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#like a Rubens painting
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Prometheus Bound by Peter Paul Rubens // The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabernal // Francesca by Hozier
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teansouprmyjam · 2 months
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[ID in Alt Text]
studies of rembrandt peale that turned into this guy
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countv0ncunt · 17 days
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Stay Chill...da
^ the dumbest fucking line ever and I can't stop saying it
SHE'S SO TINY!
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Daedalus and Icarus – Andrea Sacchi // Daedalus Fixing Wings onto the Shoulders of Icarus – Pieter Thijs // Daedalus and Icarus – Orazio Riminaldi // Icarus and Daedalus – Charles Paul Landon // The Fall of Icarus – Jacob Peter Gowy after Peter Paul Rubens // The Lament for Icarus – Herbert James Draper // Daedalus and Icarus – Laurent Pêcheux // Daedalus and Icarus – Anthony van Dyck // The Last One – Maisie Peters
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mxwhore · 7 months
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boobies...
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what a beautiful day outside.
Perfect for making a sans cosplay
(:
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caput-mortuuum · 3 months
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do you ever see a painting by Rubens and think Damn,ThisGuyGetsIt™?????
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allyeardepression · 23 days
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@jegulus-microfic | march 7 phase | words: 644
tw: transphobia, anger issues, swearing
When Walburga finally passed away, Regulus and Sirius took their partners to check if there was anything worth keeping in the house they grew up in.
As they entered a shiver went down Regulus spine, all the horrible memories coming back. He wanted to leave as soon as he saw the family portrait hung on the wall across from the entrance. There were four figures painted on it - Walburga, who looked terrifying even in a painting that was supposed to warm her image; next to her stood Orion, haughty, with a mustache covering his mouth; they both had one of their hands each on the shoulders of their children - Sirius and someone Regulus never was.
"Love, you're shaking," a soft whisper came to his ear as a hand reached his back, squeezing lightly in a comforting gesture, calming him down a little. "They're gone, nothing's going to happen, I've got you," James murmured into his hair, kissing him there a moment later.
Feeling a bit less stressed Regulus nodded and smiled at his fiancé, taking his hand. James smiled, too, squeezing the hand lightly.
As they went through the Grimmauld Place lots of expensive, mostly useless shit was found - some swords, ancient piano, silverware made of real silver, Dior plates (why? just… why?) and paintings by famous painters such as Rubens, Monet and some others. Reaching second floor Regulus immediately went to scratch off the name tag on his old room’s door.
"This bitch! She could have just left it, but of course not! It would be too much of a disgrace to the family if anyone noticed!" he yelled, as the tag fell to the floor piece by piece. Regulus started banging on the door, angry to the point that tears of frustration started streaming down his face. "You could’ve just tear it off and not put another one on, but of course you’re too envious for that! I hate you! Do you hear me?! I!" bang. "Hate!" bang. "YOU!" Regulus may have acted a bit psychotically, but who wouldn't in his situation? His own mother was being transphobic towards him even from her grave.
When he calmed down few minutes later, James approached him, kneeling by his side and whipping the tears away. "Better?" he asked Regulus and he responded with a small nod. At that James pulled Reg to his chest and held tight, whispering sweet nothings to him.
***
A few hours after Regulus' breakdown, they had packed up all of their old clothes (most of them were to be sold and the rest would be given to their future children), grabbed some of the nicer things their parents had left behind, and sat in the living room with tea and an old photo album. As they flipped through the pages there were comments like ‘Don’t you have any normal pictures? Like, from a bathtub or a playground or something?’, provided mostly by Remus.
When Regulus turned another page James gasped and Remus whistled. In the photo, he sat at the Christmas Eve table with freshly cut short hair, wearing a black suit and matching tie.
"Your inner Sirius awoke that year, huh?" his brother-in-law asked with amusement.
"Oh, his inner Sirius awoke to the point he even wore a binder to piss them off further. And I, as an ally, acted like I didn’t know who they were referring to anytime someone used his deadname. Mother told me to stop then, remember Reggie?" his brother asked, turning to him. "She said that it was just a phase" they both laughed at the memory. Yes, Walburga almost had a stroke as Regulus walked down the stairs in one of Sirius’ old suits and a new haircut. She was so stunned she forgot to punish him after everyone went home.
"Well," Reg said, smirking smugly "I guess it wasn’t just a phase, mother."
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oldpaintings · 6 months
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I tried one of those AI image generators to see what the hoopla is all about.....artists, you have nothing to worry about. Prompts are: Medieval lady picking golden apples at night in the Rubens painting style.
That thing gave this poor girl three arms, and it looks like any generic modern fantasy art. She's pretty though.
Yea or Nay?
#ai
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julianalvarez9 · 9 months
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daddy's day / rúben dias
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author's note: need to stop having ideas for this man out of nowhere. wrote this in like, 2 hours, so not proofread at all, just wanted to get it out in time 😮‍💨 feedback is very much appreciated, as always! <3
summary: it was father's day, and even if rúben, technically, still wasn't one, you decided it would be fun to wake him up with a cake and some morning sex to celebrate the day.
warnings: SMUT!!! oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, badly traslated portuguese.
wc: 1.5k words.
you knew how strict ruben's diet was during the season. you hoped that, now that he was on holiday, he would lose it a little.
the cupcake was safely stored in the box it had since buying it in the bakery, and you felt giddy with excitement, trying to not make any noises as you were going up the stairs to your shared bedroom in the summer villa in portugal, where you two were staying. hopefully, rúben would still be asleep, like he was when you slipped out of bed earlier, when you went to retrieve the secret present.
peeking through the half-closed door, into the room, you saw your boyfriend soundly asleep. he had his top half on show, muscles making you salivate at the mere sight, while his bottom half was hidden behind the silk sheets. he had one one arm behind his head, and the other resting on his low abdomen, making him look as if he was sculpted by the gods himself. to you, he was.
you felt slightly guilty for waking him up, but in reality, he had already slept in more than he normally would have. your feet were soft against the carpet, wanting to avoid waking him up and ruining the surprise. you rested the little box in the bedside table at his left, and now, with your two hands free, you could use one to support your weight on the bed, swinging your right leg to straddle his lap. 
rúben's eyes remain closed, although you knew he must have woken up, given that your boyfriend was a known light sleeper. but even if you hadn’t known that fact, his calloused hands finding your waist would be enough alert of his woken state. still, he didn’t say anything, choosing to play pretend instead.
“baby, wake up,” you whined, and the littlest smile grazed his lips, “i have a surprise for you”.
that seemed to pick his interest, because he tried to open his eyes, but not successfully, given the excessive sunlight that painted the room. “you know it’s not my birthday, right, anjo?” he said, squinting his eyes to catch your expression. you nodded, but still, lifted slightly from his lap to retrieve the little bakery box.
he groaned in discontent at the loss of your body against his, but soon enough, you were pressed against him again; the silk sheet and your lace bottoms the only layers separating rúben and you. one of his hands found home in your waist, again, while the other one was kept under his head, in a makeshift pillow, that held his head higher, to maintain his focus on you. “it might not be your birthday, but it is father’s day”, you pointed out, opening the box to show the little round white cake, decorated with little red hearts.
the red letters on top that read “let’s eat this cake and have sex” remained hidden to rúben, who now was completely awake. you were too concentrated sweeping your finger over the cake and tasting the frosting to really see your boyfriend’s surprised expression. “you’re not a dad yet,” you rushed to explain, and the way he smiled, with his whole teeths on display, had you feeling warm inside. “but you could be a year from now”.
“so, are we celebrating in advance?” rúben giggled, and you shifted over him, now feeling his hardened member close to your heated center. he got up now, supporting his weight onto his elbows, and with this new position, he could see what the red letters said. his brows shoot up, curious if the sentence that could be read truly represented what you meant, and you only laughed, getting another taste of the frosting. it was a clear provocation given the pleased noise you made, and the ‘plop’ sound your finger made when it left your lips.
rúben dived right in, capturing your lips against his in a heated kiss that was interrupted sooner rather than later. “we’ll save this for later, yeah?” he said with a rough voice, taking in his hands the box that was placed on his abdomen to rest on the bedside table, again. you pouted “you didn’t even have a taste”, at which he replied, “interested in tasting other things first, anjo”.
you didn't comply when he swapped your bodies, now him being the one hovering over you. this way, he could kiss you how hard and deep he wanted, not afraid of dropping anything to the floor. it turned heated and messy quickly, with his wet kisses making their way onto the column of your neck, and down. “rub-ruben, please,” you begged, already feeling too hot under his ministrations. he reached with his kisses all the way down to your center, and with the help of his hands, rúben opened your legs further. “patience, baby. i need you to be all nice and wet before, yeah?”.
you nodded eagerly, and rúben chuckled at your enthusiasm that could be seen in your undergarments, which your boyfriend quickly took off you. even if he tried to play it cool, rúben was as hungry for you as you were for him, and it quickly showed when he dived right in, licking a teasing stripe up your pussy that had you bucking your hips against his mouth. he used one of his hands, that was previously holding the outside of your legs, to your stomach, making sure you were still against the mattress, so he could keep lapping at your folds like he was a starved man.
whether intentionally or not, his nose kept bumping into your clit every time his tongue slipped back inside your wet hole, and it had you rolling your eyes and arching your back in pleasure. “not gonna last long, rubs,” you warned, feeling your orgasm was fast approaching, but it seemed to have spurred him on: he didn’t take his eyes off you for a moment, instead, continued licking, nibbling and swirling his tongue in your heated center with renewed hunger, until you couldn’t take it anymore, and thus, exploding into his mouth.
his chin glistened with your arousal when he came back to hover over you, and you lifted slightly off the bed to be able to kiss him. he moaned against your lips when your hand found his dick, free since your last encounter the night before, and already leaking pre-cum. it felt painfully hard, so you stroked it expertly, before rúben grasped your wrist. “need to cum inside of you, bonita”.
your moans at the filthy words he says answer him, even when you can’t form a coherent sentence at the moment. he taps his cock against your entrance and looks into your eyes for approval, but the only answer he gets is a whine, followed by a strangled beg. “please, rúben, need you inside of me”.
he obliges, like he always does when it comes to you. being inside of you like this, completely bare, still feels new to both of you, and it heightens the pleasure incommensurably. rúben gets inside of you quickly, pushing the first few inches in, and you both gasp at the intrusion. you shut your eyes tightly due to the pleasure and he stops, afraid of hurting you with his length, so he pulls out before he’s even all the way inside.
“no, no, please,” you beg, again, while wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his middle, trying to keep him buried inside of you. “more,” you say, voice hoarse due to the screams, and rúben goes in again with renewed force, bottoming inside of you this time. “won’t last long if you keep squeezing me like this, anjo,” he grunts, and you arch your back against him, chests clashing together.
it doesn’t take long before a knot forms in your belly for the second time that morning. it’s difficult for rúben to snap his hips against yours, when you’re trapping him inside with your legs, but he doesn’t complain. instead, he turns to whisper the filthiest words into your ear. “you gonna let me fill this pussy, eh?” he rhetorically asks, “gonna make me a dad, yeah?”.
and with that, the knot snaps like a rubber band; your orgasm crashing over you with such force that it takes rúben down too, tight ropes of white painting your warm walls. your boyfriend’s careful not to crush you when he inevitably collapses, his warm exhales arising goosebumps over your neck, where his head is currently tucked in.
“you’re gonna be the best dad,” you say confidently, caressing his soft, warm brown locks that fall over his forehead, sticking there due to the small layer of sweat over both your bodies. “i can see it. a little one, with dias printed on their back, running around”. rúben sighs, and he can’t possibly tell you how much he has been thinking about it lately, ever since you two had the conversation of starting a family together.
“i only want them to look like you” he smiles, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck to see your flushed face. “a mãe mais linda di mundo” (the most beautiful mom in the world).
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trcpicoz · 10 days
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OK but how about ruben fucking you with only his captain armband on
requests open
note: i’m trying out a new format for these blurbs lmk if you like it in my inbox<3
seeing ruben in a dominant leadership role is your biggest turn on. when he told you that pep would be appointing him as captain you were ecstatic to your boyfriend with the arm band on.
once the game concluded and you got home you couldn’t keep your hands off him. you pulled his face in for a deep kiss running your hands through his soft brown hair.
“wrap your arms around my neck and jump”
“what?”
“just shut up and do what i say”
you jumped and ruben caught you in his arms cupping your ass to hold you up as he carried you to the bedroom. he’s so strong, you felt so safe in his arms being held by your captain.
“you know, i thought you looked really hot with the armband.”
“yeah? you want me to put it on while i fuck you? be your captain for the night?”
“please do baby.”
ruben stripped down completely and his cock hanged in front of your face as he grabbed his captain’s armband to slip it onto his bare bicep. he grabbed your chin and caressed it between his fingers then pushed you onto the bed. he slipped your pants and panties off throwing them to the side carelessly. you tried to take off the jersey with his name on it until he stopped you.
“keep that jersey on while i fuck you. i want you to know you’re mine.”
he turned you over and arched your back so he could see his name while he fucks you from behind. he slipped his hard thick cock into your folds and began to stroke hard and fast not letting you catch you breath. he loved rough sex after a game especially when it was a win, he loved to let out all his adrenaline and energy on your tight pussy ending the night with three points and making his queen orgasm. ruben painted your precious walls with his seed leaving your legs shaking as he brought you to orgasm with his strokes.
“you wear that arm band when we fuck more often”
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dk-thrive · 11 months
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These are manifest indicators of a human being with immense potential.
Read. Read as much as possible. Read the big stuff, the challenging stuff, the confronting stuff, and read the fun stuff too. Visit galleries and look at paintings, watch movies, listen to music, go to concerts — be a little vampire running around the place sucking up all the art and ideas you can. Fill yourself with the beautiful stuff of the world. Have fun. Get amazed. Get astonished. Get awed on a regular basis, so that getting awed is habitual and becomes a state of being. Fully understand your enormous value in the scheme of things because the planet needs people like you, smart young creatives full of awe, who can minister to the world with positive, mischievous energy, young people who seek spiritual enrichment and who see hatred and disconnection as the corrosive forces they are. These are manifest indicators of a human being with immense potential.
— Nick Cave, from a response to a question from Ruben in The Red Hand Files, Issue #223, February 2023 (via Make Believe Boutique)
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808heartz · 7 months
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jack of all trades — rúben dias
apart of the dad series.
prompt: setting up the baby’s room.
genre: fluff, domestic fluff.
summary: when rúben declines your help to paint your baby’s room, you can’t hold back your tears. luckily, rúben not only knows how to paint a room, but also stop your tears.
warnings: none.
The straps of his denim overalls sat loosely on his toned shoulders, slipping occasionally and he couldn’t be bothered to fix it, focused on the strokes of paint that he was applying on the primed walls.
Rúben was pleased with himself: he didn’t consider himself a painter or a carpenter, and hell, he knew he wasn’t a journeyman, but he was convinced that he was in another life. He had built the crib, not from scratch, but damn near close, and he made sure it was sturdy—something that was of equal concern to the both of you, but especially for him. He had even learned how to paint the walls, and the process, making sure it was plastered and primed before he even dragged the coated brush against the wall.
“You’re full of surprises, you know that?”
He turned to you and grinned, feeling his cheeks flush as the sight of your belly—almost eight months, yet you looked as if you were ready to pop at any moment, and he still couldn’t wrap his head around at how quickly time had went by in your pregnancy. He thought everything he’s been told about time flying was a lie, as it only felt like just yesterday you told him that the two of you were expecting.
“How’d I get so lucky with you?” You smiled as you waddled into the room, feeling as if getting to where he stood took hours from the seconds it actually was. Your hand rested on the small of his neck and he looked down at you, brown eyes soft and full of light as he reached down to press a kiss against your lips.
Rúben’s cheeks were still full with a sweet warmth, getting shy at your praises. “I got lucky with you,” He sighed in content, and of course, he couldn’t forget about your baby—setting down the paint brush, so his hands could caress your belly. “And you, too.”
The kicks against your belly were no longer a shock to you, but they always took him by a surprise; swearing that there was a world class footballer in-the-making cooking in your stomach right now. The baby always seemed to love the compliment whenever Rúben would make it, as if she knew what he meant already, and took it literally, kicking restlessly whenever his hands laid on your stomach.
“You always know how to get her riled up.”
His smile was cheeky, yet embarrassed: this was like a dream to him, something he’d only seen once and knew he had to make happen the moment he knew loved you. He’s a father now, and his joy was uncontrollable—something that made the experience of carrying your baby even sweeter.
“What can I say?” Rúben shrugged, picking up the paint brush again. “She already loves her daddy.”
The brush moved with a swift and gentle purpose, coating the walls as you watched him in awe.
You didn’t know how he picked such a perfect color.
Of course, his newfound extensive knowledge on the most stimulating room colors for babies must’ve helped him a ton, but his attention to detail and all the handy work was beginning to make you feel as if you weren’t doing enough now.
Granted, the forty-weeks were catching up to you, and bed rest was something your body craved nowadays, but you felt bad about Rúben doing this on his own.
Even if he didn’t mind.
“Do you want me to help?”
Ruben’s head cocked to the side as he sent you a knowing look, one that told you to not ask that again. It’s not that he didn’t want your help, but there was no need, and as much as he tried to shout that from the rooftops, the two of you knew that you were too stubborn for your own good. Though, that wouldn’t stop him from trying to get you to rest, just for a single second: you carrying his baby was enough for him, you didn’t need to do anything else.
“Actually, you can help me with something.” He smiled, and with one final swipe of the paint brush, he set it down before grabbing your hand. He carefully escorted you over to the rocking chair—that he built—in the corner of the room, where the rest of the decorations waited to be put to use after he finished painting, and ushered for you to sit down. “Sit down and rest.”
He laughed softly when the beaming smile on your lips fell, replaced with a scowl full of annoyance.
“I’m not gonna break from lifting up a paint brush, you know.” You scoffed, plopping down on the rocking chair—a sturdy chair at that, just another thing to be in awe of Rúben and his talent. You could feel your mood changing though, and you damned your hellish pregnancy hormones, letting the tears drip down your cheeks. “Why won’t you let me help you?” Your voice was meek, but the quivering of your lips and heavy breaths made your crying sound more intense than it was.
Rúben’s hand fell onto your jaw, his thumb brushing over your chin, and he kneeled in front of you with a soft sigh. He made your teary eyes meet his gaze, a look that broke his heart instantaneously, and he felt like a piece of shit, despite him only wanting the best for you and the baby. Your name fell from his lips in a gentle whisper, as if he were trying to bring you right back to center.
“I’m sorry for not letting you help, meu amor,” He spoke softly, tone filled with an astronomical amount of empathy and understanding that only he could ever possess. His other hand grabbed yours, intertwining them, and he held it close to his clothed chest. “I just wanted you to rest, like the doctor said. You’ve been so tired, and our baby girl isn’t making it any easier for you… I thought me taking care of the room was going to help you relax more.”
“I just feel like you’ve been doing all the work and I’ve done nothing but sit here.. and be.. be pregnant.”
Your sniffling made his heart ache; he was ready to give you every single paint brush and let you work, but his desire to take care of you and carry every stressor of yours on his shoulders was stronger than he could fight. That’s just who he was, and you couldn’t help but love him for that.
“I’ll tell you what, anjo,” Rúben began to propose, and thanks to his soft grin, you suddenly felt better. “How about you help me with this wall? And if you feel okay after, we can paint the next one together.”
The gentle nod in response of yours resulted in his toothy grin, and he helped you up from the rocking chair, even walking you over to the half painted wall. He was too courteous: coating the brush with paint, knowing that you could barely bend over now, and he handed it to you, smiling when you took it.
As your hand inched towards the wall, his eyes never left it. He was whispering gentle affirmations, soft compliments, when you would brush the paint onto the wall, just wanting to make you feel important and included. He didn’t even care that you would hand him back the brush when you needed more paint—he’d be your cheerleader and get all the paint for you.
“You’re gonna be an amazing dad, Rúben.”
Your soft and sudden murmur made his cheeks flush, an unexpected comment that left him speechless. That’s all he wanted to be, in your eyes. He felt his heart quicken up as his lips turned up into an appreciative smile, the thought of your daughter arriving so soon, and how he’d take care of her just like how he takes care of you: him, and his heart, couldn’t wait.
tag list: @afterpills @fallinforerling @diabloguapos
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rubendiasthoughts · 6 months
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Imagine having rough sex with Ruben (with consent ofcourse) and he accidentally hits too deep and hurts you. You try to push him off but he is too distracted to realize what’s going on. Eventually you have his attention and he is worried because you’re not speaking. You’re trying to deal with the pain and he is just feeling so guilty and maybe he is kissing your inner thighs and stroking your lower abdomen telling you how sorry he is. And then you tell him it’s fine that it was just short, sharp pain but he insists to take care of you and just fucks you so gently and sweet holding your hand and stroking your cheek
Hope you’re having a nice Sunday sweetie! ❤️❤️
Thank you for requesting, babe!
I wrote this and decided to share, since I have kind of been neglecting this account recently. Still have some scenarios and concepts in my inbox, that I will try to answer tomorrow, this week was just very hectic 😫
Anyways, hope you like this!
Also, thank you babe, hope your Sunday was nice as well! ❤
_
"Fuck, feels good, huh?" he rasped, his hand gripping your throat roughly, as his hips snapped against yours with immense force.
Ruben's pace was driving you crazy, he was not going easy on you, making it hard for you to get any words out. You nodded your head frantically, moans slipping past your lips.
He lifted one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, the new angle making him push even deeper inside of you, you could feel him in your stomach. One of his thrusts particularly harsh, causing the pleasure that was running through your body to be overtaken by a sharp pain, your brows furrowing together at the uncomfortable sensation.
"Too much... " you pushed against Ruben's abs, but he didn't budge even an inch.
"I know you can take it, be my good girl" his hoarse voice sounded, as he grabbed your hands in his and trapped them, pinning them above your head. He was too lost in his own pleasure, assuring himself you would have used your safeword if you really weren't enjoying what he was doing to you. His eyes were focused on where your bodies met, watching himself go in and out of you, causing him to miss the uncomfortable look visible on your face.
You, on the other hand, really wanted to be good for him, wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to take it for him, your eyes closed shut, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.
That's when Ruben's eyes focused on your face again. He knew your body and your reactions well, immediately noticing something in fact wasn't right. His movement inside of you stopped, before he gently pulled out of you. He let go of your hands, his fingers immediately going to stroke your cheek.
"You okay, baby? " he asked, concern evident in his eyes as you looked up at him.
"Yeah... I'm sorry, it just started hurting a lot... " you wanted to explain yourself, but your boyfriend didn't let you finish.
"No, don't apologize. I'm the one who's sorry baby, I should've noticed, I'm so sorry I didn't want to hurt you" he rambled on, a fearful look painted on his face.
"It's ok, don't worry" you whispered, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His lips were gentle against yours, as his hand still stroked your cheek. "It was just a bit too deep" you explained against his lips, once he broke the kiss. He opened his eyes, staring down into yours.
"Want me to run a bath for you?" he asked in a quiet whisper, but you shook your head no. "Then what can I do for you, angel?" he wanted to know, concern still laced in his voice.
"Want you to fuck me" you whispered, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He looked at you with wide eyes, as you bit down on your lower lip in anticipation.
"No, baby... We don't have to" he tried to reason with you, pushing a lost strand of your hair behind your ear.
"But I want to, please Ruben" you whined, your nails digging into his bicep, as you pulled him in for another kiss.
"Don't want to hurt you" he whispered into your mouth.
"You won't, please" you whimpered, as he looked deep into your eyes, almost as if he was looking for confirmation in them. He pecked the corner of your mouth, before he trailed his kisses down, along your neck, between the valley of your breasts until he got to your stomach. His hand rubbed your lower abdomen gently, as his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He placed few more gentle kisses along your thighs before coming back up and hovering over you.
"Are you sure?" he asked, as you felt the tip of his cock dragging along your folds, making you let out a gasp.
"Yes, please... " was the only thing you managed to let out.
Ruben's hands found yours and he laced your fingers with his, before he pushed into you slowly.
"Don't worry baby, gonna take good care of you" he whispered straight into your ear. " Gonna be gentle with you" he promised, his lips trailing along your throat.
He rocked his hips into yours gently, taking his time. Each stroke ignited immense pleasure in your body. His eyes focused on your face, as he admired the way your mouth hung open and you let out cries of pleasure. He watched you closely, wanting to make sure you were enjoying everything he was doing.
"You're doing so good baby, taking me so well" his praise hit you straight in the core, making your walls clench around him. A groan left his mouth, as he felt his own orgasm approaching at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped thightly around him.
I love you's were whispered into your hair, as he fucked you through your orgasm, shortly before releasing his seed inside of you.
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goron-king-darunia · 5 months
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Eggtober 30th 2023
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"Mimicking the Master": Fried Egg on Magenta.
(Clip Studio Paint, Custom 6B Pencil brush. ? Colors. ? Time. A labor of love.)
Made a point of giving @quezify's style a serious try. Eggtober 1st, 2023 was a quick attempt to learn and practice for the most part. This was a combination of directly studying and experimenting. Eggtober 1st was more about "glance at the inspo, notice the vibes, make it your own." This was much more about "pay attention to what these techniques accomplish, try to copy the specific things you like, and then see if you can iterate."
I do still need more practice since I'm not used to this process but for a first, real, non-traced and non-direct study, (as in I wasn't trying to replicate a specific piece one-to-one) this went really well. Not 100% sure what I was going for with some of my choices, but the over-all impact has a lot of what I love about @quezify's style.
3rd Egg I did for the day. Queued for the 30th so I have time to plan the 31st. Not sure what it will be but I'm looking forward to it.
I hope @lady-quen's breadbugs love this stylized eggy!
And even though he's been tagged twice, one more ding for @quezify, inimitable, even while I study that style. The master of eggs. I've loved watching your work all month and I loved taking a crack (pun intended) at actually pegging down what you're doing. You're fucking amazing, Ruben. One last egg for the month! We can do it, bud!
But first, speedpaint.
You can tell I'm really not used to using brushes that are so opaque. I gotta practice doing gradients with opaque brushes like this. Or maybe I need to turn down the opacity on the pencil brush. Or maybe I need to blend my style and Ruben's a bit more?
Whatever it is. I'm somewhere short of where I want to be in terms of a style mimic. Not that I want to steal @quezify's style per se, though it is rad as fuck. More that knowing how it works and what this method of drawing produces is a useful tool to have. After all, half of art is inventing stuff and the other half is aping stuff you like, whether that's real world references or copying from masters. So I might need a little more practice, but the blob-tacular shading and the hatching and the use of shapes as texture are all definitely tools that are going in the tool bag one of these days. XD
Been an honor drawing for everyone. I look forward to next year!
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melanieph321 · 1 month
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Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 3/15
Part 4 and 5 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!
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Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.
Enjoy!
It was another slow day at the shop. You were sagging over the front desk with a lollipop in your mouth, thinking about anything better that you could be doing with your time. Sleep, for example.
"You're still here?" A pair of high heels were heard emerging from the back. Jenny popped up looking gorgeous than ever,  with her lips painted red, matching the color of her hair that was laid down over one shoulder. "I thought Mrs Arnold said that you'd be leaving this morning?"
"I'm not going to Liverpool." You muttered.
"No? Why not?"
Since her newfound free time due to retirement, Grandma often took the train to Liverpool whenever Trent and his team played a home game at Anfield. By now it had become tradition. A tradition that you were perhaps expected to follow, but had a long list of reasons not to. Number one:
"Trent and I aren't really speaking." You said.
"It's that bad huh?"
Jenny put on her coat and went over to the coffee machine. She returned to the front desk with her cup.
"I dunno." You muttered. "It's not like I can't call him and he won't pick up. It's more me ignoring him for what he did to me."
"You mean telling your parents the truth?"
"Right. What a dick move that was."
Jenny shook her head, a smile on her face. "I don't know, Y/N. I think that deep down your brother just worried about you not really having a job or a place to stay. He was fair to let you crash at his for a while, that's what family is for. But it was also fair of him to kick you out when he felt like you weren't pulling your weight. I mean he was basically providing for someone who should be able to provide for themselves, don't you think?"
"What if I don't wanna be a provider?" You protested, with a pout on your lips. "What if I wanna be pampered and taken care of whilst my rich husband works and I sleep all day. Isn't there a name for that? I should have studied that shit instead of marketing. What's it called again?" You snapped your fingers for the answer to come to you.
"A housewife?" Jennifer said.
"Exactly!" You pointed. "I wanna be a housewife, not a provider. Trent ruined that for me. He took my dream."
"Um, I'm pretty sure being a housewife involves more than sleeping and being provided for."
"Really, like what?"
"Well, aren't they supposed to raise children and take care of them?"
"Huh? I don't want kids."
"Right." Jennifer sighed, realizing that you had your own logic applied to the matter. "Either way I was thinking about closing down early today,  if that's okay with you?"
"What for?" You frowned.
"Well, a couple of friends and I were thinking about catching the game in a bar not too far from here. You didn't think your grandma would hire someone who isn't a Liverpool fan, did you?"
"Sounds like grandma." You chuckled.
"Yeah, so feel free to join us. If not, we could always keep the shop open, with you tending the front desk."
You shook your head. "No, you're right. We should close early and catch the game instead.
"Great, I'll finish packing up some boxes in the back, if you wanna get started on sweeping the floors?"
"Gotch cha', I'll see you in a bit."
You grabbed a broom, ready to sweep like those dusty children in that play that Grandma used to take you and Trent to see as kids. Fiddler On The Roof, it was called. You and Trent used to really enjoy spending an evening at the theater, especially back in the days when your grandpa was still alive.
You were halfway done sweeping when the bell to the front door rang and a young woman entered the shop.
"Um, hello?" You frowned. "The sign outside says we're closed."
"Hello." The woman smiled. "I'm looking for someone, a stylist that I've been told works here."
"Um, you got the wrong shop madam. We only do fittings here, not makeovers."
The woman took your words politely, batting her long eyelashes. "But I've been told that a stylist works here and a really good one at that. I'd like to meet with her please, my client demands it."
You rolled your eyes. "We'll there's only three people working here. One is me and a sixty-two year old lady with a bad hip."
"And the other one?" The lady looked you up and down, not at all impressed with what was presented to her. "Who is the third person?" She asked.
You sighed, but leaned on your broom, shouting for Jennifer. She emerged from the back to the young woman's obvious relief.
"Hello, you must be who I'm looking for."
"Um, hi." Jenny smiled, shaking the hand that the invidious young woman offered. "Do you mind if we talk in private?" She said, looking back at you with your lollipop in your mouth.
"Um, sure, why not."
The two of them disappeared into the back office but returned a couple of minutes after. By then you had swept the floors and all that was left to do was close down and lock the shop.
"What did she want?" You asked Jenny, seeing as the young woman left with her tail between her legs.
"I dunno." She shrugged. "Something about a job, but I told her that she must be mistaken because I'm not a stylist."
"Hmm, strange. "
"Yeah, either way, are you ready to go?"
"Sure. The bar is only down the street right? I might as well leave my things here, no?"
"If you want." She shrugged.
You did exactly that. The two of you were then off to the bar, a fancy and quite posh place. But apparently Jenny and her friends hung out there all the time. They were quite different from you, a different sense of humor etc. It made you feel left out, until they found out who your brother was of course. People naturally paid more attention to you once they knew that you had a twin brother who played football in the highest league in England. Same thing happened at university, making it hard for you to tell which friends liked you for you and which ones didn't. It all showed itself during your years of crashing at people's houses. In a way you saw it as a test of friendship. A test of who would put up with you the longest. So far the winner was Trent. Perhaps that's why him wanting you out, hurt the most.
********************************************
You lit the flashlight on your phone upon returning to the shop to grab your things. The night was still young and Jenny and her friends decided to head for another bar after the game. They insisted you'd come with them, however you declined the offer, saying you were tired from a day of work.
"Stupid bag, where are you?" You were looking for it in the dark. Why you didn't bother turning on the light might have to do something with the fact that you were crying your eyes out like a toddler. Why? You had no idea. It started at the bar. In the bar's bathroom to be specific. The Liverpool match ended with a victory for the home team. Jenny and her friends celebrated with a round of shots, whilst you receive an incoming facetime call from your mother. It was her, your dad and Grandma, surrounded by cheering fans who all celebrated the team's victory.
"We wish you were here honey, hope you're having a great night." She said before ending the call.
For some reason her words and the whole situation made you want to smash a mirror with your fist. You even entered the bar's bathroom,  ready to do it. It was an uncontrollable and raging feeling that swept through your body, the ones you used to get as a child whenever you felt rejected or unfairly treated. Doctors and school counselors would blame your tantrums on your ADHD, but for some reason you always blamed your twin brother Trent. It was Trent's fault that the other kids didn't want to play with you. Trent's fault that the adults swept you aside in order to praise your opposite, despite the fact that you were the first one to emerge from the womb. It was all Trent's fault.
Everything.
"Um, are you okay?"
"Aaaaahhhhh!"
Your scream echoed throughout the shop. You turned around to the sound of a man's voice, only to be met with a giant dark shadow lurking by the door.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
You squinted your eyes and let the silhouette of the streetlights reveal his identity. "Ruben?"
He smiled. "Good. You remember me."
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