#and now the color palette does not match AT ALL. But that's okay.

[captain-astors]

Memories of a kinder time. 

(Happy birthday to one of my favorite characters, Kuki! It’s still the 12th in at least one timezone okay, this definitely wasn’t last minute because I don’t know any of their birthdays.) 

#I initially intended to make this 100% fluff but the urge to make it sad won #and now the color palette does not match AT ALL. But that's okay. #kuki urie #urie kuki #tokyo ghoul #tg:re #quinx squad #tooru mutsuki #ginshi shirazu #mutsuki tooru #saiko yonebayashi #Haise isn't here because he took the picture (and I didn't want to draw another character) #my art

[38sr]

Hi! I really love the way you color, and I was wondering If you could make a tutorial about it, I of course completely understand if you Can't/don't want to do it thanks in advance If you decided to do it and have a good day/night.

Hello hello! Ooooh, a color tutorial! I've never done one before so I'm not sure if I'll be any good at it haha. But I don't mind sharing my thinking process when it comes to coloring my works. So when it comes to color, I very much have a traditional painter's approach since that's how I learned color in art college. My painting professor never allowed us to use black or white paint, we could only use other colors to create darker colors or new colors altogether. And you're probably thinking, "What the hell? That's insane." And I wouldn't blame you haha. But this approach helped me a lot to not rely on tints (colors mixed with white) and shades (colors mixed with black) when I color. For the most part, I purely thinking about value and hues when I'm coloring.

Finding the right values:

So for this drawing, I did two different takes (one with direct harsh lighting and one without). The reason why I'm showing this is because when it comes to color it's very important that your values aren't clashing with each other. When I started out, all my coloring felt flat because I was using colors with the same values so there was little to no depth. A lot of people don't realize this but color does have value!

If we put the primary colors on greyscale, you notice how each color has its own value. Blue tends to be a dark value, red has a mid to dark value , and yellow is a much lighter value. This is why if you ever look at my work, the color I use for shadows lean into blue/purple tones. You can also have warm shadows since red does have a deeper value compared to yellow. But these values are when the primary colors are at the highest saturation. What would happen if we knocked down the saturation levels?

The values start to become more similar. Since we're not always using the most saturated colors, it's important to understand the values behind the colors you'll use. Once you unlock that, you can pretty much do whatever you want with color haha. That's why I hardly ever use black or white in my digital art when mixing (also I don't mix color with a brush, I just pick from the color wheel which might be insane).

While it's not wrong to use white or black to create darker/lighter colors, color in real life doesn't always act that way. Shadows and highlights can have color. For myself, letting go of white and black has opened a world of color combinations that I didn't think of before taking my first ever traditional painting class. Now, I can freely pick colors and experiment with palettes since I've blocked out what values I need (like the image below).

Even if I'm using blending modes like in the next image, I'm always thinking about making clear value separations. If I can't understand the image in black and white, then I'll have a hard time seeing it in color.

And when you get very comfortable, you can start placing characters in different color environments and match them (which essentially is the job of a color designer in TV animation).

The right image is the official color palette for my character which already uses a lot of blue/purple for the shadows. But on the left side, she's in a night-time environment so I leaned even more into the cool colors to the point that the white T-shirt is actually a very very light purple/pink color haha.

Or like this example where the left drawing gives a more sunset/golden hour lighting while the right one is more blue hour/night time lighting. But you can read the colors clearly 'cause the values are clear to begin with. While that wasn't really a tutorial this is pretty much my thought process when I'm coloring my digital works. ^^; I very much do follow an academic approach to color theory but even then I think it's okay to break the rules. As long as you have understanding of colors' value, I think you'll be able to unlock any color style you want! I hope that answered your question and was helpful!

#digital art #digital illustartion #color #anon #ask #send me anon #send me asks #color theory #tone and value

[dearmayaki]

encouragement

( pair; keigo takami x introvert!worker!reader / golden retriever & black cat )

( short summary - you're a very quiet one, it piques his interest but he can't seem to find a way to be your friend )

-------------------------

Imagine being ranked as Japan's number two hero. Fans, left and right, paparazzi everywhere, everyone wanting to be your friend. Of course, it's a wealthy life as well. Keigo knows his way around - he's fast, charming and observant.

Which is why you had caught his eye.

He recently hired you and you worked in his agency for about a week, normally you'd be friends and chill with him by now - but you were still in your own bubble. Hawks could mind his business, but what's a bit of fun going to do? He's friends with everyone in his line of work so why not?

"Hey (L/n)!" He cheers approaching your figure, your station in the corner away from everyone else. "Hm?" You hum in acknowledgement turning to look up at the boss.

"Wanna go out with a few peers of mine? We could go during lunch break!" He took the empty office chair beside yours and plopped onto it, childishly spinning around for a moment.

You stare at him, deciding. He knows that look of yours, he may act foolish but his eyes are as clear as a hawk; you'd turn him down unless he does something about it.

"May I know the purpose of this outing..?" You finally spoke, in which Hawks responds with an enthusiastic thumbs up. "You know how important bonding with my co-workers is! Come on (L/n) it's been a week you're always working!" He whines a little spinning on the office chair.

"Bonding..?" He chuckles to himself when you tilted your head.

"Yes! You can invite your friends too ya know? The more the merrier!"

He says so hopefully, no offense though he knew you would decline. He doesn't know why, but he's determined to know about his workers' lives. Yes, every single one of them.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline Sir, if the purpose of this outing is fun and bonding, I'd rather not-"

"Pretty please?" He pushes, hoping you'd accept his offer. You sighed seeing he puckered his lips. "Okay." He internally cheers with joy in response to your answer.

--------

"(L/n)? You actually came!" One of your co-workers bounces up and down happily on discovery of your arrival. Shes a clingy one, she ran over and hugged your side relieved by your presence.

"Sir Hawks persisted, he said it was important so I came." She only sighed, "Oh you silly fellow... Always professional and serious.. loosen up will you?" She nudges your shoulder playfully.

"I'll try." Everyone who came for the hangout sweat dropped. Thankfully and finally, Hawks arrives.

"Greetings my sweets!" The vermillion winged man carries a few bags, same with a few of his feathers. "I've bought some gifts for my favorite minions!" They all gasp with joy, ripping the stapled bags open and seeing all of their likes, favorites and other things that went along with their hobbies.

You didn't open yours immediately, not wanting to. But out of respect, you decided to do so.

"I'm sorry (L/n).. I didn't know what to get you.." he says, worriedly watching you look inside the gift bag and pull out a simple purse.

Surprisingly, it was your style and color palette, it even matched the outfit you wore right now.

"Thank you, it's beautiful." You flashed him a small smile, bending a bit to give a small bow to which he quickly stops you with his feathers. "Oh you doof! Stop being so formal you're making me embarrassed!" He playfully jokes to which the others snicker.

"Guys come on I'm hungry!" One of your co-workers whine, looping an arm around your shoulder and the other girl's. She laughs; "Calm your appetite! We don't want you eating our clothes!"

--------

This whole time, he was watching you.

He was observing how you'd react, how you'd respond and how you would compose yourself. Yes, he is studying you. Hawks rested his cheek on his hand, staring at you with a calm expression on his face.

The hangout was indeed a success, he learnt something small- or maybe major about you.

You like being praised, appreciated and shown affection to.

No- you don't like it- from how the corner of your lips reacted it seemed as if you love it.

Hawks noticed this when you were taken aback by their sudden display of appreciation. They were thanking you for your hard work, being a helpful hand even though you were new.

And one more important thing, you lean to their touch. Like a magnet.

He thinks to himself, you're touch starved - was the first conclusion in his mind. But he has to confirm that suspicion first before jumping into anymore conclusions.

--------

In the next day, you both stayed in late at the agency, working on a report. He definitely did not purposely wait to finish this one and act clueless so he decided to call for your help. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." Hawks whispers, hugging a random pillow he grabbed from the couch.

"No worries, I'm happy to help." His eyes narrow, a small smile crept on his face. 'So diligent.' ; a comforting silence engulfs the large office, just the sound of fingers tapping away on the keyboard along with the scratch of a pen's ink on a paper.

He decides to be bold - breaking the silence.

"If I'm being honest, I want to know you better." Hawks says, but you don't pause your work to look at him. You only glanced at him for a moment, "Elaborate?" His eyes narrowed -

"Not gonna lie, I always have the need to know about my workers' lives. How they act, their personalities, likes and dislikes.." he trails off his gaze landing unto the ceiling. "I can't seem to know what you like, other than being a perfectionist it seems." He jokes.

"I'm sorry, I just want to be a good worker." You set the laptop aside on the couch and turn to look at him, "But for your sake, I want you to stop. I don't want you to waste your time on me, I'm very boring." You bluntly state, your fingers playing with the purse he had gifted you.

"I don't believe you." He suddenly says, giving you a thumbs down. "Everyone is different - like their fingerprints, there's always something unique."

You fall silent.

"I don't know you as much- but I feel like you're yearning for something.." he vocalises his 'small' suspicion, squinting his eyes and pouting his lips a little, a finger on his chin.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"You're an introvert okay- but somethings up. Just now with that little edgy quote of yours? I think there's something wrong." You only tilt your head out of confusion.

"It feels weird to hear the word boring when describing someone!" He ruffled his own hair.

"No offense Sir, you won't really notice when you're one of the beings on top of the world." You had him speechless for a moment, and finally it kicked in;

"Boss! I'm so sorry! I got carried awa-" he suddenly cuts you off - with a roaring laughter.

"Pfft! I didn't expect that from you!" He roughly nudged your side with his shoulder playfully with a cheeky smile. "But if we're being serious- I'm pretty sure no one here thinks you're boring when you're literally carrying the agency on your back?" He says with sass.

"I'm-" "-only doing my job. Right?" He giggles when the corner of your lips twitched. This time, it was just comfortable silence, you and him. He couldn't help but stare at you, taking in the way the moonlight emphasizes your features.

"I like to talk."

Hawks halted in his tracks, raising an eyebrow; "What? You wanted to know about me." He blinked, "Sorry- I just didn't expect that.." he awkwardly says.

"I just didn't have the right friends. That's all I'll give you." You finish, picking up your things on the coffee table and shoving them in your work bag, handling it roughly but when it came to the purse-

He observed the way you handle it with tender care, as if it was a glass ornament, wearing it carefully but swiftly.

"I will be taking my leave, I've already completed the report." You bow lightly before stepping out the door, not looking back.

Now it was just Hawks; and Keigo Takami. You're a puzzle, but he was a mystery. With A sharp intellect like his, he can break you down easily.

You didn't seem to be boring, his intuition is sharp, accurate and clear. You might have not had the support you needed all those years ago- when you were young. But he's ready to make you open up, and maybe even teach you how to love again, to let someone into your heart again.

( : : imma be real with y'all I kinda do not like this one )

#hawks x reader #anime #bored #bnha #mha #keigo takami #bnha keigo #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks fic #hawks fluff #keigo x reader #keigo fluff #my hero academia hawks

[pyr0graves]

I really do think you're wonderful.

Hello you! I have another little story I've had cooking in the brainpan for awhile! I would like to thank my good friend @mouse-bones for beta reading and giving me feedback!!

Constructive criticism is much appreciated, I want to get better!

Word Count: 696 words

“Come on, Pasc! I think it would look lovely on you,”

“I know! It’s just, you know how makeup makes me feel, Wally..”

“Just once? I won’t ask you again if you don’t like it this time, and if you get uncomfortable halfway through, you can tell me to stop. Promise.”

“…Okay,”

Wally gave Pascal a smile from the vanity and walked over to the bed to press a kiss to their cheek, hugging them right after. He stood back up and walked back to the vanity mirror to grab his makeup set, all while the latter finished buttoning up their shirt to go out later on. Pascal looked down at their hands as they waited for Wally to call them to the mirror.

…Too soft, quit biting your nails…

“Alright, I have my things, can you sit by the vanity? It makes it a bit easier,”

“Mhmm,” Pascal stood up and grabbed a chair to sit on the opposite side of the bedroom by the mirror they always saw Wally using in the mornings. Wally sat across from them with a palette and some brushes.

“Just let me know if you need me to stop, Pascy,” Wally explained as he grabbed the eyeshadow palette and brush and patted it into orange pigment, “Now close your eyes, and stay still for me, please?”

Pascal sat there, looking between Wally and the brush. They nodded and closed their eyes, as the brush began to paint color on their face, deja vu hit them like a freight train. The assortment of colors and the way the brush patted their eyelids, it reminded them of a different time that felt far clearer than they recalled, even after nearly 10 years.

“Hm, I feel like I’m back in high school,”

“What makes you say so, darling?”

“My sister did makeup on me once for a dance, I don’t remember what she did but I just remember feeling kind of weird,” Pascal muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably with their hands as they did their best to sit still.

Wally hummed in acknowledgment, not making any further conversation as he kept going. He switched between tools occasionally. Working with a quick but steady hand, wanting to avoid drawing the process on for longer than necessary.

“Alright, aalmostt done…Just one more thing, can you purse your lips out for me?” Wally grabbed some lipstick from the drawer in the vanity, opened it up, and twisted the bottom. He applied it to Pascal’s bottom lip and made a gesture for them to apply it to their upper lip as well.

“There, all finished,” Wally grabbed a handheld mirror after closing the lipstick and showed Pascal’s reflection to themselves, “What do you think?”

Pascal’s eyes widened as they saw themselves in the mirror, they gently took the mirror from Wally’s hands and stared into the eyes of the person who looked back at them. Despite everything, despite all they’ve been through.

It was still them.

“…Do you not like it?” Wally seemed to shrink in on himself, though Pascal was quick to ease his worries.

“No! I mean- It’s…It’s not bad just… I didn’t think I’d look so…pretty? I kind of like the eyeshadow, I don’t think the lipstick matches very well though.” They said as they kept their focus on the mirror, quirking an eyebrow at the blue lipstick. Wally on the other hand visibly calmed down, a smile forming on his face.

“Oh that was for me… would you want to try this again sometime?” Wally looked at Pascal with his big doe eyes, there was nothing to match Wally’s joy when Pascal nodded their head.

They took another look at the mirror before they put it back on the table.

“Hey, isn’t this your lipstick color? Why’d you put it on m- Mph!” Pascal nearly fell backward as Wally lurched forward to press his lips against theirs. After what felt like an eternity, Wally pulled away with a giggle, leaving Pascal with flushed cheeks and a surprised look.

“That’s why. I wanted to kiss you,”

“If you do that again while we’re at Julie’s, I’m going to throw you out.”

“That isn’t very nice,”

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanfic #human au #wally darling #welcome home wally #pascal pushpin #welcome home oc #writing #fanfiction #canon x oc #oc x canon #ask to tag #mostly cause idk how to tag pascal's discomfort about makeup #pyro has a story to tell

[adobe-outdesign]

Shelmet/karrablast lines review?

I'm going to preface this review by stating that I HATE trade-only evolutions. I'll spare you all from an extensive ramble, but the tl;dr is that they're obnoxious, counter-productive, and ultimately only serve to make it harder to get certain Pokemon.

HOWEVER, with that said, these two lines are the only time the idea of a trade-evo actually seems justified due to the way the two interact with each other. It's still not my favorite thing in the world (I feel like they could just evolve by being placed next to each other in one's party), but at least there's a rationale behind it instead of just abritrary decisions on the part of GameFreak.

Anyway, all that aside, I really like Shelmet here, and it's probably my favorite out of these four. The snail combined with a knight theme is super simple but reads really clearly, and the droopy eye and silly mouth give it a lot of personality. The colors are also nice, with the pinks and greens popping nicely against the neutral gray shell.

My only nitpick is related to the typing—this should've been bug/steel, for reasons we'll get into later.

Accelgor has a completely different, more ninja-esc theme, but this makes sense due to the loss of its shell, which was where all the knight theming came from in the first place.

This design is also good—the lines on the head accent the swirled shape nicely, which is also fairly accurate to how a shell-less snail looks. The pinks and greens once again draw attention to the head, and the brooding expression is great.

I'll admit though, something about the lower body throws me a bit. The body being bandaged to make up for the lack of a shell is great, but the actual shape of the body is so... flat and rigid compared to the nice curves of its head. Maybe if it curled a bit at the bottom too it would have a better flow. The bandages are also a bit too dark in color, loosing some of the contrast Shelmet's lighter gray had. Still, it's decent and gets the idea across well enough.

Gotta admit, I'm not a big fan of Karrablast. The idea of a beetle Pokemon makes perfect sense because it's based off of various kinds of beetles that eat snails and/or pupate in their shells, but Karrablast is just so amorphous and generic that you'd be hard pressed to even recognize it as a beetle, which really makes the theme fall apart a bit. Maybe it's just a me thing, as I'm not big on Pokemon with more "ambiguous" body shapes like this.

I also think it should've had more to do with Accelgor thematically. Escavalier "steals" Shelmet's knight theme, so I feel like Karrablast should've also had a ninja-ish theme to match Accelgor.

All that aside, it's okay. The expression is at least a lot of fun with its little fangs, and the colors contrast nicely compared to the Shelmet line's, but the light blue triangle on the head feels out of place and I'm not a big fan of the weird head-pincers. At the end of the day, it's not terrible, but it does feel like the weak link in this line.

Escavalier, however, is pretty fun. Expanding on Shelmet's knight theme, it now has a pair of lances and a large area on top of the helmet somewhat evocative of a feathered headpiece. The shape of this headpiece also helps match with the bottom half of the shell with its curved shape. Overall, a fun execution.

I do think it could've been a bit stronger conceptually though. For one, Shelmet mostly keeps the same palette as it evolves, so it feels like the red accents on Escavalier should've been blue to match its pre-evo; it would also simplify the palette, seeing as it already has Karrablast's blues and yellows on its body.

And secondly, the typing. It definitely feels like the steel-type comes out of nowhere when Shelmet is only bug-type. I think it would've been much better if Shelmet was bug/steel and Karrablast was bug/dark; then when they evolve, it flips, so Accelgor would've been bug/dark and Escavalier's bug/steel now fits with the concept. Minor thing obviously, but it's always bugged me (no pun intended). I still enjoy Escavalier overall regardless though.

As a whole, it's nice to see a line (or lines, in this case) that finally puts the trade evo idea to good use. I think the concept could've been stronger in a few spots, but it's still a fun theme and obvious enough to figure out through the visuals alone.

#shelmet #accelgor #karrablast #escavalier #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[starryluminary]

Dammit I got riled up. On the topic of nemma’s designs not complimenting eachother the way they should.

Ok here’s our point of reference. Emma’s head is so small compared to Noah’s that it’s immersion breaking. I’m not kidding when I say Noah’s head is the size of the top of Emma’s head to her waistline it’s absurd. The length from Noah’s shoulders to his waist (which is assumed to be directly below the hem of the white shirt if the center of his pants is anything to go by) is also incredibly large when you compare it to Emma’s. Why is Noah so damn big compared to Emma.

Let me talk a bit about color now. Noah has a cool color palette despite the hot color of his vest (red) because the red has been toned down significantly to match the aqua blue of the collared shirt. That makes sense, right? Emma at least has a brighter orange shirt… but complimented with a darker orange leaning on brown sweater. That paired with the dark, cold colored pants (though I can’t tell you what cold color just looking at it) gives her a cooler color palette, despite the hot colors of her top half. While it does look good as a stand alone design (as does the rest of her,) it doesn’t look good when paired with Noah, which isn’t great if they’re the main romance of the season.

Shapes. The one thing I think they have going for them complementary wise is that they’re sharp. I think since they’re similar in personality (snarky attitude, book smart, less social than average) that them both being sharp works well. Emma’s round legs ruin that a little but Yknow. Something is something.

Now I wanna spitball a little. Throw out ideas on how Emma’s design can be changed as to compliment Noah’s (her romantic interest) and Kitty’s (her sister and race partner) without also having to change Kitty’s design. Bullet point list!!

Make her head slightly taller (think Mary’s head shape more or less.)

Layer her up a little more with a pink purple blazer buttoned up and a more royal purple turtleneck under it (reasoning being Noah has a hot color that looks cool, so giving her a cold color that can pass as warm would contrast well.) (Also Kitty’s primary color is red so. Hot colored extrovert and cold colored introvert.) Make it so that the blazer covers the waistline slightly.

Pointy chest to keep with the sharp motif (think Izzy’s chest shape)

Darker tone pants (I’m thinking brown but I don’t know how good that looks against purple) that reach her ankles and are hemmed sharply.

She can keep her wedge heels. The height boost helps the size disparity with Noah and makes her look a bit more professional to contrast Kitty’s aloofness.

Okay. Out of my system. Sorry for all of that nonsense but thanks if you actually made it this far. Goodnight

#this really is midnight nonsense so feel free to ignore all of that #uuuuggggghhhhhh I wish I didn’t care this much but I do #*tweaks Emma’s design a little the way I can’t tweak the screw loose in my brain* #total drama #total drama presents: the ridonculous race #total drama ridonculous race #tdrr #total drama noah #td noah #total drama emma #td emma #td Emma race #ship hate #not *really* but I have the feeling n//emma shippers aren’t interested in this #Starry speaks

[fodlaneverafter]

FEA character mini-analyses: black eagles as rebels

Today I feel like explaining why I cast characters the way I did in FEA (my ongoing 3H/EAH crossover fic)! If all goes well this'll be a four-part series--one each for the three houses and one last post for the house lords + Rhea. (I'm sorry Ashen Wolves fans... I'll talk about Yuri in the last post, but I don't think there's much I can say for the rest of his house.)

Now without further ado, let us begin!

Hubert as Faybelle Thorn: let's raise a cheer for everyone's favorite dark fairy!! (please don't this is cursed enough. haha get it? cursed, because he's--) As we all know the most important thing about Hubert von Vestra is his impeccable sense of style, and Faybelle's aesthetic is the only one that comes close. The only major difference between these two characters is that Faybelle is spiteful, while Hubert is simply ruthless. And I think it's enough to make him a Rebel, as the Dark Fairy's actions are nothing but petty. With his father's role being stolen by the Evil Queen, I thought this would add an interesting dimension to his loyalty to Edelgard (whereas Faybelle hates Raven for it). Also, Faybelle's pet is canonically a pomeranian puppy named Spindle, and I wanted to give Hubie a pomeranian puppy named Spindle.

Ferdinand as C.A. Cupid: I needed something to replace nobility as the virtue around which he centers his life, so naturally I decided on the most entertaining alternative--love. In this AU, destiny-bound "true love" serves as a good enough parallel to the corruption of Fódlan nobility. So while he may have some disagreements with Edelgard, he can't argue with her understanding of destiny. Giving him big ol' wings makes him even more annoying to her, which is exactly what I want. ... Okay, yes, I did make him Cupid just because it was the only way I could include "Ferdinand von Aegir Cupid" in this AU.

Bernadetta as Cerise Hood: yes, it does hurt me that Bernadetta's color palette clashes horribly with the RRH aesthetic, but what can a girl do they're the perfect match! Of course Bernie would be shy and reclusive if her father was the freaking Big Bad Wolf. And who wouldn't be anxious having to hide a secret like that in the woods, constantly surrounded by the vicious Wolf people? Of course I couldn't make her as extremely nervous as she was in 3H, but uh. I don't think anyone minds. (We are kicking Count Varley out of the picture by the way please forget he ever existed.)

Petra as Cedar Wood: the only princess besides Edelgard in 3H may be a mere commoner in this retelling, but real queens need no crowns. Cedar's desire to understand humans is the closest in-universe to Petra's desire to understand Fódlan (even if they're for different reasons). Furthermore, I find Petra's honesty works well with Cedar's curse--they're both so endearing for it.

Dorothea as Meeshell Mermaid: we shall forever mourn the lost potential of Meeshell, but Dorothea is a whole other story. Voice of an angel, check. Renowned beauty, check. Most importantly, her longing to be truly seen and loved, check. Let's not forget the Little Mermaid was treated as little more than a pretty plaything in the prince's court, never truly seen by the man she loved. Canon Dorothea fears exactly that. Her being a Rebel is just too perfect.

Linhardt as Briar Beauty: I don't think I need to explain myself here? But... the tricky part about him is that Linhardt would never in a million years be unsatisfied with his destiny. I had to lure him to the dark side with lots of enticing research opportunities on the true nature of destiny-bound curses and succession laws, because of what happened with his mom's story (Evil Queen stealing Dark Fairy's role and all). Anyway, I love imagining him with green crownglasses and the fact that his personality is the polar opposite of Briar's will never not be hilarious.

Caspar as... the son of the White Queen??: yeah so the White Queen doesn't have a kid in EAH; I just couldn't think of anything more suiting for Caspar, both in personality and appearance (a bonus, in my book!). Now technically most of the Wonderlandians are Golden Deer, but like... who cares. Also, it's adorable to picture Caspar having normal conversations with his mom, who is the princesses' advisor, and they're quite literally just shouting at each other. Even if they're on opposite sides of the destiny conflict, I feel like they'd have the sweetest relationship.

And that, my folksies, is that.

Confession: before starting this fic, the Black Eagles were my least favorite house. I didn't understand them at all, but now I am so glad I do. They got that Rebel heart, lads.

Next up: Blue Lions!

#fire emblem three houses #ever after high #black eagles #eah rebels #fe3h au #hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #bernadetta von varley #dorothea arnault #petra macneary #linhardt von hevring #caspar von bergliez

[roserefrain]

[1126 words]

Florian practices recognizing his emotions, as Aster practices their painting.

"How are you feeling?" The question should be expected at this point, Aster purposefully asked it multiple times a day after all, but it caught Florian off guard every time.

He pauses, wanting to provide a genuine answer, as difficult as that could be. Closing his eyes, he does a quick mental examination of each part of his body. Physical sensations, that's always easier to recognize, he can find the emotion that way. The emotion is currently kept in his hands and his neck, in the way he rests a hand on the hilt of his sword, in the way he repeatedly turns his head to look left, then right.

"Nervous?" Ah, that sounded like a guess. "Nervous," he repeats, this time making his voice sound sure. Yes, he was doing this right, he was accomplishing the task they had given him.

"And?" A playful grin is on their face as they move their brush across the canvas in a swift arc. They raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting his reaction.

And? 'And' was never a part of this before. 'How do you know' and 'why' had both been asked before, an additional layer of difficulty on the assignment, but ones that would be trivial currently. He knew he was nervous because he felt tense, and he felt nervous because Aster was painting out in the open. Sure, he had made sure that no one else would be in the garden, closed it to the public... But that didn't make this whole process less nerve wracking.

"Flor-i-an." They separate each syllable of his name, the way they do whenever they can see him getting lost in his thoughts.

"I don't understand the question. I told you how I am feeling already."

"You're absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent nervous? No other feelings bouncing around at all?" Aster set down their paintbrush for a moment, peeking out from behind the canvas at Florian's face.

"...I told you the emotion I am feeling," Florian repeats, letting out a sigh. "That was our agreement, yes? I tell you the emotion I am feeling. I am not going to arbitrarily list out another one."

Aster laughs at that, but Florian really isn't sure why. "Ah yes, our contractual agreement," they mumble through giggles. "Alright, hold on."

They walk out from behind the canvas fully now, holding several small bottles of paint. They extend their arm, showing off the bottle of golden paint they are holding. Florian stares at it for a moment, noting that there are dried bits of the color flaking around the lid.

"Okay, so, this is happy."

"Can we perhaps make a different color happiness?" Florian squints disapprovingly at the golden hue, matching his eyes perfectly. Aster had to have done that intentionally. Why must they call attention to his eyes so often? It didn't seem mocking, but he couldn't imagine another reason.

"Absolutely not, mister! Yellow's my favorite and you know that!" They gesture at him with the paint bottle, shaking it like a finger wag. "So, this is happy, and this one is sad." They hold up a blue paint bottle with all the pride that one would normally hold up a sword.

"Where are you going with this?"

"Gimmie a second!" Aster grabs their wooden palette, hooking it around their thumb as they squeeze a small glob of each color down on to it. They reach out and grab their brush, swirling it around in the two colors in a little figure eight motion. "Okay! What's this?"

Florian tilts his head like a bird, looking at the little smear of color across the wood. "...Green."

"No- well, yes it's green, but, they're emotions! We mixed happy and sad!"

"Ah, then it is nothing." Florian nods. He didn't understand the reason for this demonstration, but he was at least positive that he had understood it. "They cancel each other out."

Aster stares at him for a moment, as if gauging if he was serious. Ah, was he wrong then? They blink slowly, and then shake their head, their halo moving ever so slightly above them. "...Mm. We'll work on it, okay? But, just think about if they didn't cancel each other out. If you felt multiple things at once."

They step back behind the canvas, sticking their tongue out as they focus again on their painting. Whenever they made that expression, squinting and tilting their head, completely lost in their work... It made him feel something.

He didn't know what this feeling was, but it lived in his cheeks, and deep in his chest. A sort of fuzzy feeling, light and warm. It made the nervousness fade away, so Aster must be incorrect about feeling multiple things at once, right?

"I think I'm done."

"Ah, may I see it then?" For the last hour, he had wanted so badly to see it, to know what each of those little blobs of color could become on the canvas. But, Aster had insisted that they'd feel too nervous if someone was watching them the entire time they painted.

"Knock yourself out." They step back, gesturing with one wing in the direction of the canvas. But, it wasn't just a canvas anymore, was it? It was a painting.

Florian approaches the painting, keeping his arms folded carefully behind his back. This... This painting... Sure, as he expected, it was a painting of the rose garden, the bushes, the flowers, the carefully maintained arches, but...

Aster let out a laugh, a noise that made him jump. "Your ears! They're so red!" They cover their mouth, their glowing smile still visible between their fingers.

Florian quickly claps his hands over his pointed ears, but he can feel blood rushing to his cheeks as well. It's pointless to try and hide it. How is he supposed to control his emotions now?

The painting, he's in it. Standing right there, in the garden, one hand on his sword as he keeps watch, just as he did while Aster painted.

"So," Aster says, moving their hand away from their mouth as they grin at him, "what do you think?"

And as Florian turns to see them, the setting sun silhouetting them, their eyes shining with an emotion he couldn't identify, a bright smile lighting up the entire garden, their white feathers blowing ever so slightly in the breeze... He understands. He understands what that feeling deep in his chest is, and he understands how someone can feel so many contradictory things at once. Fear, joy, shame, and... the one he could finally put a name to, all within him simultaneously.

"...It's beautiful." But he can't bring himself to look back at the painting as he says it. He can't tear his eyes away from them.

#my writing #before i loved you #self ship #self ship writing

[the-irken-pony]

Free spot to talk about your ocs!! Gimme whatever thoughts you've gotten!

Gahhhhh fuck it. If people know ahead of time then people know ahead of time, I need to talk about them hhhh.

Traci Wells:

First of all I have adjusted her palette again. Reverted her CCC uniform to its original colors, made her shoes and glasses a bit more purplish, and made her hair a bit more reddish (and more vibrant).

I haven’t gotten around to it yet but I may redo how I draw her hair bun. I know it’s possible for one person to have multiple types of curls depending on the location but bun doesn’t match the hair that’s pulled back to make it, if that makes sense.

Basically I need to draw her again so I can share an updated design

Okay some actual character info now-

The original idea for Traci came from one of Ellie’s lines in Capital Gainz. Ellie mentions having “contacts” who are capable of acquiring private info, such as where the Toppat Clan is located. The fact that said contact(s) a) are willing to rat out the Toppat Clan and b) doing have enough of a vendetta to target the Toppat Clan themselves, was what led me to make her a member of the CCC, rather than a more major faction. (Though my own favoritism towards the CCC also played a part.)

Traci is… not the most physically fit. She prefers to assist in combat from a distance, and unlike the militarily trained Charles Calvin, Traci does not adapt well to field work or close quarters combat.

That said, she’s petty as fuck and not afraid to start an argument.

As I have said before, she works for the Subject Surveillance (SS) Wing of the Center for Chaos Containment. Unlike the Area Protection (AP) Wing, SS is devoted to capturing, “tagging”, and releasing individuals known to have high chaos levels (such as Henry, Ellie, RHM, Kabbitz, etc.). This does two things: allows them to distinguish between “area chaos” (e.g. the Toppat vs Govt fight in ItA) and “localized chaos” (e.g. the Ellry vs Kabbitz fight) and approach the situation accordingly (in a way that doesn’t result in wiping out the 1% or so of the population that has superpowers), and lets them study and observe superpowers in their natural state.

Ever since the CCC started working with the Wall, SS has been underfunded because why worry about all the nitty gritty details of where the chaos is coming from when you can just lock up any chaotic specimens (alongside whatever criminals Dmitri thought looked neat) and then take any remaining chaos and blow it up?

Speaking of the Wall, I've mentioned that Traci has a vendetta against Kyle Baxter. Before Kyle was stationed at the Wall, he was another member of SS. He volunteered for the new role for a couple of reasons. 1) With SS funding going down the drain and the CCC getting buddy-buddy with the Wall, he figured it'd be a more financially stable position in the long run; 2) he had experience working with high-chaos individuals so he assumed that it would be similar. (His panic during the big bust-out? That incident falls under the "area chaos" category, which he's not as equipped to deal with.)

Traci is, shall we say... less than pleased with this. And she's not afraid to mention it.

And now, some ✨backstory✨

I have mentioned that Traci has a twin. That twin is actually RHM. They’re biological twins; RHM is transgender.

Yes that does mean that she’s Cockney. I still need to remind myself this sometimes.

Sometime in his teens, RHM got kicked out of the house. I haven’t fully settled on the reason yet; either it was related to him having superpowers or some huge fuckup that’s his fault, or possibly a combination of the two. (Toyed with the idea of it being trans related, but I imagine him discovering that a bit later on in his life.)

He’d live on the streets for a couple of years before being picked up by the Toppat Clan. Almost definitely joined a gang or two in that time.

Traci stayed at home at the time; as much as she cared about her sibling, she also didn’t want to give up the security of having a home (the fact that she wasn’t treated as a “problem child” the way RHM was didn’t help).

Over time she’d grow to regret this decision more and more until she eventually made it her goal to reunite with him somehow. This is what originally motivated her to join the CCC—not only would she have a flying mobile unit, but she’d also have equipment that would help her track down RHM.

She would quickly find her new job to be a perfect for her (even if achieving her original goal would prove to be more difficult than originally thought).

Cael Summers:

So far, there isn’t a whole lot about them that I haven’t shared yet. I was a lot more open when introducing them than I was with Traci. I’ve also had Traci for much longer so she’s had more time to develop than Cael has.

Lots of scrapped ideas incoming!

They weren’t always nonbinary—or maybe they sorta were? When I first started developing them I kept flip flopping between male and female for them. Then I decided that if it was that hard of a decision then maybe they were a secret third thing.

I originally imagined them with a bit of a calmer disposition, but I felt that it made them a bit too similar to Ellie. So I pushed them closer and closer to how they are now: nervous fella who’d rather be at home than dealing with any of this shit.

Their hair became less emo with each iteration. When working on their more recent design I tried to emphasize the fact that they were recently captured by the Wall after getting caught in the middle of a scuffle between them and the Toppats. And that’s how I settled on the more messy hair they have now.

And now some actually still relevant information,

On their off-work days they like to dress more stylishly; they do their hair all nice and add a brooch.

I already mentioned the whole “they swallowed a rock and got powers from it” thing, but I didn’t elaborate on what those were: mind-related powers. Telepathy, mind reading, mind control, mind wiping, astral projection/possession, that sorta thing.

Aside from the telepathy, most of their newfound abilities scare them. They went from “will try to avoid a fight at all costs” to “I accidentally shattered one guy’s mind and turned another guy against his gang” and they don’t quite know how to handle it.

They do meet Ellie at some point—or rather, they might meet her. Cannot share too much more about that, since that’s directly related to the actual fanfic plot. Still working out how exactly they play into her story, but their general dynamic is “Ellie is a bad influence”.

Uhhhhh that’s about it for now? Have fun with these I guess lol

#traci wells #cael summers #my ocs #thsc oc #ellie rose #right hand man #henry stickmin #the henry stickmin collection #thsc #ask #the-starry-inkwell #mine #long post

[demonfox38]

🔥 castlevania

God. Incoming fireballs.

Obviously, the greatest of the "Castlevania" TV's show's sins was Season 3. But, I also want to nominate Sin #2 as making the dullest interpretation of Carmilla known to the entire goddamn series. You could have had a giant, naked woman riding around on a skull, crying flaming tears while her catgirl girlfriend mauled people to death. Or, Necromancer Barbie shaking her titties at the protagonist and laughing her ass off at their futile struggles. But, no. We had to rip off what turned out to be one of the most disappointing media mistakes all to get cash. Boo. I'm not renewing my Netflix subscription to see the next "Castlevania" show. Frankly, it would not break my heart if it fell apart in production.

I hate that Alucard's hair color has drifted from white/platinum blonde to a honey blonde in the popular consciousness. Like, yes, it used to be black (and still can be, if he's hot about it.) And yes, I get that it makes him look more like his mother. But, I'm all about an interpretation of Alucard where people look at him and go, "What the fuck is that, and why is it kind of hot?" And that's just harder to do when you've got the color palette of the average Japanese stereotype of a European/American dude.

Writers are cowards for not including Grant Danasty in subsequent projects. But also, I could easily write him out of the story. Just got up to the tower where he's hanging out, accidentally kill him in monster form, then have Trevor go "Oh, fuck! What the hell?!" and move on. He can be removable, but goddamn, does it show how little writers have played the actual games or have any sense of geography when they talk about him.

Honestly, I don't like watching most "Castlevania" speedruns. Mostly, because they have broken into clipping and arbitrary code execution to get the fastest times. If it's glitchless, I'm cool with it. It's otherwise dull to me.

It's a shame that "Aria/Dawn of Sorrow" never went full tilt with Shintoism or Japanese mythology in their games, but I'm glad Igarashi's doing it now with the "Bloodstained" series.

I don't trust Konami to do anything with the "Castlevania" property outside of whoring it out when they want cash. Frankly, that's their attitude with all of their properties, but that's the one that hits me closest to home. Some executive in that company has earned a special place in hell for not cultivating and keeping their design teams happy and in house.

I get the feeling that every time Igarashi was made to put a Belmont in his "Castlevania" games, it came at the cost of him cursing and swearing a lot. Like, "Shit! Fuck! You want more of these guys? May I please use someone else?"

If you don't get that Dracula's Castle is both alive and a character, you have no business handling anything with the series. It needs to be as charming and hostile as its master. If you don't get why people might want to hang around it, you've gotta leave.

It is Dracula's Castle. It is not "Castlevania." "Castlevania" is the English name we're stuck with for the series. Dracula's Castle is the place.

We probably shouldn't ever get a 1999 "Castlevania." It will never be sick enough.

We also shouldn't get a "Castlevania: Symphony of the Night" remake. At least, not until modeling can match the sprite work for fluidity and personality. And frankly, losing the original voice acting is a disaster unto itself. (Yes, I am not pleased with the PSP dub.)  

Okay. I think this enough for now.

#castlevania #the people speak #thank you for participating anon!

[sunsetroseart]

🌸 Lyra 🌸

Okay it’s been a hot minute since I posted on here and I have a lot of catching up to do so I’m gonna be spamming my account with my art and stories over the next few days. For starters, I’ll be introducing you to Lyra!

Though she won’t come into play in my main AU, she plays a huge role later on.

She’s Scarecrow’s daughter! She’s either blood related, like in my own AU, or she’s adopted, like in @avantasia-protag-au’s AU! Either way Scarecrow loves her more than anything, and she loves him unconditionally. She’s a Winged, a species made by @avantasia-protag-au, who have wings, small pointed ears, and fangs!

Lyra is small, gentle, and soft-spoken, but not afraid of going on adventures, though there are times she’s too timid to try or has to take time to think things through. She’s highly empathetic and understanding, she usually finds the right thing to say, but when she doesn’t, she just offers a listening ear and someone who just listens. 💖

She’s unabashedly feminine, and loves pink, flowers, pretty dresses, and other more stereotypically ‘girly’ things, but she also enjoys reading, drawing and painting, and music.

Unfortunately she does have her own issues to deal with, but I’ll be getting into those later! For now I just wanted to formally introduce all of you to Lyra. 💖🌸

These are a few drawings of her I’ve done throughout the year to show you her design’s changed, that drawing of her and Crow being the first, and the one of her with the Pride flags being the last. Her color palette and facial features stayed the same, but she later on got the pink gradient on her wings, and later on the Lyra constellation shaped freckles, like you see in the Pride flag drawing. And yes, she has glow markings that match Scarecrow’s makeup 😉

#art #my art #roseverse #roseverse protags #avantasia protag au #original character #Lyra #avantasia #avantasia fanart #the scarecrow #avantasia oc

[tvrningout-a]

is ko an only child and if not, how is his relationship to his siblings? how does his living space & his working space look like? chaotic? organized? is he still in love with chiyo or has that completely faded? how does he dress like? what are his thoughts on shonen anime & manga? does he enjoy sailor moon & who is his favorite sailor senshi? sorry i have so many questions aksbjsjs ❤️ answer as much or as little as u want ❤️

it's loving kojirou hours | @vonerde very kindly asks about ko!!

is ko an only child and if not, how is his relationship to his siblings?

i'm so glad you asked about siblings bc for whatever reason, my brain always defaults to only children if i'm not making sibling oc's asdfg he's an older brother to one miss anju, who is seven years younger than him! they're really close bc ko looked after her a lot while their mom kept busy with work; he was typically the one making her lunch, helping her with homework, and even the one showing up to award ceremonies/special events ( and he absolutely skipped school or his own stuff to attend ). ko isn't perfect, but anju, particularly now that she's older, admires how much he stepped in to not only help their mom but to make sure that anju never felt overlooked, too. she knows that she can come to him with anything, and he's gonna drop everything to be there for her :' )

how does his living space & his working space look like? chaotic? organized?

it's very neat and organized! the complete opposite of chiyo's asdfg ko is very big on things having their place and making sure to keep it that way. having a disorganized space makes it difficult for him to concentrate bc it just feels cluttered and crowded, and you can typically tell if he's going through something bc that's the only time his home and work area will get messy. the more stressed and/or busy he gets, the more the space around him reflects that. i also wanna say!! ko probably appreciates minimalism and simple color palettes... or just plain ol' black and white :' ) it's just easier to match furniture and whatnot if it's all varying shades of black, grey, and white! pls make him put some color in his apartment

is he still in love with chiyo or has that completely faded?

ASDFG ASKING THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS!! AND WELL!! he thinks his feelings have completely faded :' ) until he meets chiyo again :' ) gradually, he realizes that it's really easy to fall right back into those feelings bc while they've grown older and changed, they still click so well. he can see himself dating her again, and maybe this time things could actually work, but ko can tell that chiyo still needs time. he can't hit her with " i still have feelings for you, " and expect her to take it well, not after finding out that she hasn't dated since they broke up. he's aware that she likely has a lot of fear surrounding love and vulnerability even now. ko is content to be her friend for now, though. he enjoys a good slow burn anyway <3 though, this isn't to say he's emotionally unavailable for anyone else who comes along! honestly, i think getting over chiyo and letting go of those feelings would be a fun plot point to explore, but that all depends on my writing partner's comfort level/interest. and ofc there's always the option of a lil polyship!! bc i can see ko being okay with it and actually contemplating the idea first bc he'd realize what's going on before the others most likely. i see ko as being very emotionally intelligent and confident, so he's probably the one pushing the other two to understand their feelings before finally going, " how do y'all feel about just? dating each other? all (x) of us? "

how does he dress like?

i think he keeps a very casual style most of the time, opting for graphic t-shirts and hoodies, comfy jeans, chunky sneakers, and the occasional dad hat. like chiyo, he wears dressier clothing only for work and special occasions, and when he does, he once again tends to gravitate towards greys and blacks with certain other dark colors thrown in. he'll probably avoid wearing ties as much as possible bc he always feels like he's being choked. generally doesn't accessorize very much, but you'll catch him with a ring or two on his fingers and a simple chain bracelet that anju gave him for his 25th birthday.

what are his thoughts on shonen anime & manga?

he enjoys them! but he tends to drop them for long stretches before picking them back up bc they tend to be so long, and he catches up with the released chapters pretty quickly ( though, there are shoujo manga that he does this with, too ). ko also tends to be kind of critical with how authors handle their characters and the relationships, though once again!! that's something he'll do with all manga and anime. i think he tends to kinda? skip over battle scenes or get tldr's from his friends bc he gets bored with those. he's almost always reading a manga for the lore and for the characters and the desire to see how they grow and whatnot, so reading the same battle scene for however many chapters is just :' ) not it for him :' ) even watching the anime gets tedious if the fight extends over more than two episodes. so the bottom line!! is he enjoys and appreciates shonen series, but they're not 100% his cup of tea.

does he enjoy sailor moon & who is his favorite sailor senshi?

he does!! tbh magical girl series in general somehow get a pass for battle scenes, but if i'm remembering right?? sailor moon's fights don't typically last for a ton of episodes! but anyway!! he grew up watching sailor moon with his mom and then his little sister, so it's got a special place in his heart :' ) his favorite sailor senshi is miss rei/sailor mars!! he tends to gravitate towards the more " fiery " characters in a series, and rei is definitely the cause of that. he also adores usagi herself bc she's such a goofball and secretly ships her and rei together!

#vonerde #vee you're an absolute angel for asking me so many questions and making me really think about my little lad <3 #thank you so so much for these!!! #and man i wanna watch sailor moon now asdfg #i hope i didn't ramble too much :' )) #headcanons | kojirou

[ga-yuu]

are you... at least okay with the design of the ikemen villains mc? she very much looks different compared to the other ikemen mcs now (except for ikerev alice, who's blonde hair and is blue-eyed and yoshino, who's grey hair, sometimes white, and is yellow-eyed) for the ikemen villains mc, her hair is kinda light brown and i'm guessing her eyes would be purple to match her cravat and skirt. we rarely see otome mcs with that kind of color palette we don't know her personality yet but i'm curious what you think of her, design-wise

Whether I'm okay with it or not won't change Cybird's final decision. I initially thought she had white hair and was happy about it. Then SOMEONE, to crush my hopes and dreams, commented that she has brown hair. When I went to check the pre-registration rewards, which if you didn't know would have the MC's full avatar set including hair, dress, eyes etc...and to my horror, it was brown hair and brown eyes. Now, I'm not saying that just because the rewards have brown hair and brown eyes doesn't mean that the actual MC would have brown eyes. Maybe, when they'd actually reveal her full face we will get to see what she looks like.

And most of you must be thinking that I hate brown hair and brown eyes MC. I don't hate them...it's just I have seen them enough times in many games, that now I just find them boring. I just want the MCs to look exciting like the male leads. I want her to look gorgeous like them. Even if it's a minor change also, I wouldn't mind. For example, tying her hair in a braid or giving her a bob haircut or if at least long hair MC with no bangs. They all except for Alice and Yoshino have the same hairstyle.

And we don't talk about the personality...there's never gonna be an MC that would be on the same level as Yoshino. For me, she is the golden standard for all the MCs design-wise, personality-wise, and even strength-wise. No MC will ever match her level (for me at least). I feel like Cybird used all their best expertise to create her and ended up with nothing left for other MCs lol. She's the best character to come out of Cybird...no matter what others say!

If this MC somehow does impress me in the story and has an indispensable role in the main story of each male lead and doesn't bore me with her monologue, then I'll forgive her design. Am I being too harsh?

#ikemen series #ikemen villian #ikemen mc #otome #cybird #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #asks

[crowdsourcedloner]

so one of my big hangups over Nailah right now is the lack of an ingame model for her, so this post will be talking about how i see her vague cloud self and ideas for how she could look as well as general female hrothgar rambles. (it’s long and all speculative and incredibly self indulgent)

okay so to start, i’m gonna reference this art (from the shadowbringers artbook)

this is, to my knowledge, one of the few images we have for femhroth, outside of the bozja mural seen in a STQ cutscene. it’s concept art for the queen we fight at the end of delubrum reginae, which is a female roegadyn in the final game (due to lack of female hroth models). there understandably isn’t a lot of detail to her, as the artist was probably more concerned with the queen’s throne doodads, but from what we can see she has a more humanoid face than male hroth have. is this intentional? is it just placeholder? why does this image interest me so much? well...

this is a female ronso from ffx. while ffxiv’s hrothgar are distinct from ronso, they were used as inspiration (one of the male faces has a horn option to call back to kimahri as well as the lost’s color palette being similar to ronso palettes). female ronso have less bestial faces than male ronso (to my eyes) and i expect this to carry over into ffxiv’s female hrothgar as well. do i like this hypothetical decision of less bestial femhroth? i don’t know. i don’t have much faith in the developers going through with a full monster girl. i do know that female au ra had a massive shift towards their current more petite appearance compared to some of their concepts (included in the heavensward artbook) and i wouldn’t be surprised if the developers wanted a more cutesy or conventionally attractive model for femhroth. i’m rooting for the more bestial model ideas personally, but i’ve made peace with the potential for something else. i’ll work with whatever they give me. a good example of the more bestial look i’m thinking of is karmaho’s work, check them out here. their scholar design is beautiful! another look that feels likely to me is the below image.

this is fanart of a genderbent kimahri (artist credit here). this image feels closest to what we’re getting for two (relatively arbitrary) reasons: her skin color and ear placement matches the queen in the shadowbringers concept art and she’s quite human compared to kimahri’s original design. the art is also just really cool and i wanted to show it to y’all.

so how does this tie into Nailah?

there is a pretty big difference between the two potentials for female hrothgar, which makes it weird to decide a face for her. i have a few color palettes i’m between though! and no matter what, she will have glorious fluffy hair. i’m not budging on that. her potential color palettes include genderbent kimahri (its so soft! and pretty! and her eyes work so well!) or something like a snow leopard (white fur with dark markings and striking blue/yellow eyes! monochrome color scheme my beloved!) or a dark blue concept (dark blue/purple skin with black hair and golden eyes! close to a panther!) or something like a pale calico (pale markings that you can barely see! she looks so gentle!) or... who knows! maybe the character creator will hit me with something new! there could be fur patterns that capture my imagination! until then, she’s just my vague cloud child of infinite possibilities and i love her.

#female hrothgar #its nailahposting hours #...that'll be my headcanon tag lmao #this post is long and unhinged #but really fun to make #i'm on the biggest copium for fanfest y'all have no idea

[keefsteef]

saw your rbed ask on rach's page and it got me curious soo warning era queensryche if you're still doing it?

Glad I PIQUED YOUR CURIOSITY ����. I'm going to address them by order of appearance because I've not much knowledge of the band and their names, so if you wouldn't mind telling me after the fact that'd be great ✨!

1. Oooookay, a two-toned pants moment. I also see he's got a fishing-net situation going on on his shoulder, and a nut-and-bolt ordeal on the vest.

The color palette? There's nothing wild going on, I like it! But the overall unity, I feel like he could've gave us more. The shirt bolts could have very well also embellished the sides of his pants, or even the waist area! Small details like that are more impactful to fashion thirsters such as myself.

That snake bracelet is totally random and can go somewhere far away, though. The wraps work well as just black, but a grey to emphasize his shoulder detailing wouldn't have killed anyone.

But the outfit does still work, it's just a bit bland to me.

2. Oh hey he's hot, but unlike the flames on his shirt alluded to, the outfit is not. I'm sorry but in comparison to what everyone else has going on, I'd swear he was a fan and not a member. It has no flare, it isn't doing anything for me.

Plus he's not coordinating omggg everyone's having a chest peak moment and he's there in a t-shirt. Without totally changing his entire look I can't really fix this as it is.

I would have gave him a vest similar to 1's with yellow lines going down the side like his pants, a yellow headband, he could keep the wrist wraps, and then possibly a some sort of dangle-necklace, those always work well when you've got your chest out.

Now this may make him look like he came right out of Stryper but 😩☠️ it'd of been cute.

3. OKAY A SINGLET-SHIRT, those and chest hair are always a happy couple, so I do like that. It also has a yellow-edge to match with 2's pants, and we're back to bolts to match with 1's vest.

I'm not feeling that mix-and match belt extravaganza. I can tell whoever did that thought it'd be extravagant, but it's out of place. A ring... And a square... And punch-holes... And diamond rhines... hahaha. Good-bye to the ringed belt, goodbye to the golden diamond rhines.

Keep the square buckle, replace the golden rhines with silver sequin, because the base of the shirt is sequin and silver bolts.

Take away whatever that extra shirt is under the main shirt, and make that glove black with yellow trim. I get he's coordinating the white with 4, but if we're talking a stand alone outfit choice, GOODBYE!

4. He's adorable first of all 🥴✨, and frankly the only thing I'm really not into about his outfit is the belt. It's tacky, I would have put him in a more glam chain-like belt made of bolts. But his outfit works in its own sense, the wrist wraps, the shirt style, everything. Maybe a white line going down the sides of the pants if you wanted to get fancy, but it really doesn't need it.

5. Not him being sexy and having a sexy outfit! It's like his outfit has all the elements I gave to everyone else's COMBINED, I LOVE THE DIRECTION OF IT!

Not digging the purple as far as coordination with his other members goes, no one else is in purple and it's making me tick. Well.... wellllll, a darker black-purple?! I just don't like the brightness of the purple, it isn't ugly but it just doesn't please me.

A darker color would've made the little yellow detailing pop more, which would have been hot. But again I do actually like the design of it, I can't get mad at it.

Anyway this has been the Queensyrche fashion show thanks for reading my judgmental nonsense 🤩✨

#asks

[fariesoiree]

you walk around like you own shit, always snapping back at innocent people and of course, you just had to cross a line with hobie.

caution! mdni 8.3k wrdz, runway model!hobie au, hobie has freeform locs, rich spoiled brat!reader, black fem!reader, you do nawt get along, semi-public sex, hate sex, fingering reader receiving, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, oral reading receiving, ass eating if you squint (not really), unprotected sex, p in v sex, choking, hair pulling spanking, finger sucking, drooling, cum eating, pet names, blushing describe but isn’t visible

miffy’s note! deleted it to repost! it’s finally completeddd and hopefully okay?? i picked it up so many times idk if the tone is the same. i think this is my new fav, though. to date, this is one of the nastiest smuts i’ve written and posted but i still consider it pretty tame :D if you like this, i’d recommend strawberry meringue! pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

you are so utterly annoying. the way you sit at hair and makeup with a pout etched on your face and protesting at everything everyone around you does.

it is only six thirty in the morning and you’re so loud and annoying. hobie’s head is pounding, throbbing with the aftereffects of spending his night at the pub with his friends. all he wants to be in the comfort of his bed, lights off and air conditioning blasting.

instead, he is forced to sit in your presence and listen to your complaints over such minor details he truly could not give a flying fuck about.

“that shade of blue is not light enough. it’s not going to match and it’ll look unflattering!” you swerve your head away the fluffy eyeshadow brush, dusted with a blue powder.

you’ve been doing this all morning, between taking swigs of your iced coffee from the reusable mug you’ve brought from home. your coffin, french topped acrylics click against the stainless steel beneath the sound of your constant complaining.

and of course, because your daddy bought his precious babygirl a spot in this show for a small cost of several thousands of dollars, every wish and whim you demand is fulfilled.

the makeup artist sighs for the umptenth time. if hobie is tired, imagine how tired he is. having to nearly redesign the entire look to satisfy your needs. marco has to take a patient, restrained breath.

he sets the brush down and pops open the palette to display the limited choices of colors. he feels insulted, knowing exactly what should go where, what shade is perfect for what but instead, he is forced to prioritize your requests all because you paid your way in. god, he hates nepotism babies. “well, these are the options. as you can see, that one is too dark and because of your rich skin tone, the other one will not show up as pigmented at this one. if i use a light hand and diffuse the color, you might end up liking it. can i try that?”

hobie tuts, watching the interaction at his paralleled chair. he’s finished with hair and makeup a while before you. truthfully, no one would be here nearly this early if they weren’t working with you. it’s not an industry secret that you’re difficult, solely depending on your father to garner influence.

don’t get him wrong, hobie thinks you’re beautiful. you have a chance at being a successful runway model simply off your looks alone but your attitude tanks all opportunity before you even get the chance.

“jesus, man. why are you askin’ her? just do it and if she doesn’t like it, too fuckin’ bad.” he seethes, a little less than quietly. his nails are devoid of his signature black color and well manicured. they’re glossy because of the clear top coat and mindlessly flipping through a magazine.

it’s as if everyone anticipates your meltdown with a silent breath. it’s almost certain that you’ve never heard no a day in your life. it carries on even now, everyone dancing around your words and boundaries. no one here has ever told you no, either. they have no plans to, seeing how you slowly turn your head towards hobie.

your hair, a mix of kankelon and your own, swings back and forth in the thick masses of bubble braids. the fluttering of your long wispy eyelashes would have been alluring if it weren’t for the warble that started in your throat. “you don’t know what you’re talking about. some people enjoy constructive criticism instead of taking everything at face value!”

you slam your mug down against the smooth black surface of the vanity, causing a few brushes to roll and clatter to the floor. you barely pay them any attention when marco bends to scoop them up and whisks them away to be sanitized, partially to avoid being roped into the conversation.

“this show is going to be amazing and i am going to be the best part of it because i actually have great opinions. what do you even do here? what’s your job? to make everyone else look better?” you cross your legs and cock your head to the side, glowering at him.

hobie guesses you mean to be intimidating but he takes your tantrum as childish. he isn’t interested in the back and forth, sighing and leaning back in his chair. his long, statuesque figure takes up more space than needs be, elbows dangling haphazardly over the sides as he folds his arms over the armrests. “yeah, okay. sure.”

he offers slow blinks and no further comment until you’re huffing and turning back around to fuss over the next item. the sound of your voice still vibrates and bounces off the inside of his head, soliciting a deep groan and a rub on his temple.

he supposes asking you to shut the hell up is out of the question, lest he want to be subjected to more insults and glares. hobie swears this is his last show, his last time being booked for a gig to entertain the upper class. sure, he’s encountered all kinds of spoiled brats who have people bending at their will but you, by far, are the most spoiled and bratty of them all.

“see. i told you, that just looks stupid!” your high pitched shriek breaks what little resolve he has left in him, twisting his already worked nerves into a tight ball and setting them on fire.

“ ‘m going out for a break,” hobie mumbles beneath the stylists and makeup artists trying to work you down from another blow up. they don’t notice how he stands and slips away from the crowd, still decked out in designer.

his shoes, a bit too flat and shapeless for his liking, do nothing to aid in a smooth passage to the back exit. he can feel each step he takes, even the lace pants that bunch and gather under him. the length of his attire is impractical but the rich will pay for anything.

he’s only greeted with peace of mind when he pushes the door open and takes a step out into the fresh early morning. the sun is is beginning to rise and coax the sky into a mix of romantic colors and the air is cold and crisp, providing his lungs with sharp relaxation.

new york is still busy at this time, still full of hustle and bustle that thankfully drowns you out. it does nothing to quell his headache but he decides that if he has to experience a hangover, he’d rather hand his misfortune over to the city.

his vacation is short lived, however, because he feels a small finger jabbing his rib cage with an impatient pattern.

hobie’s acknowledgment is slow. he takes his time to rip himself away from the outside world, turning his body to face the perpetrator, who just happens to be you. “what?” it’s curt and short, lacing his usual warmth and welcome.

“we’re starting our pre-show run. they want you there.” your hands, covered in silk gloves, are crossed over your chest. you somehow manage to look down on him, despite hobie being taller. the flounce of each white layer on your dress swishes along your thighs when you pivot and stalk away without a reply.

hobie doesn’t miss the same pale blue eyeshadow over your eye, locked under a layer of glitter and gloss. someone must have talked you into it. this all could have been avoided if you just agreed from the beginning.

“fuck me,” he mumbles, hands going to clasp and rest on the top of his head.

the door behind him swings shut and hobie is trapped again, with you and your whining, making the day difficult for everyone else. he shuffles forward, face pulled into a tense frown. he takes his spot in the jumbled crowd of models, all waiting to take their turn.

he blends in with the crowd just fine, silently slipping in between two warm bodies, just as unhappy to be here this early in the morning at he is. all courtesy of you.

you, who stands in front because you demanded to be the opening of the show and got your way when your daddy threw in a couple more thousands. you are almost cheery, bouncing on your toes to the upbeat music sounding out the speakers around the room. you’re the only one enjoying yourself at the cost of everyone’s expense.

someone needs to take you down a notch. that’s what hobie thinks and what he continues to think when you disappear in front of of the curtain. hobie’s eyes drift to the tv, reflecting your slinky walk down the runway.

you’re not all that bad. a little stiff in some places and a little too loose in others. hobie thinks you could easily benefit from some tips and a few days work. he doesn’t think you’ll take it, knowing you’re too headstrong to believe you’re anything less than perfect. you’re definitely not good enough to be opening the show. that’s neither here nor there and he doesn’t care enough about your success to comment on it.

instead, he keeps his thoughts to himself and powers through, taking his own powerful and evenly distributed steps down the sleek platform.

the rest of the morning goes like this, taking turns during the choreographed walk and being whisked away to try on the next thing. it’s well into the day when the sun has risen and the birds are active that everyone is allotted a break, free to grab lunch and return home for the evening.

hobie makes his way towards the door, his bag swung over his shoulder. he doesn’t announce his leave the way he sees others around him do. he doesn’t care to, doesn’t consider himself cool with anyone. he just comes, does his job, and goes home. he’s fairly surprised, although not pleasantly, to see you waiting at the door as well, sporting a pink tracksuit and slip on uggs.

against every sensible bone in his body, hobie finds himself stopping beside you. his expression is already full of regret before he can speak.

you cast a sideways glance at him, both curious and judgmental before punching in more texts on your phone, demanding that your driver arrives faster so you don’t have to stand out in the street. not that you’ve even left the building. the idea of comparing to the normal class in any way disgusts you.

“you did good, today.” hobie says through a strained breath, staring out the glass panelling of the door. why did he stop? he doesn’t know. maybe to confirm that you truly are one of the worst people he’s ever met.

“i know.”

hobie waits. he gives you a second to build on that and maybe, just maybe, display an ounce of politeness but nothing comes. he can’t help but laugh at his hopefulness, shaking his head to erase any possibility that you might be a good person.

“what’s funny about that?” you immediately jump to the offense, turning your body until you’re facing him. you got your mouth all screwed up into a scowl.

the image you give him only makes hobie’s chuckles increase until he’s smiling at how stupid this whole thing is. “you are so rude, you know that? a selfish little thing, you are.”

you don’t take well to being called selfish or rude. as far as you know, you’re the only one carrying their weight around here. “did i offend you in some way? is this because you realized you have to try harder around me?”

“did it ever occur to you that the reason we’re here so early in the morning is because you tack on another two hours with your complainin’?” hobie tightens his grip on the shoulder strap of his bag. he has to remind himself to keep his voice tame, not wanting to be caught in a scandal framed as a giant man yelling at the sweetest girl. he’s sure you’d activate some victimizing tears and land him farther in trouble with the public.

“well, that’s because i’m – ”

“you’re the only one with good opinions. whatever, i don’t care. i think i speak for everyone when i say this, though. learn to shut the fuck up and let everyone do their jobs the way they’re supposed to be done.”

you both stand and stare at each other silence. you because it’s unbelievable that he’d have the gall to come up to you and say that. him because he really needs to cement just how suffocating you are when you speak.

“excuse me?” is what you settle on with a challenging glare in your eye, taking a step towards him and your head tilted to the side.

hobie brushes you off, though. he’s said what he’s needed to say and doesn’t see the point in entertaining this any longer. “have a good one.” he walks right past you and out the door, satisfied with himself for being the one to tell you about yourself.

the following day is much better, oddly enough. hobie expected you to lash back at him after your conversation. it’s shocking when you’re pliant and receptive to everyone, smiling when you’re addressed.

you even go as far to smile at him. you greeted him when he walked in, leading hobie into a false sense of security. he’s so comfortable with your good behavior, he almost is able to forgive and forget your attitude.

almost.

“hobie?”

he’s surprised to get a call from his manager, bringing the cool tempered glass up to his ear. the silver backing of his phone is caseless and reflects the bright white lights hanging from the ceiling. hobie blends into the background, wearing his off duty outfit, sporting a black top he cropped himself with a pair of kitchen scissors and some black sweatpants. he offsets the cold city morning with a thick puffer jacket and fingerless gloves. his feet hidden behind equally thick socks and stocky black boots. “yeah, wass’up?”

his accent leaks in every word, following the sense of dread that something has gone wrong. his radar goes haywire when you suddenly appear near by, idling with the smuggest smile he’d seen all week.

what did you do?

“you pissed her off, man. clean off. you’re not going to like this.”

“just spit it out, peter.” hobie finds himself having to round the corner to stand behind a pillar, his hand coming down to drag across his face. he doesn’t have to ask who the she is because it’s so obvious. only you would be so evil to do something so bad, his manager would have to call him.

“you know how the brand was so excited to work with you because you fit their style really well?”

“yes,” hobie draws it out real slow. his heart is already racing in anticipation. he hated these things as much as the next punk guy but they made him so much money, and hobie wasn’t doing too great financially right now. all his stealing and evading “justice” was starting to creep up on him and the last thing he wanted was to end up in the slammer.

sure he’s all rough and tough on paper but he knows he wouldn’t last a second behind bars.

“well now . . ., someone has offered them a large sum of money to lower your appearances to one so not only do you now walk once but you’re getting paid significantly less.”

if hobie was in a cartoon, he’d have steam pouring out his ears. his stomach twists itself into sour knots, tighter and tighter he feels like he’s going to be sick. peter is saying something, words fading into the background of hobie’s thoughts, all screaming into the void about how inconsiderate you are. how careless, how selfish, how bratty.

“pete, i have to go.” his thumb smashes against the big red button on the keypad. everything in his body is blaring with the red alert of his ending patience. he’s been lenient, he thinks. only speaking to you when you’ve really done it for him. otherwise, he’s left you alone. sure, he told marco to stop letting you dog him and told you off for your behavior but none of that justifies something as cruel as this.

“what’s wrong? get some bad news?” you grin when hobie comes stalking up to you. something like a delightful chill runs down your back when you see just how unnerved he is. you’ve never gotten anyone to glare at you as hard as hobie is doing.

“we need to have a talk,” hobie says with his hand circling around your wrist, smoothed and evenly tanned from expensive skincare treatments and luxurious vacations out the country. he is prepared to ignore your whines about how he’s dragging you across the room but to his surprise, there is none.

other than the sounds of quiet huffs of annoyance, you’re compliant enough to follow him. your feet drag, moonboots scraping against the concrete flooring. the sound just irritates hobie more.

he pulls you behind the partitioned dressing stall, yanking the white linen closed across the metal curtain rod. the small space is a tight fit, boxy and barely enough room to fit two people. fortunately, hobie is lanky enough to squeeze anywhere, unaffected with the way you puff your chest to seem more intimidating than you are.

his arms are crossed ever so tightly over his chest and yours are planted over your hips. neither of you say a word to the other, staring each other down in a silent battle of dominance.

“did you get me cut down from the show?” hobie finally spits out. his blood is boiling and he doesn’t have the time to play this game with you.

“and if i did?” you snap back with a provoking swivel of your head. you jut your chin out, eyes examining him up and down. you’re wordlessly declaring how unserious you take him and his temper. “are you going to yell at me some more because that would be a huge mistake. you don’t even know how badly i could ruin your career.”

his hand slots over his face, the web between his thumb and pointer finger rubs against the bridge of his nose. each word that rolls out your mouth has his brain rattling. none of those are anything near remorse and he’s sick of you getting away with whatever you want. “are things not goin’ well for you at home? what is this about, hm? is this all to get attention or what?”

“excuse me?” you’re miffed, eyes nearly bulging out of your head.

“that’s how it goes with you lot, ‘innit? do somethin’ crazy for attention cause you’re not gettin’ it at home.” he looks down at you, not physically but emotionally, mentally. he pities you and your need to be the center of attention. that’s what this is, isn’t it? you must live a lonely lifestyle.

you take a step towards him. in the small box you’re confined, it’s more of a half step. your finger jabs against his chest, venom dripping into each word. “you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. don’t make assumptions and mind your own fucking business.”

if hobie was angry before, he’s fuming now. this is ridiculous. to be going back and forth with a little girl that doesn’t know how to mind her tongue and is telling him to stay out of her life. “oh, that’s real rich comin’ from you. like you didn’t go and meddle with how much i’m going to get paid for this.” he swats at your hand with enough force to have put pushed away from his chest and back to your side.

“oh, whatever. i’m not going to stand here and keep talking about this.” you roll your eyes, turning away to leave hobie standing here alone. you’re only able to reach for the heavy curtain, fingertips just ghosting the fabric before you feel hands at your waist, pulling you in until your back is pressed against the cold mirror. it rattles against the impact, wobbling and clanking in the metal that holds it together.

you find hobie merely inches away from your face. he invades all of your senses at once, breath smelling of spearmint and calloused hands fisting the loose sweater you sport. it’s buttery soft and worth every pretty penny.

you’re so pretentious.

“you don’t get to walk away from me. you wanted to run your mouth. keep runnin’ it.” hobie is close enough to smell the strawberry pound cake perfume on your clothes. the glitter of your cherry flavored lipgloss reflects in the light, pink and silver. he’s unhappy with the way you sneer at him.

“then we’re going to sit here in silence because i don’t want to talk to you about this, or anything, ever.” you turn your cheek to him and close your eyes to solidify your point.

hobie hooks his fingers under your chin and forced your attention, jerking your head back with enough shock to have your eyes popping open. a whine, mixed with an almost animalistic arousal and surprise slips through your closed lips, to your dismay. you did not mean to do that.

“what was that?” he asks, hand still pushing your lips together until your lips are pursed and pouty.

you wiggle in his hold, only inching farther up against the mirror until you’re standing on your toes in dire search of space. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

playing dumb is your only solace when he’s staring at you like this, scrutinizing your every move. his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, slow and heavy, as his thoughts race together. they all come to the same conclusion, a screeching halt at one verdict.

“needy thing, you are. should have known you’d want me to do somethin’ like this. gettin’ me all mad so i can push you against the wall like this.” he adjusts his grip. instead of holding you against the glass, he holds you in place, planted firmly in your spot.

you don’t notice the way your legs slide themselves apart but hobie does and he’s quick to take advantage of it. his hand darts down under the hem of the thick striped sweater, meeting the tight spandex of your safety shorts underneath.

there’s a moment of stillness where he gives you a moment to stop him, searching your eyes for any sign of reluctance or a squeak of displeasure but none comes. you simply watch him your chocolate colored eyes, darting between his attention and his lips, messily lined with a black liner.

“hm,” he scoffs with a handful of your shorts and tugs them down with a snap of his wrist. hobie is met with resistance from the friction of your thin, nearly sheer, black tights. “put up a fight for what?” his hand digs behind the waistband of your tights and panties to bury between your hot and sticky folds. he finds your clit, growing puffy from need and pinches it between his fingers.

the back of your hand comes pressed against your lips to swallow your whimper come the sound of shoes pattering across the dark gray flooring just outside the curtain. you’re reminded in that short span of a few seconds that you’re not the only ones in the establishment.

you only end up pressing both hands against your lips when he rolls the hardening bud between his thumb and pointer finger. it has your hips bucking in a fight to satiate your growing need for more.

“fuck you being so quiet for? where that mouth, hm? nothin’ to say now that i’m playin’ with your pussy like this?” hobie tilts his head, fingers continuing to toy with you until you’re soppy enough to have the pads on the tips of his digits pruning.

hobie swears he can hear the squelching when his fingers dip towards your entrance and smear more of your arousal on your already dripping cunt. each swipe of his fingers against your nerves draws another mewl out your body, almost against your will.

“s – shut up!” you slam your fist against his chest. your body reacts before your brain does, rolling your hips into his hand in an attempt to entice it to the more needier parts.

it works, but not in the way you’d think. hobie’s eye twitches, just barely. he pulls your shorts down to your ankles when another swift tug and digs his nails into the polyester fabric of your tights. it tears apart with a few pops. he yanks the seat of your thong to the side, securing it in place on the round globe that is one of your buttcheeks. “who are you talkin’ to?”

three melodies slaps to your cunt rings through the air in a continuous stream. they’re harsh and wet and leave you withering, standing up by the grace of your willpower. your legs shake with each impact, accompanied with a shriek and your hand flies to the wall to steady you.

“just won’t learn to shut your mouth, will you?” hobie grunts under the voices questioning that unusual sound, unbeknownst to them was coming from you.

you both listen to the “what was that” and the “i don’t know”, you with the roundest doe eyes hobie’s ever seen. you’re nervous, whirring the idea of getting caught around your head. it makes your heart pound but your skin flushes with a newfound warmth.

“i’m sorry,” you say in a hushed whisper. you’re hesitant, not too pleased to be admitting defeat but you have no other choice. not when hobie is experimentally one long finger past your folds.

it’s slender and deep, reaching crevices you didn’t know was possible. never have you never able to do it yourself, nor has any of your previous casual experiences. it has your head reeling back against the mirror. the part down the center your scalp leaves you rightfully balanced.

hobie finds that you suck him right in. you’re so annoying like that, catching an attitude when he doesn’t touch the places you like, only to be reduced to apologies and sweet whispers. “yeah, i’m sure you are.” he says with his finger pumping at an agonizingly slow pace. his goal is not to make you feel good, but to make room enough for another.

it’s enough to have to you mewling. your hips roll forward and your clit bumps against the rough callouses that is hobie’s palm. your hand lifts and falls on his shoulder. you wring his shirt in between your fingers under the fabric is strained in his grip.

he makes you feel small, the way hobie eyes bore into you. he swallows each and every sound you make with his loud presence, fogging your thoughts with the smell of his cologne. it irks you, how he’s knocked you off a few pegs until you’re below him.

“i hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth. “i hate you so much. you’re just a lowlife.” you’re grappling for power, even though you’re quite literally under him. hobie’s taken up so much of your space that you have to tilt your head up to him. he’s so close you can see the freckles dotted over his cheeks.

his lips curl in on themselves. his expression squints and squeezes until it’s full of scorn. “keep fuckin’ talkin’,” he shoves another finger next to the other, dripping in the sheen of your arousal. he snaps his wrists in an aggressive up and down manner, ripping a gasp out of you.

you’re getting loud with the stimulation of his fingers inside you. your body swivels in an infinite loop of needing more of him but being unable to take it. you’re grateful when hobie cradles your head into your chest to mute your moans.

his large hand engulfs the back of your head. despite his words, this hold and gentle and safe. there’s a very thin line hobie teeters between, acting as a decent human being and being so extremely pissed off with you. messing with his pay like this.

“mmmf . . .,” you hum against his toned chest. your mouth falls open with puffs of breath. you whine and whimper into him. you fall still at the impact of his fingers, jerking so quickly in you the mirror rattles in its clips. “oh my gosh. please, fuck –!”

your orgasm comes as a surprise to no one. you’d be blind to not anticipate it by to the way you mewl and moan at his attention. it builds up and up and up and —

hobie rips his hand away. he ruthlessly deprives you of the ultimate sense of pleasure. his pride swells when you are turned into nothing but a bundle of whines of displeasure and drool.

his lips curl into something of a sadistic grin, gleaming white incisors poking through the corners. he’s even more smug when you tilt your little head at him, eyes full of pitiful tears just threatening to spill over your eyelashes.

“hobie, please?” it’s unbelievable that you’re pleading with him, hands sliding down until they grasp the waistband of his sweats. “not being nice.” your lip trembles, the two-toned browned skin comes to tuck beneath your teeth.

“don’t deserve it,” hobie clutches your chin in between his fingers, thumb on one side, pointer on the other. “beggin’ me like this after givin’ me so much attitude.”

you look so dollike and sweet like this. finally, finally, docile and bending to his will. it didn’t take him long at all, just needed to give you some attention to calm you down.

he almost feels bad for you.

it’s not enough to stop him from dropping to his knees and lifting a soft, glowing thigh over his shoulder. he massages the skin with the pads of his fingers, kissing the inner of your leg while taking in the scent of your sex, tangy like a pineapple on a summer day. 

“forgot to take these offa’ you.” his lips ghost over the material of your underwear. hobie leaves it secured where it is as he continues his trek and ignores the pants of anticipation when he eventually reaches your puffy bundle of nerves. “just hold em’ if they slip, yeah?”

you hum in hushed agreement. your hands move on their own, entangling in the coils of his coarse locs. they dig in his scalp and pull at his hair. in response, hobie is tugged closer until his tongue is slotted against your leaking cunt.

he obliges without complaint, slurping at your juices with steadying your hip and the other keeping your leg hooked on his shoulder. it’s sloppy, the mix of saliva and arousal dribbling down his chin and leaving your inner thighs glistening.

your attempt to maintain your discreetness is weak. there’s always a squeak, squeal, or hum leaving your lips when hobie’s tongue digs deep in your crevices and rolls your hips against his lips.

he, for one, doesn’t care who just so happens to walk by at the wrong time or is careless enough to pull the stiff curtain back. he does know that you care, though, and is leaving it up to you. you want to remain “respectable” and “perfect”. that is your responsibility.

with each voice that draws nearer, you try to quell your noises, swallowing each sob that accompanies each shake or twitch of your body. your almost restrained like this, having to choke back a moan.

hobie is all too good at this, lapping at your cream like a starved man offered from the cornucopia of heaven. twice now, has his long tongue slipped past your folds and flattened over the puckered rim of your ass.

his lips wrap and suckle around your clit, leaving just enough space for the pad of his thumb to circle around to your entrance. it dips inside and pulls away with enough frequency to force a reaction, a confined gasp and whimper.

“hobie! fuck you’re so –” you yank his hair in all different directions, brain foggy and unable to truly comprehend anything. you’re just over the cusp of overwhelmed, jerking against him and unsure if you want more or are ready to tap out.

he only chuckles beneath you, pulling away from your nub with a pop. his fingers become buried in you again without warning. it happens with ease until they’re knuckle deep, despite your wordless protests when you’re unintentionally attempting to escape. “swear you make it so difficult, dolly. how hard is it to take it? hm?”

it’s not really a punishment, considering how much you like it. love it, even. enjoying it so deeply you’re sure your walls will mold into his shape. your chest rises and falls, representing the waves of pleasure crashing against your body. the tightening ball in your tummy returns, wrapping itself tighter and tighter. there’s a moment you fear you’ll be denied again when your body begins to physically curl in to itself, falling silent with an open mouth.

hobie only coaxes you by returning to being gentle kisses to your skin, breathing in your natural scent with the subtle hint of the strawberry scented perfume. it’s a shame you’re not as sweet as your smell, or even the sounds you make.

even now, when you’re shaking and drunk of pleasure, this is possibly the sweetest you’ve ever been. fucked out from his fingers alone and eyes rolling back, already. your little cunt squeezes out every drop of cum it possibly can, leaving your legs shaking and pushing his hand away from your sensitive parts. 

your voice is all breathy when you speak. “holy shit,” you finally find your strength to stand, licking your dry lips to dampen them. you turn your attention down to hobie, arrogantly smiling at you as he just shy of shoves your leg off his shoulder.

“don’t look at me like that.” you twist your expression until you’re scowling, puffing your cheeks.

hobie can’t take you seriously. even after he’s pulled your panties to the side, got you to shut up, and fingered you to oblivion, you’re still so very stubborn. “if you stopped talkin’ so much, so many more people would like you,” he runs his fingers his fingers up and down your legs.

“how about you shut the fuck up?”

“i’ll do you one better.”

it’s too bad you don’t notice the widespread sadistic grin across his face. hobie jostles you around by your hips until your turned and facing the mirror. your boobs feel the cold and exposing air when he pulls your sweater and bra up.

your eyes are wide as hobie maneuvers you like a doll, guiding parts of your body into certain positions. “what are you doing?” you ask him when he pushes down on your back until it’s arched. your legs are spread apart and your brown erect nipples are being rolled between his fingers. 

“what are you doing?” you say again, body squirming against both the mirror and hobie’s crotch. your cheek is forced against it because you’re too busy holding yourself up using the wooden bench attached to it. 

you receive no response except for the sound of fabric shuffling about. your limited vision gives view of hobie dropping his sweats and briefs far enough to get his dick out. your mouth automatically waters at the sight, thick and veiny. it’s almost angry, glistening with hobie’s arousal from just touching you. it’s fully erect and firm when it slaps against your pussy.

“you ask too many questions,” he says, just barely dipping his swollen tip past your folds. hobie gets a taste of your body this way. the warmth of your walls paired with the sopping wetness of your arousal. even down to the way you immediately react, he soaks it up.

he still finds you to be a bit mouthy. it’s almost as if you’re unaware your cheek in pressed against the mirror and your tits are dangling into the palm of his hand. the other one, free of your body, runs along your smooth skin.

you can feel the tips of his fingers ghost over you. from your position, there’s not much of a view, especially with the way you’re pressed and craned into this compact space. despite your agitation and resistance, you comply when he guides your body into the arch. the curve of your spine dips, causing the globe of your ass to lift and be pressed right against his lap

you huff in anticipation when you feel the tip of hobie’s dick press against your entrance.  you’re not going to lie to yourself and say that the stretch from just a few inches causes you to tense. it’s been a minute since the last time you were fucked to the fault of your relentless attitude, something you refuse to let go of.

you squeeze your face, contorting to display your displeasure. for a split second, you consider the idea that it won’t fit. you reach back for his stomach to push him off you, convinced you’re unable to make this happen. “mm-mm,” a hum leaves your lips, pressed tightly together. your eyes flutter close, wispy and dollike lashes brushing against your cheek.

“y’gotta relax, mama. you’re gonna be fine.” hobie clasps your hand in his, rather than allowing you to escape him. don’t get him wrong, he resents you but he isn’t an asshole. he doesn’t force his way in you, not completely anyway. hobie waits just until you’re soft enough to be molded like clay. only then does he thrusts his hips forward just enough to get you over the edge.

you shriek for a second and unintentionally dig your nails into hobie’s hand. you leave indents in your wake, balling your fist and turning your head into your elbow in an attempt to muffle yourself. it’s unexpected but the pain very quickly burns itself into pleasure.

you feel so full like this. you like to think you’d be perfectly content if hobie opted to not move and instead hold you like this but it’s not something you’d tell him.

“there you go.” you hear hobie say. he sounds conceited about it too, getting off on the image you give him. gasping and twitching and all he did was stick it in. “good fuckin’ girl.”

a mewl builds up in your throat but you swallow it. it’s worse enough he’s had to coach you to take him. you can’t already let him hear you like he’s bitching you. “. . . shut up.” it takes you a moment to work the words out, lids still closed and fist still clenched.

hobie scoffs. he rolls his own eyes. he doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand you. seven inches deep and you’re still giving him orders. like the near humiliation wasn’t enough to knock you down a few notches. shut up this and shut up that. is that all you can say?

“y’know, i’d be so much nicer if you didn’t act so terribly for no reason. what did i do to deserve this, hm?” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping and rubbing along whatever he can reach. your hips, your spine, the tops of your thighs.

your lack of response is taken as a sign of complacency. you didn’t know what to say because he’s right. hobie did nothing to deserve this but treat you like a normal human being.

heaven forbid.

he snaps his hips forward, eyes boring into the back of your head. hobie own face screws up in a display of pleasure. it’s nothing compared to the near scream that falls from your lips from his sudden action.

it’s unexpected. just as unexpected as his hands wrapping around your body, one stationed securely at your hip and the other sliding up your chest and gripping your throat. it’s firm, fingers swallowing the column with just enough force to maintain your position.

“look. look in the mirror and watch how i fuck you.” hobie cocks his head, thumb brushing across your jawline. the skin is soft and no doubt also attributed to your lifestyle. “i know you want it, cunt flutterin’ on me.”

the stubborn part of you can’t resist shaking your head in denial, despite the new gush of slick coating your thighs.

“no?” his tongue catches the fat of his lip and tucks it under his teeth. he supposes it’s fine, your instance of denying everything he says. he’s tired of talking, anyway. instead, he anchors you flush against him and draws his hips back. 

the relief is only temporary because hobie slams forward just as quickly as before. each thrust sounds off with a reverberating slap of skin. you barely hear it, too busy swallowing what moans build in your throat.

you’re forced to watch, tits jiggling in the mirror. you have no range to squirm. instead, your toes curl inside your shoes. your arms shake to hold yourself up, despite not needing to. hobie had you right where he wanted with no room to escape.

your head drops forward. your insides are on fire, filled to the brim with dick. it’s repetitive and knocks the wind out of your lungs with each stroke.

“please,” you sob, eyes filling with salty tears. they spill over your waterline and plop onto the bench in inaudible plinks! 

your pleas falls on deaf ears. instead, hobie lands two smacks on your ass. it heats under his touch and jiggles on impact. at first, the smacks serve as a warning but he can’t help but indulge for just a moment. the skin tints with an undertone of red with the more merciless spanks on your cheeks.

“please what?” hobie’s hand leaves the base of your throat and entangled in the length of your hair. he wraps it around his hand, only to tug it back until your head is lifted and he gets a clear view of your pretty brown eyes glossed over and blown out. “thought you didn’t want this. want me to stop?”

your mouth gapes open only to close without a word. you’re hesitant to respond, having no intention of asking him to pull out. you merely whine in desperation and wiggle your hips.

your reward for your decision is him sinking his cock into your tight pussy. it’s almost as if hobie didn’t pause to begin with. instead, his pace is vigorous. it’s constant pressure, merciless and bouncing you around from sheer force.

your hand flies to wall, almost banging against it in an effort to find purchase somewhere. anywhere you could possibly release the growing tension all over your body, particularly your core. “oh my gosh! oh my days!”

hobie yanks your head back even farther, nearly resting against his shoulder. again, does his fingers wrap around the base of your throat and steady you there. he’s lucky enough to catch your eyes roll back. in tandem, it’s difficult to miss the clench of your walls around him. 

“well shit, baby,” hobie says. his breath fans over your check. the smell of your pussy still lingers on his breath. it sends a small wave of embarrassment crashing over you but only for a minute. it’s drowned out by red hot lust burning your insides.

“you like that shit, don’t you?” it’s a warm whisper in your ear surrounded by grunts and wet kisses against your shoulder. “so fuckin’ wet. bet you can feel me nice and deep. tell me you like it, dolly. i want to hear you say it.”

his fingers brush against your clit and elicits a gasp. by now your legs shake, ready to collapse under your weight. “i – it’s so good. it’s so good, ‘obie. i like it so much. please! wanna cum.”

“too loud,” hobie mumbles, tongue dragging across the crevices off your collar. he resolves the issue by squeezing your cheeks together until they are forced in a pucker. he pushes his fingers past your lips and flatten against your tongue.

you let out a surprised choke, saliva pooling in your mouth. you’re unable to voice anything other than haggard breaths and hummed moans. you enclose your hand around his wrist. the other rests on his bare hip. not once do you resist or push him away. you solely dig your nails into his skin, chest heaving with each draw of breath.

“gonna cum, hm? gettin’ so tight, lovely. can feel that shit, like you’re gonna snap me in half.” hobie slide his fingers farther down the slope of your tongue until you’re nearly gagging.

you manage to hum a “mm-hm”, drool gurgling and spilling down your chin. you can imagine the image you’re giving, filthy and desperate, but it’s the least of your concerns with each thrust and caress of your clit.

he doesn’t have to give you permission, doesn’t have to tell you when you can. hobie doesn’t want to. he’d much rather push you to the edge, rubbing your clit in quick circles. they compliment the jerk of his dick against that spot that has you spurting your watery cum. had his fingers not been down your throat, there’s no doubt the air would be thick with soundy whimpers.

behind you, hobie does the unexpected. he’s quick to push you forward, pulling out with a quiver. he whines, whines when shooting thick ropes of cum over your asscheeks. you get a faint glimpse of him pumping out every drop with a tight hand wrapped around the shaft.

it’s mesmerizing, the scrunched up face he makes when he cums. it’s been you who’s had the lower hand and been watched with curious eyes. for a brief moment, it’s your turn.

your turn to watch hobie stare at the mess he’s made over your skin. you think he’s going to leave you at that but instead he lowers himself down and eagerly laps it up.

your eyes widen at the sight. he could have figured out any other way clean you up and chose the most explicit, massaging your hips with each drag.

“hobie . . .” you’re at a loss for words, torn between telling him it’s unnecessary and too amazed to stop him.

“are you going to say your sorry?” he’s kneeling now, turning you around until you’re facing him. hobie looks up at you, almost innocent-like. had he not been making his way to suckle at your cunt, maybe he would have been.

you lurch away, far too sensitive to handle another round, right now.

“relax, mama. jus’ tryna clean you up. promise.” he presses a relaxing kiss against your inner thigh until you’re soft in his hands again. “are you sorry or what?”

you consider the position you find yourself in now and in the previous minutes. your cheeks flush when the weight of your actions come crashing down and your hands, resting on his shoulders, are reluctantly drawing back. “are you going to use this against me?” a chill runs down your spine when his tongue smooths over your folds.

hobie’s eyebrows knit together. he’s perplexed you’d think that of him. “oh, absolutely not. i’m not you. jus’ got tired of it. so are you sorry or not?”

you’re prepared to answer, mouth gaping open before you’re interrupted by a knock on the other side of the curtain, probably on what little solid surface there is.

“if you guys are done uh, fighting, everyone else is ready to go.”

hobie is far more composed about this than he is. “ ‘kay,” he says, eyes never leaving yours. his question, unanswered, still lingers. the only thing that’s changed is that he’s now standing and putting his clothes back on, waiting for your response. “i’m willing to put this all behind us if you just apologize. you have no idea what you’ve just done and i can’t expect you to understand and doubt that you’ll fix what you’ve done, but can you at least say you’re sorry?”

your shift your weight, gathering the different articles of your clothing and pulling them on your body. it’s difficult in this small space with him but you manage. “i dunno. you were kinda mean so —“

“ ☆ , i’m serious.” he catches you with a heavy gaze. for once, there’s no hint of anger. he’s being sincere with his hurt and you can’t deny the guilt you’re filled with. “you messed everything up so bad. you’re strong, you’re powerful, you can do what you want, whatever. i don’t care. i just need you to understand that i deserve an apology.”

you adjust the sweater on your body to avoid the tension in the air. there’s truly no way out of this. just you two in this room, him expecting an apology after bending and breaking your body. “i’m . . . sorry. you’re right, i guess. i’ll figure out how to undo it.” your voice only gets quieter and quieter with each word, putting your feet back into your boots.

it’s embarrassing and odd, apologizing. you can’t think of the last time you’ve done so and honestly don’t believe you would have if he hadn’t taken such methods to get it out of you.

oddly enough, it’s silent. you’re too cagey to meet hobie’s eyes and even while fully dressed, you’re stalling leaving the space.

it takes him a moment to speak as well, sighing to release what emotions he still carries about the situation. “thank you. if you fix it, i’ll stay out of your life. we’ll finish our job and never see each other again. i won’t talk about what happened to anyone and i’m sure you can manage to keep whatever you want between whoever is here. deal?”

your stomach twists into knots and fills with distaste. for what? you don’t know. you can’t put your finger on it but you find yourself nodding anyway.

what else can do you? disagree and risk the industry finding out what risky behavior you participated in? risk blemishing your reputation and have the public label you a whore?

“okay. deal.”

your response is satisfying enough for hobie to leave after patting your shoulder. presumably, that’ll be the last time you interact so personally but that’s not an assumption you think you like.

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