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#canvas art ideas easy
saintobio · 6 months
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blank canvas.
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problems arise when your tattoo artist boyfriend starts getting too cozy with the girls that wanted him to do more to their bodies than just inking their skin. the thing is, they knew what he wanted and they knew what you couldn’t give.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags. nudity, insecure!reader, virgin!reader, dry humping, mentions of needles, mentions of cheating, slutshaming
notes. if you’ve been here for a while, yes this is a repost from an old hq fic :’D i rewrote and remodeled it for sukuna bc i feel like he fits this au!
part 2 | part 3
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Sukuna had seen it all.
He wasn’t dumb and he most definitely wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was attractive, bringing him a clientele of adoring women who would frequently visit his tattoo parlor. Who could blame them? He was handsome, had a good physique, and an overwhelming aura that pulled the attraction of many women, single or not, who were desperate to vie for his attention. His tattoos and his dyed hair even added to the overall bad boy persona that he had which, to be fair, was a girl’s guilty pleasure. 
The women were very assertive, it seemed, to try and lure Sukuna into their little seduction game. Was he getting tempted into it? No. He was loyal and he’d like to stay loyal to his kind and beautiful girlfriend. After all, winning you over wasn’t as easy as it would with any other girl. 
However, there were certain moments that almost tested his loyalty to you, especially when some of the women would ask to have their tattoos done on the most intimate places of their bodies. 
Take yesterday as an example: one girl asked to have a tattoo on her buttocks and she was certainly more satisfied at the feeling of Sukuna’s palms on her bum rather than the actual tattoo she was getting. And to top it all, she bluntly asked if he offered more service rather than just giving tattoos. Crazy. 
He had previously mentioned it to you that as part of his job, he was obligated to give his clients the tattoos they requested, regardless of where on their bodies they wanted them. It was strictly business. Ironically, despite dating a tattoo artist like himself, you had no single trace of inked art on your body. You were an untouched canvas that had never been painted on. Still, Sukuna respected your choice and he surely respected your boundaries even more. 
He knew that you had always been a gentle girl when he first met you at the floral shop across the street. You were always prim and proper, always dressed modestly, always following the rules, and always doing the right thing. All you cared about doing was to express your love through the delicate petals you arranged in your flower-scented haven. You were happy to be in your own little bubble, content in the company of fragrant blossoms and soft-spoken solitude. Introverted. Reserved. Pure. Unassuming. He was the exception to your goody-two-shoes nature, because he ended up winning your heart despite being the complete opposite of you. It wasn’t an easy task, either. Deciding to get to know you was on a whim at first, since he was intrigued about your simple joys in life and how you weren’t the type of girls that would visit his tattoo parlor. Something about your demure nature pulled him in until he realized that there was nothing else he wanted in this world but to make you his. He began by greeting you every morning from across the street, then giving you the same bouquet of flowers he purchased from your shop, followed by sending you texts complimenting how beautiful you looked as he watched you from his store, and finally asking you out on spontaneous dates.
It may be a bit peculiar to see the two of you together, but Sukuna pursued you because liked you. He was undeniably in love with you. He liked your smile, liked how cute and adorable you were, and liked how a simple look at you made him want to be a better man. He loved the idea of being with a girl he could protect. 
The main issue was, Sukuna dropped out of college and just decided to open a tattoo parlor business because he simply didn’t want to waste his years studying for something that he wasn’t passionate about. But that was the source of your parents’ distaste. They told you that you had no future with a guy like him. They said that they would disown you as a daughter if you decided to choose him. They called him dirty, rebellious, and uneducated. 
At that point, he thought that you would leave him after learning his rather reckless choices in life, but you stayed. 
You left your parents' home and stayed with him.
And he was grateful that you did. 
So to ask the question again, would he ever do something to betray you after everything that happened between you two? Of course, not. Not in a million years, no
But then again, he was also just doing his job and it wasn’t like he was purposely flirting with the girls that often flocked him during work hours. He was simply accommodating a client. Nothing more, nothing less. 
And on one of those typical days, he had to work overtime when one of his returning clients asked for her fifth tattoo to be done by him. He just finished picking up the tools he needed as she walked towards the recliner seat asking, “Should I sit here?” 
He nodded once, turning around to face the girl who looked at him with her alluring eyes. “Yeah, just let me know when you’re ready.” 
Oh yes, she was surely ready. She even had a smirk displayed on her face when she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, keeping her gaze at him while teasingly revealing her busty pair. 
He didn’t really pay attention to the size of her tits but instead, just casually pointed to a certain part of her body, “Is this where you want it?” he asked, referring to the lower left part of her breast.
With a very flirtatious grin, she nodded, clearly knowing that her assets were her biggest weapon. “Yes. Would it be easier if I took off my bra, yeah?” 
“You don’t have to. I can work it out,” he casually responded, reaching for his glove and busying himself with all the tool preparations. 
The girl let out a silent giggle along with her best friend who sat on the side, waiting for her turn. Waiting to be the recipient of Sukuna’s full attention. Sigh. 
“No, I can take it off for you,” the girl insisted, unclasping her bra and setting her huge breasts free for him to ogle at. They were perfectly round, probably a 40D, and a light pink shade for her nipples. With how firm they were sitting on her chests, she had probably gotten them done.  
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he asked her to sit on the recliner chair. Sukuna had seen women half naked in his shop before, but this was the first time someone willingly got naked in front of him, most especially with other intentions rather than to simply get a tattoo. 
Because of the awkwardness, he went ahead and blasted some heavy metal music to distract his mind. He had to think of something else and not stare at the girl’s luscious tits. He had to shift his mind to somewhere else like, for example, why the girl chose a calligraphy of the words ‘la douleur exquise’ on her skin this time.
“Is this French?” he nonchalantly asked, motioning for her to rest her back while he wiped the chosen area with a damp cotton pad. He specifically avoided brushing his hand on her breast, but it looked like the girl was actually angling herself to make him touch it more. 
“It means exquisite pain,” she purred, batting her thick eyelashes at him. 
His lips formed a smirk, impressed at how much of a skank she was willing to be for him. It wasn’t new, as established before. He’d also had a fair share of women who tried to get into his pants last week, but none of them were successful. He actually found it entertaining to watch them do all sorts of stunts to make him give in. To make him submit himself to his carnal desires. He was a man after all. He had needs, he had to get some form of release, otherwise it could pose a problem in his masculinity. 
All while she was getting her tattoo done, the other girl got up from her seat to walk closer to her best friend. Sukuna decided to refer to them in his head as Slut 1 and Slut 2 because he had no intentions of knowing their names. He knew slut-shaming was terrible, but he never said he was a man of virtue and truthfully, how else could he describe them? 
“Hey, Sukuna,” the other girl called, sitting at an empty stool with a smile. “You’re single, right?” 
He kept his eyes focused on the skin he was inking on. “...No.” 
Even from the corner of his eye, he knew that both girls looked surprised, “No way? You have a girlfriend?” 
Was it really that much of a shock? 
“Yeah, she owns the floral shop across the street,” he mumbled, wiping the trace of blood on the girl’s skin after he finished another letter. 
There was a visible pout on Slut 1’s face as if learning that Sukuna had a girlfriend was more painful than the needle pricking at her skin. “So, what’s she like?” 
Sukuna thought for a while because he didn’t know where to begin. It was too much of a long story for them to hear about. You were everything he wanted in a woman and that was all he knew. “She’s cute and kind.” 
His words earned a giggle from Slut 2. “Is she like the good girl type?” 
“She is.” He figured it would be okay to converse about you like this. Besides, he would rather be talking about you than to have these girls just try to flirt with him relentlessly. 
“How much of a good girl, though?” Slut 1 egged on, “I bet she’s a virgin and a prude.” 
That was obviously none of their business, but damn. They hit a nerve that they shouldn’t have. No one else had managed to bring up a topic like that to him, more so a topic that he himself knew not to cross. His sex life wasn’t as fruitful as anyone thought so, yet not once in his life did he complain. Not once did he talk about it to anyone. Not once did he tell anyone that he had been dating you for a year now and you two never really went further than making out. 
“I respect her,” was his answer, much to the two girls’ dismay.
“That’s kinda boring, though,” the other girl claimed, draping her arm around his shoulder before leaning close to his ear. “You’re still a man and you have needs. If I were her, I’d sleep with you every day. In every position.” 
The girl on the recliner chair grinned. “Totally! Like, you’re so hot and I feel like you’re good in bed.” 
Fuck. 
He almost messed up one of the letters because his mind just flew to somewhere unforgivable. It was a sin to even think about, but shit, he definitely missed the feeling of fucking someone. He couldn’t even remember the last time he did so. 
“Sukuna?” 
He snapped out of his trance and looked up upon hearing the familiar voice, only to find you by the door, your eyes filled with hurt.
“Hey—” 
Your voice was caught in your throat as you avoided his gaze. “I just... I thought you were done.” 
In a swift motion, you hurriedly walked out of the room before dashing out the door. You didn’t even bother to look back, dead set on leaving him alone with the girls. Your footsteps were far too quick to even catch and he was hoping that you would at least slow down. 
“Babe!” he called, unable to chase after you as you shut the door. An exasperated sigh followed. 
This was going to be a big problem 
Just what was he thinking? 
He had a half naked girl in front of him and another girl clinging to him like he didn’t have a girlfriend. It must have hurt you a lot. No, it definitely wrecked you.
“Uh-oh...” the girl mocked. “I can sense trouble” 
He decided to leave it be for now and get his job done as soon as possible, even thinking of banning the two girls from going into his shop just to avoid further trouble. He had a lot of explaining to do and he couldn’t wait to go home to make sure that you would listen to him, not overthink the whole thing and place your assumptions because hurting you was the last thing he would do.
At least, he hoped you knew that.   
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You were washing the dishes when Sukuna came home and the first thing he did was to wrap his arms around you. He had your waist caged in his tight embrace, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered sweet nothings to you. To be real, you weren’t in the mood to see his face after what you saw this afternoon. You get it—he was exposed to all sorts of people with his line of work and most of them probably couldn’t just ignore his physical appearance. You were aware that some girls were only getting a tattoo to get close to him. Heck, you were aware that they all wanted to be with him.
But the only reason you were hurt wasn’t because he was desired by women, but because those very same women were all better than you in more ways than one. They fit his type more than you did and you were sure that they could give him exactly what he wanted. 
Still, it awfully tugged at your heartstrings. 
He was yours, not theirs. You had the right to be jealous when a girl was getting cozy with your man, but to see him letting them have their way? That was a different story. 
“Baby, talk to me,” he mumbled, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on your neck. 
You gave him the silent treatment as you walked away and dried your hands with a towel. What else would you say? He should already be aware of why you were acting that way. He should be the one to try and talk to you, not the other way around. And with your stubborn mind, you did your best to keep your insouciance, pulling his tattooed arms off of you and heading towards the couch. 
You could hear his sigh as he followed you, but you were determined to keep your eyes glued on the TV screen. If he wanted to talk, he should do the talking, you reminded yourself over and over. 
“You’re really pissed at me, huh,” he spoke as soon as he sat next to you, a hand carefully placed on your thigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“They’re pretty hot, aren’t they?” The bitter question left your mouth before you thought of holding back. 
He scooted closer and hooked an arm around your shoulder this time. “Definitely nowhere near as hot as my girlfriend.” 
What a load of… You rolled your eyes, remembering how the girls looked and how comfortable he was with them. “Yeah, right.” 
You couldn’t explain the tightness on your chest every time you recalled the scene earlier because you knew, you just knew, that there was more that could have happened if you didn’t check on him. You saw it in his eyes, even for a split second, that he almost gave in to temptation. How could he not? You were a prude just as they described—just because you didn’t have any sexual experience like they did. Perhaps when they called you boring, they were right and Sukuna wanted to agree. 
He couldn’t be stuck with a girlfriend that he couldn’t even have sex with, could he? 
“I shouldn’t have let them put their hands on me like that,” he admitted, showing his dire attempt to look apologetic. “Only you can.” 
You took a deep breath and shook your head. “I don’t even know why you’re still with me, Sukuna. I put so many boundaries between us. Don’t you get tired of me?” 
“Fuck no,” he quickly answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Never. You’re the only one for me.” 
Truth be told, you did feel bad that he couldn’t fully experience you as a girlfriend, but he had been very patient and respectful towards you. He never crossed the line and never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He said he was doing that because you never gave up on him even when you had the choice to. He said that you were worth waiting for. He said that he was satisfied with what you two already had.
Maybe you could let this one incident go, after all, he was never really a bad boyfriend to you. Sure, he looked like a bad boy, but when it came to you, he was surprisingly soft. 
“Okay,” you muttered, sighing in defeat and finally meeting his eyes. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t care if they get naked in front of you. Please set some boundaries and don’t entertain them too much or you’ll give off the wrong impression.” 
Your leniency earned a smile from him, delighted to earn your trust again so he made an effort to peck your lips. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“You’re annoying.” 
“You love me.” 
“I do,” you professed, placing a hand on his cheek, “so much.” 
Pleased with your words, he leaned in again to give you a much, much deeper kiss. He knew it was all he could do with you, but he wanted to make you feel that his kisses were satisfying enough for the both of you. Just with the way he moved his lips against yours and how your tongue rolled around his—it was almost impossible to breathe at one point, but he softened the kiss to allow yourself to catch some air. 
Gosh, you were jealous again. You were becoming annoyed as your mind ran at full speed, thinking of how those girls thought they could put their hands on your man. You were livid at how they tried to steal him from you. 
“You’re mine, right?” you asked for reassurance, pulling away to look at his dominating eyes. 
The smirk on his lips was replaced by a cheeky grin. “All yours, darling.” 
You didn’t know what gave you the sudden confidence to straddle his lap after he said that, but it just felt right. You wanted more of his physical affection and felt like you couldn’t get enough. Both of you were taken aback, obviously, because this wasn’t something you would normally do, and so the heat on your cheeks was mixing with the surprised look on his face. You were sitting directly on his crotch and he was having a hard time to control himself. 
“Babe,” he breathed on your neck. “You don’t have to force yourself.” 
He was right, but the thought of the other girls constantly seducing him behind your back just gave way to your deepest insecurities. You didn’t have the most perfect body in the world and you most definitely didn’t have the skills in bed that he expected—you were scared that you might lose him because of these facts. Or that he would find someone better, even at the cost of having them on the side. 
“Hey,” he spoke again, making you look at his eyes as you relaxed into his touch. “It’s fine. If you want it, I can be gentle. We can go slow.” 
“I-I don’t know... I just,” you hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. 
You didn’t know why sex intimidated you. It should be as easy as 1-2-3,  just him putting his member inside you, right? But you weren’t really scared of doing the act itself, you were scared that once you did it, he would leave you because he already got what he wanted. Losing it to the wrong person sounds like a nightmare and that was why you were having trouble coming into terms of losing your virginity before marriage. 
You could feel the hardness on his crotch pressing against your core and you didn’t expect a moan escaping your lips when you moved at the slightest. The fabric of your shorts were thin enough for you to feel the outline of his hardened member, displaying a prominent bulge on his sweatpants. You haven’t seen how big he was, but you could tell just by looking at his bulge that he was huge. Could you even take that? 
He held your waist and guided you to move again, this time urging you to move your hips back and forth, allowing you to feel the friction from his hard erection. Lust was clouding his eyes and it made you feel weak. 
“How does it feel?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your ear. 
You continued grinding on him with your lips parted, releasing your silent moans, “G-Good.”
He leaned forward to kiss your neck, eventually sucking the soft skin to leave his beautiful marks. “I wanna eat you down there, baby,” he growls under his breath, squeezing your right breast, “You’re gonna taste so good, I bet.” 
“Suku—” you whined, gripping his hair while he started matching your movements with his own. It was a foreign feeling for you to feel his bulge rubbing against your untouched core. 
“Fuck,” he cussed in a low voice, squeezing your ass with his huge hands in growing excitement. “Let me get a condom.” 
This was it. 
It was happening. 
Or was it?
Your eyes widened in panic as you pushed him back onto the couch. It was as though all of your senses were awakened and your body was telling you that you shouldn’t be doing all this. “N-No, I... I’m not ready.” 
You didn’t mean to always chicken out when you two were almost about to do it. You just didn’t feel confident enough to give yourself yet and even if you badly wanted to, you just couldn’t make yourself do it.
You could see the hint of disappointment on his face and he was trying to hide it. 
“Right,” he exhaled deeply with his head thrown back on the headrest. “It’s alright. Maybe next time,” he convinced himself. 
“I’m sorry,” you softly mumbled, hand gripping on his shirt. 
He gave you a quick peck on the lips before pulling you out of his lap and getting up from the couch. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” 
You stayed seated as you watched him walk away. “Where are you going?” 
“I have to finish this off on my own,” he answered without looking back. You realized he was referring to the act of touching himself because you just couldn’t do the job for him. It was obvious how frustrated he was and for goodness sake, you did feel guilty, but then again, he didn’t act like this before. When you told him you didn’t want to do it further, he would simply laugh it off and say he would wait for you. 
This wasn’t the same Sukuna that said that. 
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You became a little paranoid. 
Considering that girls would still pay your boyfriend a visit at the tattoo parlor, you always ended up overthinking about what he was doing while you were supposed to be busy at the floral shop. In the middle of arranging a bouquet of beautiful peonies, your mind was on haywire. You just didn’t feel at ease. You felt like anyone could easily snatch him away from you because you weren’t particularly a striking girl to begin with. You were leaning on the simple, conservative side rather than the rebellious, liberated women that swarmed his shop in hopes of sleeping with him. 
Because your thoughts were eating you alive, you decided to head to his tattoo parlor after closing the shop to make sure that he wasn’t doing any funny business. 
And you were somehow right. 
About three girls were in there this time, two of which you had already seen a couple of days ago, and they were already leaving the parlor just as you arrived. 
“You’re really amazing, Sukuna,” one of the girls told him in gratitude, “I might get another one soon.” 
You watched them walk past you with a smug expression on their faces as they left the shop. Sukuna had then seen you standing by the door with your arms crossed. 
“Really?” you questioned, walking inside with a frown. “They’re here again?” 
He sighed and walked back to his station while cleaning the mess from the tattoo session. He wasn’t even trying to win you over anymore. “I can’t just ask them not to come anymore. They’re still clients.”
“Let me guess,” you continued, “Did one of them get naked in front of you again? Did you let them put their hands all over you again? Did you perhaps forget that you had a girlfriend again?” 
His brows, now furrowed in annoyance and his mouth, thinning in displeasure. “No. We talked about this.” 
You held your breath, raising a brow in return. “I’m starting to think you’re doing more for them than just giving them tattoos.” 
“Like, what? Sell my body?” His question was clearly a taunt. A spasm of irritation crossed his face, but he still managed to display a mocking smile. “Is that what you’re suggesting, angel?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Then, what?” 
“You know what I mean,” you replied, trying to get your point across while keeping your composure. “You’re an attractive man and they’re the type of women you would willingly sleep with.” 
“Jesus. You’re so insecure, it’s crazy,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at you. 
Insecure? You couldn’t believe, just couldn’t believe he called you insecure. The air crackled with tension as your jaw tightened, muscles twitching with every suppressed urge to lash out.
“I wonder why!” Your voice rose hysterically. “If you weren’t busy flirting with those girls, maybe I won’t be so insecure.” 
“I said I’m not flirting with them!” he argued, slamming his gloves on the floor. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he looked at you with frustration that you had never seen before. It hurt. It certainly hurt. He had been acting distant since the night you didn’t give in to him and you knew that his exasperation towards you was rooting from that. 
Your breathing became unsteady. “But you know you’d sleep with them if given the chance. Since I couldn’t do it with you.” 
“Then, just fucking do it with me instead of bitching about it every day!” he snapped, voice thick with insinuation. “I don’t wanna be stuck acting like I give two shits about your interest in flowers and whatever nonsense you like to talk about. I wanna be with someone I can have sex with, not sit on the couch all day with a boring person like you!” 
His hurtful words left you frozen like a statue, unable to move while being dominated by the shooting pain inside your chest. 
You knew this day would come—that he would eventually get tired of waiting around for something that he could easily get from others. However, what hurt you most was the fact you believed he wasn’t that type of guy. That he wasn’t with you solely for what you could give, but rather, for what you just had. You thought he sincerely understood your boundaries and respected your choices the very same way you respected his, but it seemed that he had another thought in his head all along. 
After seeing the look on your face, Sukuna had softened his gaze and walked closer to you in reproach to his words and actions, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean that.” 
A tear fell from your eye as you looked at him with both anger and pain building inside of you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You wanna have sex? Is that what you want?” Your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence. “You wanna do it so bad, let’s fucking do it, then!” 
Your fingers forced their way to spitefully unbutton your blouse despite his desperate efforts to stop you. You must be going crazy. But also, he drove you to this point. 
“Baby, no,” he said in remorse, grabbing your wrists tightly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m content with you. I really am, I’m sorry. Please.” 
Your chest heaved as you cried, unable to stop your emotions from exposing all of your vulnerabilities. “It’s obviously not enough for you.” Your voice quivered, each word a fragile whisper trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness as you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “You knew what kinda girl I am when you dated me.”
He pulled you for a hug and kissed your temple way too many times that you lost count. He felt absolutely sorry for ever hurting you with his words, but they just hit you so painfully to the point that your gaze grew distant and your face was clouded with resignation. 
“I know what kinda girl you are and I’m in love with you for it,” he reaffirmed, as if trying to get it through your head but his words were beginning to feel empty. “Please, believe me. I really didn’t mean what I said. You’re enough for me, baby. You’re all I want.” 
You didn’t feel comfort from his words, but you still returned his embrace because you loved him. Because you knew, even if he said more hurtful words, that you would still love him. Sure, you would be angry, but your love for him ruled higher than your pride. 
You were just scared of losing him over something like this. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear before placing a soft, apologetic kiss on your lips. 
When he pulled away, your heart still felt heavy, but you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. 
“I love you, too.” 
He ran his thumb across your cheek and held your waist on his other hand. You just couldn’t get his words out of your head even after he apologized, because you never knew he was seeing your relationship that way all along. 
The girls were right. He was a man after all and he had needs. 
The fact that he was staying with you despite not fulfilling his needs must be a work of charity for him, and eventually, he would get sick of waiting around. He would desire you less and less the more the days passed by and it wasn’t absolutely crazy to think that he could potentially meet another girl he liked that was willing to give it all. 
The mere thought of it scared you. 
“I’ll do it with you tonight,” you offered, your voice breaking, hoping that you could finally break the barrier and be enough for him. 
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5K notes · View notes
mindpose · 1 year
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Life becomes difficult : Being ignored and ignoring.
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.
In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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1-800-kami · 5 months
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4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo
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content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic
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gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.
in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.
despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.
“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.
it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”
gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.
“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”
“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.
“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”
“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.
you’re home.
“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.
you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”
you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”
“horsey!”
“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.
“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”
“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.
“what did you do this time, satoru?”
“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”
“...”
satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”
“satoru-”
“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”
“toru-”
“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”
“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.
“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”
now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”
“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”
“yeah, sure you did.”
being a father is so difficult.
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aroaceacacia · 2 years
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minecraft is the perfect video game, actually
when I say that I don't mean it doesnt have its flaws, because it does - but it feels to me like the platonic ideal of a video game.
there are monsters to fight, but they're completely optional. the game is fully customizable. theres a suggested path, but nothing forces you to do it. it's just you and an empty world and absolutely anything you could want to do; it's the truest form of sandbox. even the world itself could be anything you want it to be
its kid friendly but not for kids only; it includes challenges that young players can overcome without getting too horribly frustrated and it encourages creativity (which means it will get support from children's guardians because it mostly keeps away from violence). but importantly, it's not sanitized - the nether is a hell dimension, one wrong move in the end could cost you everything, the terrifying warden - this fulfills children's desires to be scared in a safe environment! its exciting!
while this can sometimes bite mojang in the ass, I love that they try and include the community in the creative process, showing progress and ideas and asking for feedback and help with finding bugs. when minecraft is finally considered "complete", if that ever happens, it will feel like such a time capsule of the hard work of the devs and the desires of the player base, the special little thing that we made together
speaking of kids, I love that during Mojang's live events, it feels like they treat all players equally: adults and their questions & ideas feel just as included as kids and their questions & ideas. they speak to everyone at once, in ways that are easy for kids to listen to and be engaged with (shoutout to lydia) but that dont feel alienating to adults like myself. that's a pretty hard line to walk and I feel like they do it really well!
minecraft encourages players to be kind, to be constructive, to look at the world around them and think "what can this become?" minecraft wants players to make art, to become artists; it's a tool, it's an engine, it's a platform, it's a canvas. it's cozy. it's frighteningly lonely. it's a world that evolves seemingly on its own. it's something really beautiful
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applestruda · 1 year
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Ok so i've gotten a couple of people asking me how i color,, so i thought i might like, drop a mini tutorial for how i draw in general. I will explain to the best of my ability, but im not super good at this kind of thing (also this is gonna be a long post)
I will say that usually I go into a drawing with a general idea of what I want to draw, the vibe I want to give, and the colors I want to work with. Of course these can change throughout the process though.
(and side tip is to flip the canvas often, that way it's easy to catch mistakes and tweak them)
So I always start with a sketch, it's not clean or pretty, just meant to give me a good base. And from there I color in the flats
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Next I take some darker colors and just throw it on top of the flats, erasing where I want there to be highlights
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I then specifically take the brush called stickman (on procreate), and do a wash over the art. I find that it creates a variety of interesting colors and adds some texture.
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From there, I take my usual brush (chalk) and I grab the colors created by the previous step, rendering out the form with them
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Next is just the highlights, where i pretty much make a good base to start adding details and messing with layer types.
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Details! I use a variety of brushes, layer types, and colors, just messing around and seeing what I like. I often stumble across something I like through this method, completely unplanned.
(also to create the wispy effect like what's around the stars, I just grab a color, use whatever layer type I think looks cool, and then go in with my eraser to add more shape to it)
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The final couple of steps is still me just messing around with layer types and colors, but usual to the whole drawing instead of specific spots, possibly unifying colors and or trying to push contrasts a little further (it depends on what I'm going for). And then i finish it off with another stickman layer to add more texture back!
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And erm,, Yeah! That's kinda it.. In total this took 1 h 11 min.. and honestly most of it is just me messing with things until I like it..
Hope this helps,
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madebyrolo · 1 month
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Beach date
Rafe Cameron x Reader
She/her
one shot / fluff
summary: “VICTOR, YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS!?” Type fic.
Obx masterlist
┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛
I was sitting on my bed scrolling through TikTok when Rafe texted me.
“Be ready I’m picking you up at 6.”
“And for what can I ask?” I responded
“It’s a surprise peach”
Rafe came up with that nickname when I was over one day and I accidentally drank the rest of his peach juice.
“Okay okay see you then :)”
With the time being 5:38, I get up and put on denim skirt and white halter top with little blue flowers on it. I grab my Uggs cause they’re cute and comfy and I put my vanilla perfume. I get my purse and make sure my lip gloss is in it and soon I get the text that my bae has arrived. I love calling Rafe bae cause he hates it.
“Mom I’ll be back, I’m going out with rafe!” I call out from the stairs.
“Okay honey, be home before 10 please!” She calls out from her office.
She absolutely loves Rafe and luckily she trust me and him enough to let me out without asking anything. And with her having my location on 24/7
I shut the door behind me and I walk to the black truck in my driveway. I see Rafe standing right by the passenger door with his dopey smile plastered across his face.
“Hey dream boat” I say walking up to him placing a small kiss on his lips.
“Hey hey? That wasn’t a kiss come one give daddy a real one.” Rafe said earning a laugh from me before pulling me in by the waist completely smashing his lips on mine.
“That was sweet but you’re eating me Rafe.” I joke with him.
“Oh so with that hurtful joke, I don’t think you deserve these.” He said grabbing a bouquet from inside the car.
“Rafe, you didn’t oh my god they’re beautiful!” I saw grabbing them from him and smelling them.
It was a mix of blue hydrangeas with lilies and mums with the perfect amount of greenery . They smelt amazing, like peace which I loved about flowers.
“Blue like my eyes so you think about me every time you look at them.” He somewhat joked.
“I always do Rafe.” I say before planting a small cute long kiss on him.
“Now come on, I’m dying to know what you’ve planned.” I say adjusting the collar of his white dress shirt.
“Okay peach get in.” he said opening the door and letting me in.
After a 15 minutes drive with a quick pit stop for a pizza at dominos, we finally made it. We stopped by the beach putting the car in park and once again opening the door for me.
“What are we doing at the beach? I didn’t bring a suit.” I say while he grabs my hand leading up to the sand.
“We’re not gonna for a swim.” he said.
“You should’ve mentioned the beach, I wouldn’t have picked these Uggs Rafe.” I tell him.
“You know Uggs were actually meant for the beach? They were for surfers” he explains.
“Do I look like a surfer?” I complain.
“Hey I got you to stand in the board once!” He nudged me
After a short walk we are greeted with a blanket that had a basket with lemonade and other goodies. There was 2 easels and some paint supplies along with more flowers.
“Happy date night!” Rafe said as let put down the pizza.
“Rafe this is so cute!” I say as I sit down in the blanket and look at everything he got.
“I did this all myself, thought we deserved a nice cute date to end off the summer.” Rafe said sitting next to me.
“Rafe this is perfect. Thank you.” I said hugging him.
“I got us some paints so we can do a little couples art maybe and some extra canvas for fun but mainly cause I know I’ll mess up.” He joked bringing out all the colors.
“You’re actually the best boyfriend ever Rafe.”
“I know I know. You can pay he back later.” he said with a wink as you nudge him.
“Okay give me a plate I want pizza.”
After your small dinner and some laughs shared with Rafe you finally get to the painting.
“Okay so we can do thumb prints, handprints, kisses, little things that represent us,” Rafe listed ideas as he scroll through Pinterest.
“Let’s do a handprints, something easy and then maybe we can cover it in sand to reminds of us this little beach date.” You offered
“Yeah I like that” he kissed your nose.
“Alright so many kisses today I think you just did this to get some.”
“No no I actually did this for us, but that’s just a perk” Rafe gave another kiss but on your neck and started going down.
“Okay okay! Let’s get to painting!” You giggled due to the friction of his warm lips on your skin.
As you guys finally decided on a paint color which took absolutely forever because Rafe wanted to do blue to match his eyes (once again) but you wanted a sage green because it was nice and calming which was a perfect way to describe this date. Certainly not this relationship yk how Rafe is.
“Okay your hand first cause it’s giant” you as you painted his hand a dark green.
“Hey you love these hands, especially these finger-”
“OKAY. So place it straight don’t make it crooked.” You guide his onto the canvas
“I can do it myself I’m a big boy okay y/n” he said placing his own hand down.
“Okay leave it there for a couple of seconds to get a good print.” You order.
You grab a lighter green to match his and paint your hand. The ticklish feelings and smell remind you of elementary, and the one time Jayj ate paint (not as a dare.)
“Oh that’s a cute color” Rafe said as you put the paint back.
“Okay you can take your hand off now. Longer you keep it, it’s probably gonna dry on there.” You joked.
“Don’t make it crooked.” He said as he grabbed your hand placing it down on the canvas on top if his.
After a couple of seconds you take it off and see the perfect imprints of you and Rafe.
“Aww it’s so cute!” You commented
“Oh now we have to make another, I’m gonna want one too.” He said admiring your art work.
“Here you go.” he said handing you a cup of sand
You sprinkle the sand ontop of the paint making sure to put enough then shaking the rest off.
“Okay now while this drys I wanna paint another.” you say grabbing another canvas.
You decide to paint a turtle on the beach. Turtles are your second animal cause they’re just so darn cute. As you paint, Rafe also decides to paint whatever he is. He has an assortment of colors and he’s just in his own world. As you watch him you can’t help but notice how his tounge pokes the inside of this cheek as he concentrates.
After 20 minutes, you finally have finished yours projects.
“Okay on, one…two…three!” You count down and flip your canvas.
“Oh thanks cute!” Rafe says and you stare as his… maybe pizza?
“Nice…I don’t even know. Rafe what is that?” You say confused.
“It’s a boat!” He says excited.
“Look it’s me and you!” He points to small blobs
“Oh I thought those were olives…”
“Y/n…” he says with a pout.
“Oh come on it’s cute!!!” You say trying to make him feel better.
“Maybe you should just keep to gallery walks instead of making the art…” you pat his shoulder as you both stare as his “boat”
“Your turtles are so good but look at my boat.”
“Rafe calm down it’s fine beside you can always buy classes.”
“But you’re a natural! It’s unfair.”
“Rafe quit it, besides you’re better at other things than me!” You try to cheer him up.
“Like what?”
“Golf”
“Wow lousy golf. Topper is the king let’s face it.”
“Whatever who cares he got cheated on.” You managed to crack a smile from him.
“Beside, you’re an absolutely an amazing boyfriend. My boyfriend.” He turns to look at you.
“Look at this amazing date you planed. And set up all by yourself too. Gotta give yourself props.” You give him a hug.
“Yeah I’m a pretty good man..” he said playfully rolling his eyes.
“My man.”
You guys share another slow and passionate kiss.
“Come on let’s clean this up. You can spend the night at mine.” You offer as you began to throw things into the basket.
“Okay good, I already told my dad I was.” He said as he grabbed the trash and threw it in a bag.
As you guys drive home you play your oldies playlists. You singing along while Rafe learns new songs.
Soon you guys make it to your house. Rafe parks the car and you guys make your way to the front door with him holding the insane amount of followers.
“Wait we never made my painting” Rafe stopped in his tracks.
“Here you can have the hands, I’ll take your pizza boat.” You say handing him his.
“Guess we have to have another date night to make another !! Ugh!” You said sarcastically.
“What a bore.” Rafe plays along.
You guys reach upstairs. Taking a joint shower because Rafe kept insisting on taking one first but you were too tired to wait. You both got the amazing date night, and hot and steamy sex.
┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛
Came out of hibernation and finally wrote 😩
Sorry for any typos I got too lazy.
Love me some soft Rafe 💁🏽‍♀️
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taegularities · 2 years
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colour me in | jjk (m) | masterlist
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Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut
➳ contents & warnings: artist/fuckboy!JK, annoying parents, endearing friends, lots of smut and fluff, misunderstandings; and more chapter specific warnings! | 18+
➳ current word count: 339.8k
➳ status: ongoing
➳ cmi’s mood: still with you and my you by Jungkook | collaborative playlist 🎶
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⁂ CHAPTERS
✩ indicates parts relevant to the story | ❀ indicates fillers/drabbles (can be read as stand alones)
PART I: THE SEEDS
⤞ colour me in (9.8k) ✩ | lowkey by niki
"I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.” “Your what now?”
⤞ cmi: outlines (10.6k) ✩ | slow down by chase atlantic
“If I’m somewhat okay to you, angel... may I kiss you then?”
⤞ cmi: layers (18.4k) ✩ | stay (acoustic) by zedd & alessia cara
“I just want you to know that if I ever put you on a pedestal, it wouldn’t be because of any amount of money you own.”
⤞ cmi: too much (7.2k) ❀ | heavenly by cigarettes after sex
“I think if you wanted to… or tried hard enough, you could break my heart.” “...How?” “I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna find out.”
⤞ cmi: lights (25.2k) ✩ | ruin my life by zara larsson
“You just called me to tell me about the burn?” “Yeah. But I think... also to tell you that I miss you.”
⤞ cmi: the canvas (22.8k) ✩ | with love by christina grimmie
“You’re coloured in now for real, aren’t you?” “Feels more like you’re colouring me in.”
⤞ cmi: not enough (4k) ❀ | this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler
“Those New Year’s Eve parties bore me more than you’d know.” “Why did you come then?” “'Cause... I guess I knew you’d be here.”
PART II: THE GROWING
⤞ cmi: silhouettes (23.7k) ✩ | rumors by sabrina claudio & zayn / kiss me by ed sheeran 
“We've played our parts in this fake thing. But I’m still here, with you. Why?”
⤞ cmi: undying roses (3.3k) ❀ | i can’t fall in love without you by zara larsson
“...You remembered?” “How could I not?”
⤞ cmi: monochrome (21.6k) ✩ | reflections by the neighbourhood
“You didn’t look at me even once, I–” “Because if I do… I’ll break.”
⤞ cmi: letters from the heart (17k) ✩ | jk pov | angels like you by miley cyrus
“And even with Nara, you didn’t behave like this.” “Like what?” “Like… Like you want to go back to how it was.”
⤞ cmi: unhindered (12.2k) ❀ | love on the brain by rihanna
“You came because you want me, and that’s driving you crazy.”
⤞ cmi: blurred (31.7k) ✩ | the only exception by paramore
“I hate that I’ve grown to crave you.”
⤞ cmi: blue (30.4k) ✩ | only love (acoustic) by pvris
“It’s easy to lose someone when you open up. It fucking scares me — and it’s never scared me as much as with you.”
⤞ cmi: seven (25k) ❀ | seven by jungkook
“I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”
⤞ cmi: redraft (25.3k) ✩ | i need u by yaeow
“You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore. And I admire you in every way.”
PART III: THE BLOSSOMING
⤞ cmi: translucent (35.8) ✩ | say you won’t let go by james arthur
“I’m not good with words, baby. And I don’t know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.”
⤞ cmi: blooming (15.6k) ✩ | daylight by taylor swift
“You excite me all the time.”
⤞ cmi: palette (??) ✩ | ?? | next!
??
. . .
and more!
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⁂ BONUS
⤞ ask my character; colour me in edition ⤞ cmi theories 💭 | cmi drabble ideas 🖌 | cmi memes 😁  ⤞ character sheet 🧑🏻 ⤞ cmi timeline (spoilers ahead!!) 🕰  ⤞ cmi couple’s dream apartment, art by yaila 🤍  ⤞ cmi moodboard, made by ivi 🤍  ⤞ cmi audio commentary | commentary post 🎙 
⤞ requested drabbles:
frat party; nara & jungkook jealousy; jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) day out; jungkook x reader jealousy #2 (read cmi5/the canvas first!); jungkook x reader perilla leaf/jealousy #3; jungkook x reader
⤞ FAQ:
When do you update? Randomly! Usually on Fridays around 8PM EST, but I don’t have a schedule for CMI. Whenever a part is done!
How many chapters will CMI have? I haven’t planned out every part yet, so I can’t say for sure. Definitely more than 10, though.
What inspired you to write CMI? Menacing pictures and my lovesick brain 🥲.
What role does Nara play? Jungkook talks about her in the fourth chapter, Lights. More to come later!
What do ‘part I’, ‘part II’ etc. in the masterpost mean? I explained (or tried to explain :D) it here, but the tl;dr version is that the story is divided into 3 arcs. One arc focuses on one main aspect of their relationship (e.g. arc 1 is the beginning; them getting closer).
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✒︎ join the taglist! ♡
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© 2022–24 taegularities. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story properly.
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rendy-a · 3 months
Note
Could I request a self aware twst au with like the first years :D?
I want to thank all the people who interacted with that post earlier today. It gave me enough motivation to go out and finish this piece.
While trying to think up concepts for this work, it occured to me that all the first years (except Ortho) were in sports clubs. That means there is one event perfect for you to bond with your first year friends.
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Ace kicks a pile of canvas laying in a heap at his feet, “This is ridiculous!  What if something happens while we’re gone!”  His mouth twists into an unpleasant grimace.  He looks to his basketball club members for backup, but no one will meet his eye.  So, he turns to where he knows he’ll find support.  “Oi, Sebek!”  The green haired fae is distractedly pounding away at a tent stake nearby but it is easy to see from his expression that his heart isn’t in it.  “What happens if someone tries to kidnap the Player when we aren’t there to protect them?  You know how famous they are!”  Sebek stops hammering and slowly looks up, tears forming in his eyes. 
“SILVER! SILVER!” he shouts to his clubmate, “What if I’m not there to protect the Player!  Forget this event, we must return to the school with ALL HASTE!”  He looks to his fellows for support but again, none of the senior students stop what they are doing.  Ace, however, is fast to abandon his own camping site and join Sebek.  “Right, right?” he eagerly urges Sebek on, “What does this even matter if our Player isn’t here to see it?” 
“Stop it,” the sturdy voice of Jack growls, “It doesn’t pay to get worked up over it.  This is in the story, so we have to do it.  That’s just how it is.”  Sebek stares at the wolf beastman silently, tears falling from his eyes.  “Maybe we can tell them about it later!” Deuce tries to cheer his fellow freshman up, “I’m sure they’d like to hear about it.  They always listened to my card stories before…well before it happened.  I think they’d like to hear about this too!”  At that Sebek seemed mightily cheered and returned to setting up his tent with gusto, muttering about what he’d tell the Player about later.  Ace scoffs, sensing his defeat and returns bitterly to his own site. 
Epel wanders over and observes Ace silently.  “You finished?” Ace asks in surprise.  “Yeah, Leona is a great leader and took charge of getting us set up right away!” Epel informs him, “I had time to put up my tent and help Ruggie set up one for Leona too!”  Then he looks down and kicks Ace’s sad abandoned tent as well, “I just wish the Player was here to see it.  I bet they’d have been really impressed with how fast I finished.”  Ace frowns and complains, “But they aren’t here.  They are back at school with the Arts Clubs.”  This causes Epel to scowl deeply, “Dagnabit!  I didn’t need a reminder of that!  I can just picture those frou-frou artsy types trying to suck up to the Player.  Trying to get them to talk different, eat different, just…” He doesn’t finish the thought but the way he grinds his teeth shows how he feels about the idea.
The sound of pounding tent stakes and shifting canvas is diminished when the booming voice of Coach Vargas booms out, “Listen up, young campers!  Now, I know you don’t need any additional motivation to showcase your strength and fortitude here after I’ve done an AMAZING job setting up this EXCITING AND ENTERTAINING EVENT!”  Here he pauses and casts a quick look over his shoulder before straightening up again.  “But if you do!”  Then he smiles a beaming smile and sets his hands on his hips.  That’s when you pop out from behind him, “Hey guys!  Guess who’s here to do their memory keeper duties!” 
Ace jumps over his canvas pile in a rush to get to your side and stumbles over it.  “Woah, calm down,” you admonish him cheerily, “I’ll be here all weekend.”  Epel asks in an innocent sounding voice, “You will?  You really will?”  You pat the two boys on the shoulder and search out your other first year friends in the crowd.  Sebek is sobbing quietly in front of his tent and Deuce is waving excitedly from the distant track club area.  Jack gives you a small nod before turning back to his area as though he is unaffected by your appearance, but the cloud of dust kicked up by his wagging tail says otherwise. 
You turn toward Vargas and look expectantly.  He looks blankly back at you until you awkwardly say, “Go on.”  He looks at you a moment before clearing his throat, “Ah yes, yes.  Harumph!  Anyway, tents are up!  Get over here and listen up for your next task!”  Then he looks at you as though seeking your approval to hand out the task.  You shrug and then nod as though to say, ‘Sure, go for it.’  Vargas gives you a toothy smile and then proceeds to hand out a familiar sounding explanation about the tasks to be assigned to the clubs.  You wave lightly before heading back to the cabin to get your own things sorted out.  The eagerness of the students fades as fast as your departure.
“So…,” Deuce begins carefully, “We are going to try now?  Right?”  He looks at Ace for confirmation.  Jack snorts behind him, “I was always going to try.”  Then he makes a fist and puts on an eager smile, “I’m going to knock this challenge out so fast that the Player can’t help but notice me!”  Deuce turns away from Ace to join Jack instead.  The two Track Club members fire each other up over their plans to dominate the camp tasks and stand out to the Player.  Deuce quickly becomes so distracted by this that he forgets Ace entirely.  This is just the chance Ace has been waiting for to quietly slip away.
“So, Prefect,” Ace begins as he appears at your side.  You yelp and drop your backpack, catching it before it hits the ground and damages your precious ghost camera.  “Ace!” you shout, “What are you doing here?  This isn’t in the event!”  He looks at you quietly and you quickly backtrack, “I…I mean, shouldn’t you be with the Basketball Club doing…something?”  Ace smiles, happy to have avoided an awkward situation.  “Nah, I’m not going to mess around in the woods.  It’s a team effort, so as long as those other guys do the grunt work, I’ll be fine.”  You roll your eyes at his attitude.  “Plus, why would I want to be anywhere but with my best buddy, eh Prefect?” 
You consider this carefully before slyly narrowing your eyes and gesturing to your unbuilt tent.  “Sure, thing, Pal.  Why don’t you hang out and help me build my tent.”  Ace grimaces, not wanting to do the work but mostly afraid you’ll pick up on his lack of tent-building expertise.  The odd standoff is concluded when you hear Coach Vargus bellow, “Nonsense!  That won’t do for either of you!  I can hardly deprive the Prefect of the chance to enjoy this stimulating muscle-building activity and as for you Ace, well, you are just slacking off.”  Ace starts to stammer as you just stand there cringing.  Coach Vargus calmly approaches Ace and lifts him up by his collar.  It reminds you of how you lift a misbehaving Grim by the scruff of his neck.  You wave awkwardly at the departing Ace as he looks imploringly at you from the Coach’s grasp.  ‘Oh well, you reap what you sow,’ you think.
A tiring amount of time later, you brush your hands off on your thighs and declare, “There, done!”  Then you slowly head over to grab your pack holding the Ghost Camera, among other supplies.  The sun is barely at its peak, but you are already sweating with exertion from putting up the tent.  You wonder how your more athletic friends among the first-year students are handling it.  You know they are more used to the effort, but you hope they are taking necessary precautions.  Perhaps you’d just remind them and see if they need to borrow some sunscreen.
You know realize that sunscreen was the least of your safety concerns.  You watch in disbelief as Sebek continues to scale a sheer cliff in search of a lantern blossom flower.  The reaction of the nearby students was mixed.  Silver seemed remarkably unconcerned as he spoke to Riddle nearby.  Meanwhile, you and several NPC characters were more nervous.  “He is going to fall, isn’t he?” you ask the nearby Scarabia A.  He looks at you for a long moment and then shrugs his shoulders.  You are not reassured at all. 
You turn instead to Ignihyde C and gesture, “This game doesn’t have a mature rating, so he can’t die.  Right? Right?”  The surprised student looks at you with his mouth falling open before he stammers, “R.right.”  Then he looks up at the precarious position of the green haired fae and mumbles, “But maybe you should cheer him on anyway.”  You look more intently at the NPC and demand, “Do you think that would help?”  He answers you in a fluster, “W..well, if my oshi…I mean friend…if my friend cheered me on, I think it would really help me do my best!” 
Right.  That is just the sort of thing friends do.  “HEY SEBEK!” you shout.  The fae somehow hears you shout and looks arrogantly over his shoulder at the spectators but when his eye catches your form, he shakes, and you fear he will tumble from the cliff.  “HOLD ON SEBEK, YOU CAN DO IT!  I BELIEVE IN YOU!”  From even the great distance between you, the image of determination that crosses his expression can be seen.  He sets off with a renewed vigor, making daring transitions and finding ways to make speedy progress.  With several movements that make you gasp and hold your breath; he reaches the lantern blossom and plucks it from the ground. 
Much faster than the ascent, Sebek’s return to the ground was accomplished quite shortly.  He was still a considerable distance up when he leaps from the cliff edge to race to your side and show off his prize.  He eagerly holds out the glowing lantern blossom for you to view.  “Its so pretty,” you comment politely, “I wish I had one.”  He gasps and grabs hold of your hand, forcing the poor battered flower into it.  “THEN YOU MUST HAVE THIS ONE!”  You give him a shocked look, “No really, that is unnecessary.  I’ll get one some other day.”  He smiles at you smugly, “No need Prefect.  Any time you need a lantern blossom, I will fetch one for you.”  You guiltily hold out the flower to one student after another, but no member of the Horseback Riding Club will take it from you.  “Prefect,” Riddle finally says in a commanding voice, “Its rude to return a gift.  We are more than capable of retrieving another lantern blossom.”  Sebek and Silver nod in agreement, backing up the Dorm Leader.  You think it’s time to go before you cause this club any more trouble.  You make your excuses and dash off to the lake.
As you part a pair of branches and emerge from the forest at the lake’s edge, you catch sight of some members of the Spelldrive Club nearby.  Ruggie seems to be fishing up a storm while your first-year friend Epel watches from nearby with his own pole.  “See,” Ruggie tells his underclassman, “That’s how its done.  Now in return for that free lesson, how about you show me what you learned by catching enough fish for the rest of the club! Shishishi!”  You roll your eyes at the obvious attempt to foist the work off onto Epel but are surprised with your friend shouts “YES SIR!” with enthusiasm.  You catch Ruggie’s eye and give him a quiet tsk tsk which only earns you a mischievous wink before the hyena beastman set’s off toward camp.
You slowly saunter over to Epel, who is fully engaged in his fishing.  “So, got a plan?” you asked over his shoulder.  “Eh!?” he gasps and drops his pole, “Player!  I..I mean Prefect!  It’s you! Ya’ had me surprised outta my skin there!”  You give him an apologetic smile.  Epel stoops down to retrieve his pole and shyly replies, “My plan is just to catch the fish.  I’m not going to give up until I’ve caught at least a dozen!”  Then he holds up his arm and bends it at the elbow, giving you a little flex to show off his determination.  You hold in a laugh, “Well, if you are that fired up, why stop at only one dozen?” 
Epel’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he gets a maniacal grin.  “Yeah! You’re right!  I’m going to catch you at least two dozen fish!  Or maybe three or four!”  You know Epel is not the type to break his word, so you quickly interrupt to calm down his ambitions, “One dozen is enough!  I was just joking.”  You wave your hands toward the ground as though to say, let’s lower our expectations.  Epel frowns and mutters under his breath, “That isn’t going to impress anyone.” Then he looks at you determined, “Just wait and see!  I’ll catch plenty of fish so don’t go eat’n with any other club!  When tha fish are in tha bag, I’ll make ya Gram’s special fish stew!” 
As Epel gets to work, casting his line and reeling in the lure, you sit beside him on a rock.  When the time seems right, you snap a picture of him eagerly lifting a small fish from the lake on his line.  “There you go!  One down!” you say as you transfer the ghost camera to your elbow and give him a small clap of encouragement.  He preens a short second before frowning down at the small fish.  “Tha’ next ‘un will be twice as big!” he shouts in determination before casting his line again. 
True to his prediction, soon Epel gets a tremendous tug on his pole.  You both shout and leap to your feet at the strength of the fish that appears to be on the line.  “WOAH!” Epel shouts.  You lean over the edge of the lake, trying to see the monster fish Epel has snagged.  Epel too seems interested in his opponent and plans one foot firmly while leaning forward to stare intently where his line entered the lake.  With a sudden flash, a scaled hand emerges from the lake to grab the tip of Epel’s rod and tugs Epel, pole and all, into the lake.  You quickly slide back as far more of Floyd emerges from the lake.  He gives you a toothy smile before his trademark laugh emerges and he returns to the lake.  Epel does not immediately surface, and you are concerned for a moment before you spot him further down the shore.  Though he has concealed himself behind a log, you can tell his ears are flushed with embarrassment.  You kindly decide to give him his space.
Halfway to camp, your stomach begins to growl.  You thought sadly about Gran’s special fish stew, now beyond your reach.  You hoped that you’d manage to sweet talk some fish off someone.  They were your friends, so someone is bound to share, right? 
The size of Deuce’s eyes when you asked him sweetly if he’d share his food with you rivaled that of the empty plate you held out to him.  “Please?” you finish your plea for lunch.  Deuce flushes and quickly removes his pack from his shoulder, pulling out a fairly large fish.  “No problem, Prefect, I’ve got enough for two here!”  You make a little gesture to celebrate your victory and compliment him, “Yeah!  Great job catching such a big fish.  It looks so huge, I bet its even enough for three people!”  Immediately Deuce denies this, “NO!  NO, IT’S NOT!”  When you pull back in surprise, Deuce continues in a softer voice, “I…I mean this one is just perfect for two.  It…its just meant for us.  To share.  Together.” 
You hold up your hands and agree, “Sure, sure.  Just you and me.  I get you.”  Deuce seems so very pleased by your response that you decide to just let his strange response slide.  Plus, you need him to cook that fish.  “So…what are you making?  You know, just for us to share?” you ask as you saddle up to his side?  Deuce looks back and forth between you and the fish, “I sure know how to cook this.  Yup, I really do.”  Your mouth falls into a little O and then you glare at him suspiciously, “Deuce, do you know how to cook fish?”  He doesn’t meet your eye but assures you that Trey taught him some recipes.  You still have your suspicious but figure if it was a Trey recipe, it would be alright.
“So, what do we do?” you ask Deuce.  He looks at you with a dreamy expression, “We?  You’re going to cook with me?”  You shrug your shoulders, “I mean yeah, that’s how Trey’s recipes are, right?”  Then you lean in close and whisper, “Like…Like in the game when we made that chestnut tart together.  Right?”  Deuce quickly agrees, “Right!  Together!  You and me!  Just…you and me… Ahem!”  He finishes with a cough and then, to your relief, sends you to the forest to collect some herbs. 
You had a handful of samples and a general area to search for more.  Apparently, Jack had scented some out while setting up camp and taken cuttings so his clubmates could retrieve more later.  You smiled at the foresight of the first-year student.  You weren’t sure exactly what Deuce needed, so you gathered a few handfuls of each type.  You walk back to the camp and set your bounty on the table next to the fish Deuce has prepared.  It looks like he’s used the time you were away to fillet the fish and make a simple dough.  Seeing the dough gives you confidence that this really is a Trey recipe. 
“So, what now?” you ask him.  “Chop up the herbs and mix them into a paste with water,” Deuce directs.  “Sure,” you say while gesturing to the pile, “but which ones?”  Deuce pauses and looks at the large pile of greens you have sitting there.  “Oh…um…All of them!”  Now your doubts are back.  “Are you sure about that?” you ask him carefully.  “Yeah!” Deuce replies confidently, “Just like Trey says, the more the merrier!”  You carefully take two sprigs of herbs and chop them up and then, while Deuce is preoccupied with the dough, give them a taste.  Honestly, the combination of the two isn’t bad.  ‘Well,’ you think, ‘what to I know about cooking in a magical world anyway?’  So, you chop the entire pile of greens and mix it all into a thick paste.  Deuce combines your herb paste with the fish and puts it into a small pie shell he has formed with the dough.  Then, you pack the ‘pie’ into the hot rocks of the fire to roast. 
While the pie bakes, you sit side by side on a log and chat about normal things.  Or maybe it was more like you chatted and Deuce listened.  You didn’t mind, he was good company even if he seemed preoccupied.  You were telling him about Grim’s latest antics when you felt something on your hand.  You give a small yelp and tug your hand into your lap.  “Ah!” you examine your hand as you brush it off, “Was that a bug?”  Deuce, who you suddenly realize had gotten far closer to you than you’d noticed, nervously remarked, “Oh yeah, that…was probably it.  Ha ha.”  Finally, you ask, “Are you cold?  I bet we could find you a seat closer to the fire if you are.  You can be as cozy as our pie.”  Deuce seems embarrassed for a moment before suddenly becoming alarmed, “THE PIE!”  He jumps up and fishes the pie from the fire. 
He brings it to you nervously, “I think it is fine…”  The pie has a small amount of char around the edge that was directly in the fire.  If it hadn’t been made by your good friend, you’d probably have refused it but, since it was made by Deuce, you don’t have the heart to refuse.  “Oh yeah, looks fine.  I guess…lets try it?” you say trying to convince both yourself and Deuce of the pie’s editability.  Deuce lets out a happy sigh and breaks the pie in half, handing you the slice with fewer burnt edges.  He makes no move to eat the pie himself but seems to hold his breath, waiting for you to try it.  “Well, here it goes?” you say in a worried tone.  You take a bite; it’s terrible.  You force your mouth into a wide smile, “mmm…” you mutter for him in pity.  You decide to use the same method for the pie as you used the last time you were forced to eat Lilia’s cooking.  You cram the pie down in three huge bites, trying to finish it off while tasting it as little as possible. 
For a moment, Deuce seems greatly pleased with the gusto in which you eat before the look of alarm sets on his face and he tilts his head to the side.  Or maybe he is tilting his whole body?  Oh, no.  It’s you that is falling.  Then the blackness takes you as Deuce’s frightened shouts fade out, “HELP, I think…I��ve poisoned…the player…”
You wake up groggy.  If that was all, you’d have considered yourself lucky, but it also appears you’ve been tied to a tree.  You are confused for a moment until you recall the storyline of the Camp Vargus event.  Right, Coach is probably out tormenting students right now while anyone captured is tied up.  Great, just great.  You look up when you hear a long howl echoing through the forest.  ‘Is that Jack?’ you think to yourself.  If Jack is already in his wolf form, then this camp is nearly over.  You sigh and lean back into the tree, waiting for someone to come along and release you.
It isn’t longer than an hour before a very tired but eager Jack arrives to untie you.  “Guess you are the hero of the day, huh?” you jibe at him.  He flushes as he rubs the back of his head, “Oh, you heard about that.”  He tries to pretend indifference but moments later he is asking for more details, “So what did you hear?”  Well, this is a challenge to answer since you hadn’t actually heard anything about it.  You just remembered it from when it was a game plot.  “Well…didn’t Floyd change into his mer form?  That was probably cool to see.” 
A look of incredulousness passes over his face, “Yeah well, other guys probably looked cool too.”  You nod knowingly, “Yeah, I heard you got to Sebek use his training to lure the monster into the bog.  Who knew there would be a chance for him to show off his skills out here.”  Jack huffs, “Yeah but he wasn’t the only one using his skills out there.”  Now you smile, feeling a bit mischievous yourself, “Oh, for sure.  I mean what would we have done without our MVP from Savanahclaw.”  Jack lets out a relieved sigh and smiles.  “Yes, Ruggie sure did pull though.  I don’t normally approve of his sneaky habits, but you have to admit he really came through today.” 
Jack’s eyes widen and he stands there in a silent shock.  “Well, let’s get going.  Are you hungry?  I could sure go for something right about now.”  Then you dust off your knees and start heading toward camp.  After a moment, you decide you’ve tortured him enough and pause, waiving your hand to signal him to join you.  When he reaches your side, you give his uniform sleeve a tug.  He bends down and you use this opportunity to give him a pat on the head and then rub his soft ears.  “You did good, Jack,” you praise him softly.  Then you thread your arm through his own and tug him along to camp.  “Now, let’s go get some grub.  Just don’t take anything Deuce gives you, ok?”  Jack smiles and follows you along, tail wagging all the way.
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velnna · 3 months
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i fucking LOVE your art so much. I've been trying to learn how to draw myself and it's been going... lets just say badly. do you perhaps have any tips for other artists, especially beginner ones?
Thank you! I've been drawing my whole life so it's hard for me to put myself in the shoes of a full beginner, BUT learning art never stops and I've got a long way to go myself so I'll just give some "tips" that have helped me evolve.
The "finished, not perfect" mantra is always a good one. I used to be a perfectionist and overthink art to the point that I was never satisfied with how it looked and sank a lot of time in. Moving past that mentality to a more "well at least it's done" one really helps, and as you add to your pile of "finished" things your confidence grows too.
Be your biggest fan is a good one, too. Draw what you like because you like it and want to consume it yourself, in a sense? I'm not saying it's not good to consider how others will perceive your work but I think (especially as a hobbyist) it's important to make sure YOU'RE the first one to look at it and go "hell yeah"
And generally speaking, from my experience: you can absolutely stay in your comfort zone for as long as you need, if that's what makes your brain click. Eventually circumstances or boredom might force you out • High resolutions are overrated - it's easy to get lost in details and miss the overall shape or composition of a drawing if your canvas is too big. I draw tiny as shit and it helps me a ton • Playing around with brushes makes a HUGE difference to me and is definitely worth the time to find one that suits your style. Using a brush that doesn't feel right kills my motivation easily, while using a brush that feels great has the opposite effect (in digital art at least) • working smarter not harder is always a good idea lol
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dazealigner · 4 months
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also being a julien girl and being pretty girly i loveeeeeeee the idea of julien w feminine artist!gf ☺️☺️ i think a hc would be super cute talking abt clothes/makeup/hair/body language/music and overall adoration julien and her girly!gf have for each other:)))
where’s my cig i need a gf badly 😔🚬
as a fellow julien and feminine artsy girl, i had waaay too much fun brainstorming for this idea. i will say though that i didn’t really touch on the body language/music part just cause i don’t think being more feminine or masculine can truly determine those things so i didn’t know what to write for those. but here’s some headcanons i stirred up (: RPF UNDER THE CUT
jb x feminine artist!gf hcs
okay so we know that one of the many forms of art artist!gf partakes in is makeup. and i said it when i was responding to an ask, but i’ll reiterate that artist!gf puts in just as much patience and effort into her makeup as she does when she picks up a literal painting canvas
and julien doesn’t really have a lot of experience in the visual arts other than drawing, which she does do sporadically. but she does lack experience in the cosmetic department, not that it interests her a lot.
but she absolutely loves how you take your time doing your makeup. especially when you two are going out because all she needs is ten minutes MAXIMUM to get ready and then she gets to sit down on the toilet seat in your shared bathroom where you’re doing your makeup and just watch you in admiration
but she does hate when you try and leave her by herself to start getting ready HOURS before you guys even have to leave
“where’re you goin’, baby?” she asks when you get up from your spot on the couch next to her
“i’ve gotta get ready.” you reply, giggling at julien because she uses a frown and her big brown (👶🐮) eyes as an offering in hopes that you’ll stay with her a little longer
“we got a couple hours,” and now she’s scooting on the couch to reach where you’re standing before she gently grabs your hand, rubbing and kissing your knuckles, “you can give me just a couple more minutes. .?”
she inevitably ends up winning you over, and when you do leave to get ready, she just follows you
and on the days where she’s tired and she feels like staying at home and having a lazy day but you two made plans with friends prior to that day and it’s too late to back out, she’s extra clingy. once she quickly finishes getting ready, she’s walking into your shared bathroom, lazily wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your back while you’re literally in the middle of doing your makeup. so now you’re incredibly stiff because you’re unable to lean forward to look into the mirror but you put up with it for her.
doing your hair is a whole other story. it can either take you thirty minutes or an hour depending on the day and what you decide to do with it (curl it, straighten it, etc)
but julien actually loves the anticipation of how you’ll wear your hair when you go out (bonus: especially if your hair’s naturally curly and you decided to wear it natural, she’s like ☹️☹️☹️, and if she’s seen baby photos of you with your natural hair, she probably just wants to tackle you lovingly and kiss all over your face)
but she just whole-heartedly loves your hair and it doesn’t matter what hair-type you have. like if your hair’s straight? she loves how it’s so soft and easy for her fingers to glide through. if your hair’s curly? she loves getting to play with the springy curls. and if it were anyone else, you’d scorn them for making your curls lose definition. but when it’s her? your perspective completely changes.
another thing is that she always has your banana clips and scrunchies in her car. so if you last minute decide that you wanna put your hair up, all you gotta do is open the glove compartment and there’s a variety for you to choose from
she’d also keep one of your scrunchies around her wrist when you guys go out in case you wore your hair down and changed your mind throughout the night. or maybe you didn’t wanna use it at that exact moment but you didn’t want the scrunchie on your wrist to ruin your outfit so she’ll wear it for you (lucy and phoebe always snap the scrunchie on her wrist to tease her)
speaking of outfits, you and julien’s fashion styles are completely different
julien’s day-to-day style consists of graphic-tees, plain colored t-shirts, skinny jeans or dickies, and a pair of converse or really any tennis shoes. your day-to-day style consists of babydoll crop tops/tees, washed low-rise jeans, and a pair of sambas.
but i think that occasionally you’d both incorporate the other’s style into your own. like when julien wore that sparkly mesh black crop top when she sung phoebe’s verse in silk chiffon, that was definitely yours. and there’ve been days where you spot a graphic tee in julien’s closet that you know you’re capable of styling in a way that’s suiting to you. and when julien sees you wearing her clothes, she 100% teases you about where you got them from knowing damn well she’s fuzzy on the inside just seeing you wear her things
random (but non-random) bonus: seeing as though she’s always with you when you’re getting ready, she’s picked up on a lot of makeup terminology and what most products do. so when you told her that setting spray makes your makeup last through EVERYTHING, she’ll leave it to herself to be the tester of that. cause is it really 100 wet kisses-proof?
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mustachrryluvr · 2 years
Text
Broccoli
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Jack Chambers one shot 
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: smut, spanking, slight degradation, roughness
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“Don’t worry, darling,” Jack responded while popping open the microwave and pulling out the package he had placed in it earlier to cook, “We still have broccoli.”
-
“Darling?” 
Jack’s voice ringed through their home as he entered through the front door, coming home from a long day at work. 
Jack had been working a lot lately. He had just been promoted at work and wanted to prove to his boss that he was worthy of the higher ranking, so he had been spending an ungodly amount of hours at the office. 
Y/N was currently in between jobs after coming to the realization that her job was ruining her. She was a shell of a person whenever she would come home from her receptionist job at a local law firm and Jack couldn’t stand to see her that way. So, with him getting promoted, they knew they would still be financially stable if Y/N took a step away from working for a bit to get her mental health under control. 
With having all this time on her hands now, Y/N had gotten back into some old hobbies to fill up her days. Drawing and painting had always been a love of Y/N’s. That was one of the things Jack had initially fell in love with, her passion for the things she loved. The day he came home from work to her in their spare room to find that she had filled it with brand new canvases and a multitude of paints, he knew that she was settling back into herself again. That evening, Jack ordered her a desk and easel to add to the room, and even spent the next day moving out the spare bed in the room so she could create an “art studio” for herself. 
Usually at this time of night, Jack would come home to find Y/N about done with dinner for the two of them. When she didn’t answer him when he called out for her as he walked in the door, he knew exactly where she must be. 
Jack made his way to Y/N’s art studio and could hear her humming along to the music she had playing that was leaking out through the cracked door. 
Carefully, he peaked in the crack of the door, trying not to disturb her. 
“With you all the time…” Y/N sung to herself as she kept her focus on the brush strokes she was creating across the canvas she had infront of her on the floor. 
With a small smile on his face, Jack backed away from the door and walked towards their kitchen, on a mission to make dinner for the two of them while Y/N finished up her painting. 
Jack didn’t have much experience in the kitchen as he was often working late and Y/N would make something before he got home, but surely he could figure something out. 
Shifting through the contents of the fridge, Jack came across some chicken breasts that Y/N must’ve been planning on cooking tonight as they had already been taken out of the package and prepped. He figured it would be easy enough to do something with that. After he preheated the oven, he found himself a baking pan, placed the chicken in it, and then hunted the cabinets for some type of seasoning. After seasoning the chicken to the best of his ability, Jack placed the chicken in the oven before moving on to find something else to prepare to have with the chicken. 
Jack found a bag of potatoes in the lazy susan and decided that mashed potatoes must be a dish he could easily conquer. Before beginning on those, he found himself looking in the freezer to see if they had any of Y/N’s favorite vegetable, broccoli,  to also go with their meal. Jack always found it weird that out of all the choices out there, broccoli was her favorite. But, he wanted to make her a good meal and he knew that would make her happy. 
They had some microwavable packages of broccoli, so, after he found one, he placed it in the microwave to cook for a few minutes before working on the mashed potatoes again. 
Taking the potatoes out of the bag and sitting them on the table, Jack quickly realized he had no idea out to make mashed potatoes and that maybe he couldn’t easily conquer them. 
He leaned his hands on the table and looked down at the potatoes with his eyebrows pulled together. 
“Well…I at least need to mash them,” he said to himself, pushing off the table to find something to mash them with. 
He turned around with his hands on his hips and his lips pulled in his mouth as he glanced around the room. His eyes spotted a bottle of bourbon on the bar cart placed in the corner of the kitchen, “I guess this will do.” 
Jack placed the potatoes in a large bowl, glanced at the bottle of bourbon in his hand, shrugged, and the proceeded to *try* to mash the potatoes with the bottom of the bottle. 
“What the hell are you doing?”
Jack paused with the bourbon bottle mid air as he heard Y/N speak behind him. He quickly placed the bottle down and turned to smile at her.
“Don’t look at that, but I’m making dinner! Baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and your favorite,” he said to her as he walked up to her and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her in to him. 
Jack smiled down at her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I missed you today, darling.” 
Y/N hummed and relaxed into him as she looked up at him, “I missed you, too. Didn’t realize you were home or what time it was. I would’ve made you dinner, love.” 
“You always make me dinner, let me take care of my wife for the evening, okay?” 
“Okay, but I don’t think you’re gonna get very far with those mashed potatoes if you keep that method up,” Y/N giggled looking around him at the bourbon bottle placed next to the bowl of raw potatoes. 
“I don’t think I’m gonna get very far if you keep that up,” he responded, voice an octave lower and his eyes growing heavy. 
Y/N looked back up at him, surprised by his switch in behavior. “If I keep what up?” she questioned as her heart started to beat a little faster. 
“If you keep looking so beautiful. Crazy how fast you turn me on just by existing,” Jack murmured against the side of her face, gently bringing his lips down until they graze across her lips. 
They stay like that for a beat, just grazing their lips against one another waiting for the other to make the move to connect their lips. 
Not being able to take it any more, Y/N reached up and grabbed the side of Jack’s head, bringing his lips roughly into hers. This told him everything he needed to know about how their night would go. 
Rough and rushed. 
They were devouring each other as if they had been starved of one another for a lifetime. 
Jack held on to Y/N as he moved her backwards into the living room before pushing her down onto the couch and crawling on top of her. 
He breaks the kiss and looks down at her, “Oh look at my precious little wife. I spend my evening preparing a whole dinner for her, but shes desperately hungry for something else. Hm? Isn’t that right, Darling?” 
“Always hungry for you,” Y/N quietly, breathily responds as she looks up with him with those big eyes that make him unable to restrain himself. 
Without hesitation, Jack lifts himself up to rip Y/N’s sweatpants off her body while proceeding to toss her body around until she laying on her stomach. 
He goes to land a slap against her ass when something catches his eye and he can’t help to lower his hand and let out a laugh instead, his dominant demeanor immediately dissolving. 
“What?” Y/N asks, looking back at him worried and confused as to why he was laughing at her. 
“I don’t even want to know what you have been doing in that studio to get paint all over your bum,” he said through a smile and chuckled as he lightly tapped the few splotches of paint. 
Y/N craned her neck over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the paint he was referring to before responding, “I honestly don’t either, but if you don’t stop laughing at me and just fuck me soon then I’m g-FUCK!” 
She yelped as he brought his hand roughly down on her ass, a loud smack sounding through the room. 
“I’d shut that dumb little mouth of yours if you expect me to give you anything tonight,” Jack said, rubbing the place on her ass that he had just hit. 
Y/N sighed, closing her eyes, “Yes, sir.” She relaxed into the couch knowing that if Jack was in his dominant state that she would be getting exactly what she wanted no matter what. 
He was so pussy-whipped. 
“There she is, been waiting for my good girl to come out.” 
Jack leaned back and brought his hand to the zipper of his dress pants. He undid them and pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to let his cock spring free. He reached down and pushed Y/N’s underwear to the side, feeling how wet she already was. 
“Hmmmm, barely even touched you. What? Does seeing me in the kitchen turn you into a whore for me?” 
“Always a whore for you,” she hummed back as she wiggled her ass aganst his hands rubbing her up and down. 
He removed a hand at the action and brought his hand down in a spank against her ass. “Cmon, don’t be greedy, darling.” 
While Y/N squirmed from the spank she just received, Jack to line his shaft up with her entrance brushing himself lightly against her. 
“Not greedy, just missed you.”
“Missed me? You had me last night,” Jack said as he roughly pushed himself into her. “But I guess I missed you too fuck.” 
Jack began fucking into her so roughly that Y/N couldn’t even catch her breath to moan out. 
He kept his quick pace for a minute before reaching around Y/N’s throat and bringing her up on her knees against his chest. He slowed down, giving her harder thrusts. 
She threw her head back in a moan as he slightly tightened his grip around her throat and began whispering in her ear, “There ya go, darling, there ya go. Let yourself feel it all.” 
“Mmmm, I love you so much, Jack,” she lazily spoke out with her eyes softly shut. 
“Love you forever, always want you to feel good,” Jack responded as he began kissing and sucking on her exposed neck. 
No matter how rough they were with each other, their love was always the number one thing fueling the passion. Expressing their love for one another no matter the intensity of the moment was extremely important to them. 
Feeling he was close, Jack reached around Y/N’s body with the hand that wasn’t around her neck to press his fingers against her clit. 
A whine escaped the back of her throat, her face scrunching up, and her body wiggling in his hold as he began to move his fingers to bring her to the edge with him. 
“Cmon darling, I’ve got you. Just gotta let go for me, yeah?” he said into her ear. 
Immediately following his words, Y/N’s entire body clenched up and she gripped onto Jack’s arms has tight as she could, feeling her orgasm tack control of her body. 
Shortly following, Jack halted his thrusts and released inside of her, his body shuddering has she continued to clench around him. 
They slowly caught their breath and relaxed into one another. They sat peacfully recovering in each others arms when Y/N spoke up, “Jack…” 
“Hm, darling. I got you,” he responded tightening his arms around her to keep her grounded after her orgasm. 
“No, I-is…” she stammered out, “Is something burning? Smells funny?”
Jack’s eyes shot open as he jumped up heading for the kicthen while shoving himself back into his pants. 
He forgot the chicken in the oven. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he chanted as he ran into the kitchen. 
Y/N got up and followed him into the kitchen to see him open the oven as smoke billowed out of it. 
Jack waved the smoke out of his face and quickly grabbed a pair of oven mits to get the chicken out of the oven. 
He threw the pan and burnt chicken onto the counter before slamming the oven closed. “
“Don’t look at that, either,” he let out a breath before looking back up to Y/N whose had was covering her mouth as she tried to keep herself from laughing at him. 
“Burnt chicken and raw mashed potatoes. Not sure if this is much of a dinner love,” Y/N teased with a smile on her face. 
“Don’t worry, darling,” Jack responded while popping open the microwave and pulling out the package he had placed in it earlier to cook, “We still have broccoli.” 
-
a/n
only the second one shot i’ve written and writing smut is still kinda weird for me but i’m enjoying it! omg but jack deserves it bc he’s hot !!! that’s all !!!!
lmk what you think ab it!!
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ggomos-maribat · 8 months
Text
6 | in which he orders a strawberry lemonade and peach iced tea
Part 6 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist
Marinette was reminded that she somehow had the phone numbers of the Wayne family members when Damian called on a Sunday morning. Rubbing sleep away from her eyes, she answered with her summoned 'PA' voice. "Good morning, Damian. What can I do for you?"
She could feel the wave of hesitance from the other end of the line. "Marinette. I didn't want to call suddenly on a weekend but . . ."
"If there is something you need, I'll be happy to help."
"I'll make sure to pay you—any price, you just name it." Damian sounded a little nervous. Her curiosity merely grew upon hearing it.
"Firstly, I don't want you to think that my time is easily bought with money like I'm some automated assistant—"
"I'm sorry—"
"Secondly," she sighed, "You don't have to offer me payment every single time you ask a favor, okay? I'll be happy to help regardless of the monetary compensation."
"Yes . . . alright, I understand."
"Now, what's the problem?"
Damian coughed lightly. "It's about the oil painting piece I'm working on. I considered it a preposterous idea to ask my siblings since they don't know a lick of art to offer good constructive criticism. I have no intentions of asking Father and I don't want to disturb Pennyworth. I thought perhaps someone with a good eye for artistry can advise me.
"I've finished my painting but I think something is missing from it . . . or something is wrong. Unfortunately, I will barely have any time to remake another one so I plan to salvage this one with the help of your criticism."
Damian Wayne asking for criticism. Huh. Marinette's eyebrows raised. He continued before she could speak. "I will send you a picture shortly or if it's favorable for your schedule, you may come to the manor to get a look."
"Nope."
"Excuse me?"
She swung her legs at the edge of the bed and stretched. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to bring your painting to Gotham Park. Bring an easel if you can. And you're going to wait for me there and I'll tell you what I think. Got it?"
"But—"
"Okay, Damian?"
". . . Yes, okay."
***
Marinette couldn't help but skip along the path on her way to the park. Since it wasn't technically a work-related meetup, she had decided to wear a light summer dress matched with a coat, a beret, and a pair of boots. She wouldn't tell Damian, but she was flattered he chose to come to her for help. Proud even.
She kicked a pebble aside. That means I'll have to do my best then.
She suppressed a laugh seeing Damian sticking out like a gloomy sore thumb in the park. He was hunched over on a bench, with the easel and canvas in front of him but facing away from her.
"You look like a lost kitten." The comment drew a frown from his face.
"It's a simple critique," he said quietly, "Why do we have to be at the park for it?"
"You dare question my methods, Monsieur?" She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense. "Now let's see it."
He turned the easel around.
The image was easy to put together: it was a painting of Titus, curled up in a nap near a window which traced a path of light that illuminated him like a spotlight. The striking point was the overall style of the artwork—visible strokes of warm and cool colors, swirling lines as the texture of the window frame wood, and Damian's signature cleverly disguised into the rough carpeted floor. It was easily a magnificent piece, one that transported Marinette to that same spot in the manor and basked her in the same warmth.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Damian looking back and forth between her and the painting. She could feel his uneasiness, having felt uncertainties about her craft as well, like when a thread became annoyingly loose or a design wasn't quite satisfactory.
"You're right." She tapped on her chin. "It's awful."
He stared at her.
"The choice of the colors are so contrasting that they just end up looking muddy when combined." She pointed to a part of the canvas. "And those proportions on Titus are just unrealistic, the painting focuses too much on the two subjects: the dog and the window, that they outshine the details of the surroundings, and overall? It's boring. No emotion invoked at all. You said there's no time to redo it but you're honestly better off painting a new piece even if it ends up unfinished."
Marinette wished she could take a picture of Damian's unhinged jaw.
"That's not . . . it's not . . ." He looked at his work again. "The colors are meant to contrast and I made sure their combination isn't desaturated. Titus' proportions aren't an issue because the shadows and negative spaces fill in the missing shapes, the subjects are meant to stand out but the details are also exaggerated, and it's not boring—it is meant to appear subtle and simple."
He turned to her, scowling. "You of all people should also know that art doesn't necessarily invoke emotion, rather it is more important that the artist communicates their personal meaning and the audience finds their own interpretation—"
He stopped suddenly and took a good look at her smiling face. At last, the boy catches on, Marinette thought.
"Oh," he mumbled. "I see now."
She nodded. "I brought you out here because I guessed it's much better to look at it under natural light. No offense, but the manor barely gets any of that, especially if you're looking at it inside your room."
Damian touched the edge of the easel, as if connecting once more with his creation.
She inched closer to the painting, bending down a little to examine the finest details he added. "You said you felt something was missing but I think it's as complete as it could be. It's beautiful, Damian, really. I'm happy you let me look at it."
Pink. His ears are pink. Marinette fought off another smile.
"Thank you." Damian looked away. "I've been wondering for a long time what to do with it."
"Are you going to ask for it to be put in the manor gallery?"
"If Pennyworth approves, yes. After the exhibit."
Marinette pouted. "What do you mean 'if Alfred approves'? Of course he will! If not, I'll buy this painting myself!"
His eyebrows raised. "You must know Pennyworth has some criteria for the manor gallery. Mar'i's drawing has only been put on the refrigerator door."
She laughed at that, imagining the scenario play out between the girl and the butler. She let her joy subside when she noticed Damian glancing at a building next to the park. Following his gaze, she spotted a newly-opened store that sold bubble waffles and drinks.
"If you do not like monetary compensation," Damian began, "Perhaps a drink will be more favorable? I heard that the place is in its soft opening."
A smile slowly formed on her lips. "Damian Wayne, are you asking me out on a date?"
"It's not a date!" He hastily denied. "It's a repayment."
"Mmhmm, sure why not? It's getting hot anyways." She sat down on the bench, crossing one leg over another.
He told her to wait there before jogging towards the store. Marinette took more time to admire the painting. Based on Bruce's stories, a younger Damian wouldn't be the type to gently ask for critique, nor one to make sure he did a favor in return. There was even a chance that if she ever recounted the day to her boss, Bruce wouldn't believe any of it.
But if Damian's being all soft and gentlemanly, I've no problem with it, she mused. Minutes later, she got a message from him: a semi-blurred picture of the shop's menu. She aimlessly chose her order and waited some more. He returned not long after with two bright-colored drinks.
"Are you sure this isn't a date?" She asked again.
"A date would require at least one of us to harbor romantic feelings for the other," he told her. "Therefore, it is not a date."
Well no, a date can be a prelude to any romantic feelings, she wanted to argue. But instead, she leaned towards him and smirked the cheekiest of her smirks. "How sure are you that I don't have any romantic feelings for you?"
He choked on his drink.
Marinette let him recover as he dabbed the corner of his mouth. "You have not given indication that you do." He avoided her eyes. "Also, you are legally not allowed to."
"Pfft, my contract with Mr. Wayne says 'thou shall not enter into a relationship with any of the Wayne children'." Her grin is stuck like glue to her face. "Not 'thou shall not flirt with Mr. Wayne's cute son.'"
"But—you . . . what . . . Why would you find me 'cute'?"
"I just do," she replied. "Why do you find Titus cute? Alfred the Cat?"
Damian started sputtering uncharacteristically, barely getting a coherent phrase out.
"Oh, you are just so fun to tease, Damian."
He scoffed loudly, then sipped more of his lemonade. "I'm glad I provide entertainment to your bland life, Ms. Dupain-Cheng."
"Yeah, thanks for that!"
It seemed that he couldn't top her comebacks so he changed the subject. "Finish your drink quickly. I'll take you home."
"A ride home!" Marinette gasped. "This is a date!"
"It's common courtesy. Pennyworth will be disappointed with me if I don't make sure you get home safe."
***
That same night, Marinette was delighted to see that the weather stayed fair, and the sky cloudless. Instead of taking her motorbike, she opted to take a stroll to her favorite fabrics shop a few blocks away from her apartment. Luckily her patterns of choice were all available despite being hard to get.
Unluckily, she noticed shadows following her as she heavy-lifted three bolts down the street.
Marinette tugged down her cap. She was close—just a hair's breadth—to saying, 'It's a bit too late to be stalking your assistant on her way home, don't you think Mr. Wayne?'
But she held onto her tongue and stopped at a well-lit area to glare at the big furry following her. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Batman?" She huffed at him.
Batman coughed, shielding himself with the darkness. "I need to talk to you."
She peered at the bright colors hiding behind him, sporting curious gazes filled with both wonder and excitement. "If it’s only you who needs to talk to me, why is the entire flock here?"
Actually, the others didn't even bother to hide. Black Bat was hugging the lamppost, Spoiler bounced on her heels and Red Robin carried a professional camera. Heck, even Red Hood was there, even though Crime Alley was miles away from the area.
She could feel the exasperation radiating off him, a truly tired parent, as he turned around to give his children vigilante partners a Look™️. In a second, they all grappled upwards, perching on their respective ledges and balcony railings as if they were an eager audience to a performance. (Marinette didn't miss the way Robin glanced her way before he went away).
Marinette arched an eyebrow. "So?"
Batman coughed. That awkward cough Bruce also does. Seriously, how come the world doesn't know his identity yet? "I would like to apologize. For intruding the office and catching you off guard and . . . throwing my weapon at you."
She gave it a minute. Just full silence and a hard stare.
Just to make him squirm.
"Okay," she said slowly. "And why did you think it was a good idea to do this in an empty street at twelve am?"
"You shouldn't be out so late at night anyways."
"What was that?"
". . . Nothing."
Stifled laughter rang from above.
She frowned. "Did Mr. Wayne agree to this? Couldn't you have done this at, I don't know, back in the office where it's safer and less creepy?"
"Wayne said you don't have overtime anymore this month," Batman grumbled.
"What, like you can't drop by during the day? No don't tell me—" She paused. "You're allergic to sunlight!"
He shifted from one foot to another. "Hn. I am not."
"You're a vampire."
"No."
"Don't worry, I won't tell." If her sore arms weren't occupied at the moment, she would've made a zipping motion with her fingers. Seeing Bruce in the spotlight of embarrassment was enough to make up for the incident. "Look at the time, I need to go now."
"We can escort you—"
"No thanks," she declined sharply while walking away. "Don't follow me home or else I'll personally ask Mr. Wayne to put a restraining order on all of you."
Marinette stopped again, remembering something, and without missing a beat, plucked something out from her sweatpants pocket. She grinned. "You forgot this."
With a flick and whoosh, the Batarang sailed towards the vigilante and stuck atrociously to the ear of his cowl.
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19emma75 · 8 months
Text
my fav frerard fics
Ok so here’s my grank fic rec list!! I’ve put links to each fic on ao3 for easy access + most if not all have nsfw/explicit elements so be warned!! I’ve written afew tags next to each one so u get an idea but no spoilers ok here we gooo
⭐️ = fav of all time/must read
- The Best Part of My Day by pixie_revolver - office co-workers au
- ⭐️pinkish by antspaul - kid fic, fake relationship to lovers
- Black Market Blood by autoschediastic - short vamp!gee/human!frank
- ⭐️The Mess We've Made by ViciousVenin - pencey era frank, strangers to lovers, angst with happy ending
- Life as a Process by ViciousVenin - fav vamp!gee fic, college roommates au
- Happy Together by MorningGloryxxx - focus on mental health/lgbt themes/addiction, eventual happy ending
- A Splitting Of The Mind by Shoved2agree - yall already know, cw for heavy mental health focus
- Unwanted Thoughts by ViciousVenin - touring, pining, friends to lovers
- Skin of the Canvas by sinsense - art school/nude model au
- ⭐️Unholyverse trilogy by Bexless - holy grail of fics, priest!gee, demons, stigmata (you've probably already read this ik)
- ⭐️The Anatomy of a Fall by novembersmith - supernatural, high school au
- ''that was easy'' by metaleaterz - 'the staples fic', they just work at staples and its cute ok
- another superstition by metaleaterz - friends to lovers houseflipping au
- ⭐️Crossed Out by Haze - time travel and blood magic!! so incredible it should be made into a tv show umbrella academy style
- ⭐️In a Column of Lights by xobarriers - entomologist!gee/director!frank, SO wholesome and sweet and lovely
- Did You Miss Me? Cause I Missed You by LiberXI - wholesome/funny/smutty friends to lovers college au
- ⭐️Nothing Above Nothing Below by LiberXI - pencey era strangers to lovers with a supernatural twist, LOVE the writing style sm
- You Will Leave a Mark by brooklinegirl - short but intense pencey era strangers to lovers
- rough ‘round the edges by starryfrens - sick fic with gee as frank’s caregiver, heavy and heartwarming
- Living on a prayer by beforethesungoesdown, Kitoko_kun - priest x priest with expected amounts of catholic guilt and pining
- Before The Second Show by CharredLips - sweet + fluffy bullets era mutual pining
- ⭐️Wishing You Were a Ghost by pixie_revolver - “right person wrong time”, angst with happy ending, heartbreaking but amazing
- ⭐️Kinktober 2023 by insusurro - all parts set in the same universe, surprisingly heartwarming for the subject matter, great characterisation
- ⭐️Moth to Flame (or Whatever) by onceuponamoon - insanely perfect florist au
- Companion by onceuponamoon - workplace au (carer/office worker)
- Buy Handmade + Bread and Butter by jjtaylor - adorable artist/baker au
- ⭐️Paris!Verse trilogy by vesna - artist gerard/record label owner frank, INSANELY good characterisation, so beautiful and emotional
- Time Travel ‘verse by ladyfoxxx - funpoison/frankghoul/rrr time travel shenanigans, amazing and kind of heartbreaking
- Christmas Miracle by insusurro - wholesome and festive teacher au
- Choosing My Confessions series by pixie_revolver - kinky/wholesome priest au
- a constant record of disillusion by drapnel - non au realistic pre-bullets to post-summer sonic ‘04, heavy so read tags
- All Through The Night by LiberXI - bullets era meet cute
- ⭐️The Horror That I’m In by pixie_revolver - paramour estate, paranormal activity, frank goes through the horrors, angst with happy ending
updating periodically so keep an eye out <3
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arealphrooblem · 1 year
Text
Mutually Assured Destruction Part 4
Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.
“How is this art?”
Civilian had never heard of Rothko before this date, but they had assumed they would be looking at normal paintings — portraits and landscapes.
Not squares of color on a rectangle canvas.
Sure they were impressive in their size. But their simplicity clashed against the other paintings in the museum, full of intricate details and delicate brush strokes.
It definitely clashed with their idea of art. But also part of them wanted to get under Jonathan’s skin.
“Did you grow up under a rock?” Jonathan grumbled. “How are you so uncultured?”
“It’s literally two squares of color. I could paint something like that,” Civilian argued.
“Yes, but you didn’t,” he pointed out peevishly. “And even if you did, these are so much more than squares of color.”
“How so?”
Jonathan guided them closer to one of the paintings, his hand gentle on their shoulders. He positioned them directly center of one of the paintings and then stood behind them, close enough for Civilian to feel his breath stir the hair at the nape of their neck.
“To understand and appreciate this painting takes time. You have to really look.” His voice, so soft, so close, sent a small shiver down Civilian’s spine. “Rothko uses simultaneous contrast in his colors to create the illusion of light. If you stare long enough, you can see the color shimmer and move.”
Civilian squinted at the painting, trying to see what he described. At first they just remained a block of color. But, true to his word, after a few minutes, they began to see the shimmer, the glow, of the paint. Faint hues appeared in the black — red-black and dark dark blue-black. They shifted into one another, almost like a dance. It was hypnotic.
“Do you see it now?” Jonathan whispered.
“It’s . . .surprisingly beautiful,” they murmured.
“Just like you.”
The spell between them snapped. Civilian jerked around only to be met with his wicked smirk.
“So the unrefined can be taught,” he said. “You should be proud.”
“Shut up,” they snapped, cheeks hot.
He gestured to the next room. “Shall we continue?”
As they coasted to a stop on the third yellow light in five minutes, Civilian side-eyed Jonathan.
“I think this is your power — getting every yellow light.”
“That’s not a power — that’s a curse,” he muttered.
It had become a game between them. A strange, fucked up game where Civilian guessed intentionally wrong answers about the power behind his aura and he neither confirmed nor denied it.
Downplaying such power made it easier to bear sometimes, but also . . .it was dangerously easy after a month of “dating” to forget that he even had a power. The aura had turned into the background noise of their life, the way people who live by train tracks learn to tune out the noise of the trains.
Jonathan treated them to lunch every day at work, and once a week he took Civilian on a proper date — dinner and bowling (he got a perfect score compared to Civilian’s five gutter balls) or trivia night at a local bar (they both lost miserably in the sports category) or an afternoon trip to the aquarium in the next city over (their favorite date so far).
Civilian did not have any choice in the activities or any knowledge of what each date would bring, but underneath the constant layer of anxiety and frustration that coated every interaction with Jonathan was genuine enjoyment.
The dates were the only real social interaction that Civilian had outside of run-ins with neighbors and coworkers. A fact they tried not to dwell on too much.
Tonight they pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater. Civilian raised an eyebrow when Jonathan bought two tickets to Blood in the Stone but said nothing. Refined Art Museum Jonathan didn’t seem the type to like supernatural horror movies, but so much of him stayed shrouded in mystery that predicting anything about him was impossible.
Civilian, on the other hand, did not like horror movies. But they refused to let Jonathan see their trepidation. Instead, they watched the screen stone-faced and ripped the napkin in their lap to shreds. Something warm and ticklish slide down the delicate skin of their wrist just as the movie protagonist got caught up in some horrific tentacle monster and Civilian could not stop the scream from bursting out.
Jonathan’s warm breath brushed against their ear as he chuckled. His fingers slid down to detangle the twisted remains of napkin from their hands.
“Should we leave early, before you wet yourself?” he whispered.
“Why did you pick this movie?” Civilian hissed, refusing to look at him.
“Maybe that’s my power — I’m not afraid of things that aren’t real.”
“Maybe your power is being an obnoxious prick.”
He chuckled again, a low rumble in their ear, and Civilian had to bite their lip against the strange shiver that rippled down their spine.
A jump scare burst onto the screen. Civilian yelped, their fingers reflexively squeezing Jonathan’s hand. They expected him to pull away the second their death gripped relax, but his hand stayed throughout the rest of the movie, fingers casually interspersed with theirs.
Part five here
Tagging: @those-damn-snippets, @heroes-villains-side-blog
@anonymousewrites @follow-me-into-the-fog @sunnyside-world @rivalriotrenegade @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room
Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged!
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askcometcare · 3 months
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how did u get the idea for the emoji icons? and can we make our own for our characters :pleading:
OOC: a few years back i made edits of official twemoji animal emojis (pngs at the time) to be sparklecare characters! they're really outdated and old and crusty because i only used pngs at the time, but when i started working on cometcare i thought it would be a cute little thing to make the profiles unique.
i'll try and explain how i do this as best as i can, sorry if this is confusing!
for context, twemoji is an open-source emoji font that is officially made by twitter. it's what discord uses for its default emojis! it's completely free. you can find all the assets and svgs here on the official github page. to edit them, go into the 'assets' folder after downloading and find your chosen emoji by scrolling for it in the 72x72 folder, these are all pngs.
unfortunately, the files arent sorted by name of what it is, but instead just letters and numbers. once you find the one you want, copy-paste the file name and search it in the svg folder (as the svg has the same file name as the png version) and copy it into your vector editing program.
its kind of a hassle to navigate through these repeatedly because there's SO MANY OF THEM, so what i recommend doing is copy-pasting all of the animals (and other objects if you want to do stuff like use the tophat like i did for soob) into one big svg canvas (or a folder if you want, but i recommend the canvas just so its easier) and copy and re-use them for each of your characters. i also recommend scaling up the image so when you export it, it's not super small and you can put it in an art program to make the icon.
you absolutely can use this idea, no need for credit! if you don't know how to work with vectors, it's relatively easy to learn, check out inkscape since its a free program! there's also paid programs like adobe illustrator but inkscape is something i learned to use in a high school art class so i'm pretty familiar with using it
you can use this method for basically anything you want, you don't need to limit it to toyhouse icons or anything! you can make custom emoji for servers and stuff too if you want :]
in theory you can make edits of the regular pngs, but its not as easy to edit the colors as it is in a vector editing program and can make the lines crusty
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