually that turns into a handful, sometimes if I'm lucky it turns into a paragraph. But that's all I'll do for the day because, hey, we're not gonna churn out 2k+ words everyday. That would be insane. Sometimes 200 is plenty.

4. Let go of perfection: This one is tough... I know. But practicing the ability to turn off the little critic in our heads is sooooo important. It comes easier to some than others, but it's still a skill you can work on. It's kinda linked with what I wrote above, but sometimes you can just write like shit and that's fine. Chances are it's not as bad as you think it is, but powering through and getting something down on the page is better than nothing, even if it's just a garbled half-formed idea. You can always come back and fill things in later!

I hope some of this made sense! I'm always happy to chat craft with people :) It can be very subjective, but I do believe in the old adage regarding art that once you know the rules, you can break them.

#ask games

[jaskwritesthings]

I have a Dream x Hob prompt. I would love a fic where Hob talks about being in or having had a relationship with a man, dude's hundreds of years old and I refuse to believe he never tried this, and Dream is just lowkey being jealous. Maybe he knows why, maybe he doesn't either way he's just mad someone else got to know Hob in ways he hasn't. Would love it even more if Hob just gushes on without realizing that Dream isn't just being all regular dark and broody, he's in Advanced Darkness and wants a name and that name's worst nightmares. Thank you. I would just love to see our emo boy being all jealous.

tags: none

(ao3)

“You appear to have a fondness for this magazine?” Dream said as he admired the framed covers hung up on Hob’s walls. The style was new to him, more sketch-like than the art he’d seen before his imprisonment. The mixture of men, women and children looked like dolls in some ways, almost all of the individuals had ruby red cheeks and the faces were familiar enough to suggest a single artist behind all of the pieces. A faded handwritten tag named the artist as ‘J. C. Leyendecker’ below each print. 

“Hm? Oh, that. No, no interest in it, but the man who made the covers, old flame of mine. Damn good artist, couldn’t help but collect his pieces. Got a few originals tucked away,” Hob offered up just as easily as he did every aspect of his life for Dream.

Dream felt a flicker of something dark in his chest, it lashed out like the thump of a cat’s tail, a warning of its ire, “He drew for you?”

“Anything and everything, not just me. But he did paint me once or twice, can’t really loan those ones out to a museum though. People might catch on a bit, you should see what they say about Keanu Reeves,” Hob chuckled as he handed Dream a cup of steaming tea he’d been preparing as Dream snoped around his flat. 

“You remember this artist fondly?” Dream questioned softly, no longer admiring the work.

“Joseph? Very, I always try to remember the ones I love. Gets difficult over time, wish I’d never pawned Eleanor’s portrait, can’t really remember what she looked like anymore,” he sighed sadly, an old grief that Dream recognised in himself.

“I’m sorry,” Dream offered though he knew from experience the words were never quite enough.

Hob smiled, it wasn’t as bright as some of his previous ones, tinged as it was by an old ache that had never fully healed, “Not your fault, learned from my mistakes anyway. I try to keep some things from old loves.”

Dream turned his attention from his friend to the artwork proudly displayed in his living room. There was little else of note in the room that Dream could guess at having belonged to someone other than Hob. To hold such value in Hob’s heart, the relationship must have meant a great deal to the immortal. The dark thing in Dream’s chest thrashed its tail more, a growl growing deep within it. It unsettled him how the fact of this relationship could upset him so.

“You loved him dearly, to keep his works in your home,” Dream pointed out.

“I did. We parted well, not always the case. Plus his work is beautiful, not really a hardship to hang it up,” Hob admitted with ease, why wouldn’t he. Why was Dream expecting him to hide his love affairs as though they were something to be ashamed of? He never had. Nor should he have to hide them. But it still set him on edge, a strange anger bubbling under the surface.

“You do not keep the trinkets of others here, just his,” Dream said and even he could hear the coldness of his tone, the accusation he had no right to lay out.

Hob appeared oblivious to this new mood as he sipped his own tea, “I try to keep with the fashion of the times. Minimalism is a hard one to shake, glad we’ve moved on from the white interiors, right pain to keep those clean. Clutter’s coming back in so I’ll probably bring some more stuff out of storage, not everything mind you, some of it’s too fragile. These are prints, good way to have him here without wrecking his originals.”

“How long were you together?”

“Only a few years, I didn’t stay in America long, England’s home for me,” Hob smiled fondly, though for the memories of his former lover or of his homeland Dream couldn’t guess. A voice within him that sounded too close to his siblings whispered spiteful things he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Such a short time, yet a lasting impact,” Dream said, aiming for an aloof air and knowing he fell short by quite a distance.

“I seem to have a fondness for the quiet brooding ones,” Hob teased a touch tentatively as though worried he had a right to tease Dream anymore. 

“You found him not long after our parting,” Dream surmised and he wished he could take back the words as Hob’s face dropped into something colder at the reminder.

“You mean after you threw a tantrum and ran out on me making me think I’d never see you again?” Hob reiterated as he left Dream’s side to flop down on the overstuffed sofa. His absence left a cold bitter wind in its wake and Dream shrunk just a little into the folds of his coat.

“I have apologised -“

“And I have accepted that, as I hope you will accept the fact that I needed more than one friend that I only saw every hundred years,” Hob pointed out and the truth of his words irked Dream. He was right as he had been in the White Horse Inn all those decades ago. It didn’t appear it was getting easier to accept that he wasn’t always right. 

“I do not begrudge you your friendships,” Dream said, settling down into one of the armchairs, it hugged him and pulled him in. He shouldn’t be surprised by such comforts. Hob was a hedonistic creature, greedy for life and all it offered. His home reflected that in a way, comfort and warmth in equal measure. A sanctuary against the ever changing world that he could retreat too.

“But my lovers?”

Dream paused too long before offering a begrudging, “…nor them.”

Hob appeared unconvinced, rightly so, “Joseph was a good man, we loved each other.”

“I am glad,” Dream said, a pale offering that landed as heavy and as welcome as a brick.

“You hate him,” Hob said, lips twitching in amusement.

“I do not -“

“Calliope isn’t my favourite muse,” Hob interrupted and it was such a sudden change of subject that it took Dream a moment to process the absurdity of the statement.

“You dislike Calliope?” Dream asked slowly as though ensuring he had heard Hob correctly. Hob nodded.

“For the same reason you want to burn my art prints,” he explained and clarity snapped into place like a missing jigsaw piece.

“I do not wish to burn them,” Dream attempted to defend but it was a weak attempt.

“No?” Hob asked, almost laughing.

“…Perhaps replace them,” Dream admitted in a whisper he wouldn’t repeat if asked.

Hob heard him though, he seemed keenly aware of Dream in a way few were. He leant forward, elbows on his knees, as he fixed Dream with a warm, hopeful look. Dream suspected they had moved on from discussing art prints, “You can’t replace them. Any of them really. But you can join them if you’d like.”

#jask answers #the sandman #dreamling #dreamhob #i-will-find-an-untaken-url

[aceouttatime]

5, 9, 18, 19

Four different asks? Hell yeah!

(5. What’s your favorite size trope?) Oh, this is a difficult question--there are so many that I enjoy to bits! Overcoming adversity/fighting for equality and respect is definitely one of my favorites (ex., anything by @ratcatcher0325). I also love gentle giants, tinies that are far too smart for their own good, and good old hurt/comfort. G/t whump is always a good one, as well as the whole 'stranger in a strange land' trope (foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog over giant aliens). Finally, accidental/forced shrinking is so, so good. I live for angst. Apologies that these are in no order whatsoever XD

(9. What’s your favorite piece of sizey media?) For film, I have to go with Epic--I love the artistic detail and worldbuilding in that movie, especially considering it was geared more toward kids! Great pacing and loveable characters. What else could I ask for (other than a sequel *cough cough*)? I also love Arietty--Studio Ghibli movies are such comfort movies for me! As far as writing goes, I have a few different authors on Tumblr that have really lovely work! I’ll answer that in just a moment!

(18. Any favorite g/t content creators? People you wanna hype up?) HELL YEAH! I apologize in advance for the pings, but please, please, please go check out these awesome creators!  @not-a-space-alien pretty much got me into the g/t community with Thistle’s story! They have beautiful writing skills! I also really enjoy their whump series’ Magnanimous Moonrise and Savage Sunset! @belethlegwen has two of the sweetest characters I have ever had the pleasure of reading about. Henry and Melanie are two folks from very different backgrounds trying to make the best of a situation neither of them could have ever expected. And their flirting is so adorable--AUGH MY HEART! @ratcatcher0325 has written two different g/t pics that have stolen my heart: A Fraction of Justice and Nobody’s Fool! They are two of my absolute favorite works of all time--AFOJ is still ongoing, and I cannot wait to see how things play out for my fellow Alexander! @ayytaro-gt has some amazing content as well! Ugh, her art style is so soft and <3 It fills the void in my heart that longs for fluffy things. @imvenusasaboy is my partner in crime for all things Sylvan and Ari (g/t fic pending), and his art is so skrunkly in the best way possible. He has amazing music taste that I am gobbling up like coffee jelly, and he helps me with all sorts of world building things! (19. What’s your all-time favorite g/t daydream - the one thing you keep going back to?) Oh, boy, this is about to get a little personal, huh? Well, personally, I daydream a lot about being tiny. Sometimes while I’m falling asleep, I imagine being curled up on a giant’s chest and letting them play with my hair or trail a gentle finger down my back. I think that, above anything else, would make me content. I also think about Sylvan and Ari’s world a lot, personally, both for comfort and to help me get some writing down, so I suppose that counts as g/t daydreaming. But, uh, yeah. I just think being circa 3 inches tall would be nice. WHOOP that was a doozy. Thanks for the asks, whumpsday!

#aceouttatimeasks #g/t #g/t asks #g/t community

[threshasketch]

Wow, so apparently today is the 8th anniversary of me starting this art blog. I started Threshasketch in the September of 2015, and my main blog the year before in June.

In that time, I've gone through drawing OCs, fanart for numerous fandoms, traditional style line work and pencil sketches, digital line work and coloring, painting photo-real style, and so, so many chibi art pieces. Art has been my rock through some really hard times in my life. Posting cute chibis to brighten somebody else's day helped brighten mine.

Since 2015, my country has gone through three different presidencies, the world has gone through (and is still quietly going through) a global pandemic, and I've gone through years of struggling. Most of that struggling has been in the past 5 years, but boy does 5 years sound like a lot of time to be struggling for basic living things like heat and food.

Things were really bad just a few years ago. At one point I only had electricity four hours per day, because I couldn't afford gas for the generator. I uploaded digital art because "scanning" (taking pics of on my phone) traditional line art was hard when the place I was living was so dark. Patreon and art commissions were the only reason I had money for food on many occasions.

I've had to move three different times in the past four years. I got rid of or lost a lot of my belongings to live in a small space. Had to deal with rats in my living space twice in as many years. Had to take my 23-year-old cat to the vet to pass peacefully AND help my parents take their little dog with heart failure to the vet to pass peacefully in the same year.

Did I mention I had major abdominal surgery this summer with months of recovery time? Yeah. That actually went really smoothly. I didn't realize how bad my health was getting for the past few years because it was a gradual problem, but I was exhausted all the time, unable to do much physical activity, and super anemic. Just passed the two month mark since surgery, and am feeling so much better it's shocking remembering how bad off I was before. Cripes, I should have done this years ago.

So why, if art has been a coping method for me, has this blog had barely any updates for years? Well, I overextended myself on art commissions, which made my art escapism into a pressure thing. It's nobody's fault but my own, but several of those commissions did not get finished, and that made art into a guilty thing, so I sort of...shut myself down on Tumblr, because drawing for fun seemed wrong when somebody was waiting on me to finish their art piece. So I stopped drawing at all for a long while. That helped nobody—it just made it so that I wasn't warmed up enough to draw the commissions, either.

I'm just now getting to where I'm financially able to reach out to the people who paid me for commissions and refund them. I've refunded several already. If you are one of my art commission customers, you'll be hearing from me, I promise. I haven't forgotten you, I have every commission I ever took in a list saved on my computer.

Speaking of financially able, I'm no longer supporting myself with art and Patreon alone. For most of The Pandemic Years I've been pouring all of my creative energy into becoming a full-time indie erotica author. I write my own stories, I paint my own covers, I do everything myself. It's the most fun job I've ever had, honestly, and it's paying my bills. ♥

I've managed to build it up into a monthly income somehow, and this winter is looking a lot less terrible than last winter. In general, my living situation is now stable, the roof doesn't leak, the lights all work, hell I even have a functioning shower and the ability to have running hot water.

Anyway, yeah. It's been a rough go of it, and this art blog has been around through it all. I got a new art tablet for my birthday, and drawing feels like being carefree again. Here's to many more years of art. ♥

#8 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #art blog birthday #threshasketch #threshie #I wrote this out on the actual anniversary on the 8th and then put it in the drafts because I feared it was a vent post #but on re-reading it's just me being honest about how lousy things have been LOL #I think most people have had a rough go of things so I'm certainly not alone #anyway yaaaay happy belated art blog anniversary to me #coming back to Tumblr was a great decision #I have a lot of nostalgia attached to it ♥

[boobaloof]

Re Artist Ask : question 2 🤗 (I love your style, it's so unique and amazing 💖)

Aww thank you so much!! You're very kind.

2. 5 favourites of your own work?

Oof, tough question. My art has just recently started being consistent after so much practice, but my faves def go all the way back since I started.

My top fives are:

The hidden ember afternoon ereloy piece - Listen. I STRUGGLED HARD with that one. I tried capturing a nice moment between the two, and just getting to draw a simple yet tricky piece with an afternoon sky as the bg and an old one's structure to was great practice.

Horizon valentines cards - I got to play around with a different, paper-doll like artstyle and despite being hella hard it was actually nice to practice card design! Searing for the quotes to accompany each character was def fun.

The bearend series - I love the himbo and drawing him in a werebear au was incredible satisfying, I have always loved animals and the werebear au has a special place in my heart. I still got some pretty original ideas in my head about that one!

Animal crossing x horizon series - I LOVE animals, and drawing them lets me play around with fur and color patterns which I don't get to do when I draw people. Also, trying to make every character look like them in an animal body is hella tricky too. Its all about color palettes, eye shapes etc. Matching the species w the character is also very entertaining.

The Morbadund piece - It signified a new begining for me, since I tried to keep that one artstyle as my main one. Also, Morlund/Abadund is a hella cute ship!! They deserve more art.

#thank you for the ask! #I love talking about how much my pieces mean to me #while also giving some insight on how I build em up #bab-ask