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atemins · 19 days

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This years redraw, made in time and all😁

There are definitely things I like and dislike in this, I had a lot of trouble drawing Drew for example. I think I redrew something on him at least five times and I’m still not happy with him😭

Despite the mediocre results with anatomy and rendering I think this years redraw showcased how much I’ve improved in the realm of compositions, it’s something Ive really focused on for my art-project in school so that’s fun! I also managed to film the majority of the process this year too! So that will be up in a few hours😄

#my art #digital art #art #artwork #fanart #redraw #contestshipping #illustration #pokemon harry potter au #pokemon #Pokemon au #pokemon fanart #may maple #drew hayden #dawn berlitz #Paul shinji

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householdpowerhouse · 2 years

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long wait at pokemon center

#contestshipping #drew hayden #may maple #householddraws

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amateurmagic · 9 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Haruka | May/Shuu | Drew Characters: Haruka | May, Shuu | Drew, Haruka no Glacia | May's Glaceon, Solidad, Joui | Nurse Joy, Lucky | Chansey Additional Tags: Contestshipping, yet another May in Johto fic, bc that idea hasn't been done to death lol, Set Post-Wallce Cup, All of that is still canon, Dorks in Love, Friendship, Slow Burn, Romance..?, Teasing, Drew attempting to flirt, Angsty May toward the end, (yeah that was weird to write), Angst, Post-Canon, If you think I stole something from a ffn.net fic, you're probably right, Will probably give this a better title once my two braincells find each other, stand-alone scene from a larger fic i have in pieces on my google drive, POV Multiple Summary:

Still in a ribbon slump and her first contest back in Johto after the Wallace Cup, all May wanted was a quiet contest to get herself back on track. No rivals. No drama. No questions.

Welp. So much for that.

My late submission for Contestshipping day 2023 (I'm telling myself it's fine bc ao3 broke)

Happy Contestshipping Day 2023 (and one day late bc i suck lol)

I wanted to contribute finally so here's a stand-alone scene from my "CS in Johto" fic I have half assembled in my noggin. Maybe one day I'll actually churn out the rest of it, but for now this was the scene that was most complete to be published alone.

#contestshipping #may maple #drew hayden #shuuharu #pokemon #pokeani #pokemon fic

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fleuraimer · 5 months

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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.

wc: 1.6k

cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.

Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…

They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.

Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.

Well, maybe a few things.

Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).

They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.

One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.

Two, he loved to take care of her.

So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.

It was fucking perfect.

One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.

Like now.

The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.

So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).

———

Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.

As if anyone else could do what he does for her.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.

Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.

She needed a good cry.

“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”

She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).

Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.

Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).

The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?

Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.

She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.

Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.

“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.

Oh? She wanted to order him around?

“Please.”

Oh. Guess not.

“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.

She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.

“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”

“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.

How precious.

“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”

She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.

“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”

Y/N does not need to be told twice.

One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.

They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.

He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.

And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.

“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.

He gives her one, anyway.

“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.

“Huh?”

“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”

Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.

“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.

It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.

…Oh well.

So be it.

“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.

“Daddy’ll make it take.”

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dance-is-life27 · 2 months

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Daylights Delight

James Kelly x Reader

Summary: The best part of a lazy day is that you get to wake up with James in your arms.

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of a height difference, gender-neutral reader

A/n: This is really just 1k words of loving and cuddling with James Kelly. Also partially inspired by this prompt list. 💛✨️

The world around you slowly fades in from the darkness behind your eyes. It takes half a millisecond for you to feel the sun shining on your face and the warm solid weight against your chest and lower body. When you realize that sleep will not claim you back into her arms and the sun’s ever-persistent shine would blind you without remorse, you look down, onto the weight against your chest.

A sleeping James Kelly awaits your sights and every part of you hums with comfort as you look at him. He clings to you in his sleep like a koala, with his legs tangled around yours and his hands gripping at your sides as if he fears you'd run off in your sleep. His head rests right in the space between your chest, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and his hair beautifully. And while breathing is slowly becoming inaccessible to you, you wouldn't trade the sight in front of you for anything in the world.

It's not often you get to see James like this, this vulnerable to you. When you first met him he was guarded, exceedingly pessimistic about the life that surrounds him, and seemingly distant from it simultaneously, as if he was running away from himself half the time. Whatever else it is that he's running away from is still a mystery to you.

But now, even though he hasn't told you everything that plagues him, past and present, you still love him with everything in you. You still have welcomed him into your home, into your life, and into your heart.

Unable to help yourself, you untangle one of your arms from under the covers and begin to caress his hair. The soft silky hair welcomes your fingers with ease as you slowly card through his dark brown locks.

You take a risk as you inch closer to his scalp with each run-through, the repeated motion soothing your soul but also increasing the risk that James will wake up prematurely. Still, you persist, unable to pull away and leave your lover be.

You wish that you could encase yourself inside this moment forever, to take the soothing warmth of the sun and the comforting pressure of your love and entrap it into a bottle, to seal it away for eternity.

You don't know how long it's been when James finally wakes up, the scrunched-up eyebrows and the slight shake of his head snap you out of the trance you were in. You find your hand leaving his hair to caress his cheek gently, the motion getting him to look up at you with ease.

“Good morning.” You rasp, the long-lost sleep is still evident in your voice. James's bright blue eyes soften as they gaze into yours, the sight instantly filling you with joy.

“Mornin’ baby,” James speaks, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, but before you can do anything, James is crawling over you, his weight leaving your body for a moment before he’s hovering just over you, the both of your bodies in alignment regardless of the height difference between the two of you.

The kiss is slow and sweet, matching the lazy feel of the day so far. The both of you take your time exploring each other’s mouths as if it were your first time all over again. Your mind goes blissfully blank as the kiss deepens but it remains gentle. You cradle James’s face and enjoy the feel of him in your hands as time stops around you. Your sole center of focus lies in the man above you. The both of you lost to each other as the rest of the world fades away.

James is the one who pulls away first, and you let out a whine when he pulls away completely to crawl backward, back down your body to resume his earlier position but instead, his head rests over your stomach rather than your chest. “I’m right here, not going anywhere,” James mumbles against your skin, his mouth leaving kisses all over your stomach and his hands rubbing softly at your arms and sides, the actions comforting you more than necessary but you wouldn’t stop him nonetheless.

Eventually, James stops on his own, his head once again resting against you and this time your lungs are grateful for the break. It doesn’t take long for your hand to find James’s hair again nor for the motions to ease you both back into a comfortable near silence. The only noise comes from the sounds of cars passing outside as everyone else leaves to get a start on their day. The peacefulness surrounding you is enough to practically lure you back to sleep, well, at least until your stomach begins to growl, the sudden loud sound ruining the moment entirely.

James smiles wide against your stomach, the faintest hints of a chuckle leaving his lips before he looks up at you once more. “Sounds like someone’s hungry, huh?” James jokes, his grin wide and blinding in a way that distracts you for a moment before you can find a response falling from your lips.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna get up. I’m really comfortable right now with you.”

“Oh, baby,” James mocks the pout on your lips before his smile once again turns teasing. Your protests die on your lips when James begins to kiss his way up towards your lips, each one leaving a lingering tingling sensation. From your stomach to your chest to your jawline, James invisibly marks his way up your body until he finally stops at your mouth. You find yourself unable to fight as you breathe into the kiss, mere seconds with James on your lips making you dizzy once more. James hums when he pulls away and the sound makes you smile, “How about we continue cuddling after breakfast? Hmm?”

Unknowingly the pout reappears on your face at his words, the clingliest and neediest parts of you wanting to stay in bed with James forever. “But-” You begin to protest once more but the kiss that James leaves on your lips stops you in your tracks easily.

“We’ve got the entire day to ourselves, I promise you, we’ll spend the majority of it right here.” James leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth and the way the sun shines off his skin makes him look heavenly. “After breakfast.”

A sigh leaves your lips, knowing that there isn’t much that you can deny James Kelly, “Fine, after breakfast.” You agree in a whisper as you pull him down to kiss you one more time before the both of you have to rise and your day together has to officially start.