#most people draw the nose small or straight up don't draw it and I get it. noses do be hard sometimes

[lynaferns]

There are two types of DCA artists evolution:

-Nose got bigger over time.

-Nose got smaller over time (almost disappearing sometimes)

-(third option) there was never a nose.

#I'm the first type #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #btw I'm not criticizing or anything. draw them however you want #I'm just pointing out something that I've been seeing since the beginning and I think it's funny #most people draw the nose small or straight up don't draw it and I get it. noses do be hard sometimes

[inbarfink]

Okay, you know what, let's talk a little bit more about Simon Petrikov's ears

I already made a silly little post pointing out how the Winter King is drawn with visible ears, while Mainverse Simon is always drawn without them.

And I've gotten a few replies on that post saying that it's probably just a difference in hairstyle. Y'know, the Winter King tacks his hair behind his ears, Simon doesn't. But... I don't think that works if you look at Simon's design. I mean, it does seem to be the case if you look at this one screenshot I here - but usually....

Simon Petrikov's little glasses are very helpful here, because they literally form a line with where his ears should be, and you can see that his hair typically ends just above that point and no matter how much he turns his head there are no ears.

In a back shot you can even see where his glasses handle end, and there's no ears anywhere to actually hold them.

(this is also true when he's Ice King btw)

It's kind of a Whole Thing. The Adventure Time artstyle has some general guidelines of how to draw humanoids' face, but it's fully willing to break them to make someone more goofy and distinctive. Like, some characters having noses or more detailed eyes or even lips. And ears are already kind of a Weird Subject considering how many AT characters wear hair/hats in a way that hides their ears anyways.

Princess Bubblegum is another earless characters, but it's actually pretty hard to notice because most of her hairstyle obscure her Perfectly Spherical Head.

But she's like, Made of Gum, so it's less Weird for her to be earless compared to Simon Petrikov who's meant to be a Perfectly Normal Human Man.

(although Prince Gumball somehow does have ears. Even when he IS in his Magic Candy Form)

(Which is like... lowkey Weird. But still, Magic Candy People's physiologically can be whatever)

Meanwhile, ears IS something pretty consistently drawn for human Adventure Time characters. So it is pretty weird Simon doesn't seem to have them. It's probably a matter of, like, Simon being one of the first not-Finn Human characters added to Adventure Time and with the aforementioned matter of most characters not having their ears/lack of ears visible either way they weren't really sure of how Humans should look in the AT style at that point.

Or maybe they wanted to keep it consistent with Ice King's "Loyalty to the King" look and decided that a Magic Evil Crown that makes your ears fall off is a step too far. Or maybe having his ears hidden by his hair is what was originally intended in his design, but was misinterpreted as being straight-up earless so consistently by the shortboarders and animators it eventually just became his canon look.

But I think also... characters having certain non-typical facial features on Adventure Time is generally an indication that they're particularly prominent. So characters who are drawn with noses generally have large noses. The smaller a facial feature is, the more likely it is to get simplified into nothing.

Therefore, looking at it from an in-universe perspective, I think the most logical conclusion is that Simon Petrikov is not straight-up literally earless - he just has weird freakishly-small ears

And the Winter King was so insecure about them he literally enlarged them with magic.

#('The Winter King' has a lot more shots where it DOES seem like Simon's ears are just hidden behind his hair than normal but I think #that it's probably just because putting him next to WK all the time really made the storyboarders and animators notice #how Weird and Earless Simon looks) #adventure time #atimers #fionna and cake #at #fac #f&c #adventure time fionna and cake #adventure time simon #fionna and cake simon #fionna and cake series #fionna and cake show #simon petrikov #simon adventure time #the winter king #winter king #ice king #the ice king #at simon

[dayfalwastaken]

Notable Slenderman designs from over the years

Something Awful: As the users of the original Create Paranormal Images thread took to calling him, "Poo Poo", the first Slendy on this list is sort of a composite variant of his first depictions. After Victor Surge had made "the Slender Man" people started creating their own photos and a couple even drew him. Designs varied, but many featured arms that turned into tentacles or tree branches, and blank faces with either few or very pronounced facial features. These first drawings gave me the impression that Slendy was a creature that attempted to blend in and look human, but if examined its nonhuman aspects would become apparent almost immediately, empty face notwithstanding. As such, while his suit gives the impression of a well-dressed man, if one looks at it from a small distance they'll note the lack of buttons, pockets and other such accessories, so in a way the suit is like a second skin as opposed to actual clothes. Merely a disguise.

Marble Hornets: The Operator! Version that got many people into the Slenderman mythos, the Marble Hornets rendition streamlined the many variations of the Something Awful forum into a simple yet iconic design. This guy is very tall, and makes it clear that he's the furthest thing from human. Proportion-wise, his torso is not even half of his total height, while his arms almost reach the ground. Weirdly enough, his hands don't seem to have fingers? And look to be morphed into the suit, though they could be wearing fingerless gloves. He has a straight upper body and shoulders, and in most entries has barely if any shadows on his face to enunciate human features. As in, most of the time his face is completely blank, although there are entries where you can spot the outlines of a nose, mouth and eye sockets.

TribeTwelve: To me, the Administrator is a more grounded (heh) Slenderman. If you ignore the times he's shown to tower over humans, this guy, while tall, isn't abnormally long. He even has human-looking skin and visible eye sockets! With regular proportions for a Slenderman depiction, he's pretty tame in appearance when he doesn't have his tentacles or spider legs out. So really, he's just a regular man in black with no face, which makes him a bit more believable but still creepy as all hell.

DarkHarvest00: Gorr'rylaehotep! This dude's like a streamlined version of the Marble Hornets Operator, which was himself a streamlined Slendy. He's like an expected evolution of a live action Slenderman, where his body isn't elongated so much as it's scaled up for him to appear larger. That said, he's in no way thick, being quite thin for a big guy in a business suit. Luckily, that doesn't take away from his scare factor, as he's remains an imposing figure throughout the series... In the shots where he doesn't move too much, that is… Having fewer overall appearances in DarkHarvest00, he's also the most consistent Slendy on this list to keep a totally blank face with no features. Neato!

Slender: the Arrival: This guy isn't slender. Like, at all. He's well-built for a Slenderman and, dare I say, kind of muscular-looking. If you shorten his arms, he's just a big human, but I think that strengthens the unease you have when you see him. The others, aside from the TribeTwelve design, don't really hide their uncannyness. Once you’ve spotted them, you know there's something wrong when you look at them. The Arrival Slenderman takes it a step further. He gets all up in your face, not even stalking you all that much. He almost refuses to blend into the background, opting to terrorize you up close. He doesn't obscure the fact that he's an otherworldy entity that shouldn't exist, and I think that's great. His ragged skin and ears melted into his skull offer him an incredibly distinct look, and given how well the game uses him, he's super scary to play against. He's also among the first Slendermen to feature a red tie, which will go on to be a very popular design choice when depicting this character.

The ways people chose to draw/show/model Slendy have always intrigued me, so I made this lil thing to show off the differences in a few designs over the past decade! I hope you've enjoyed reading through this, and I'll see you next time when I'll draw and analyse five more. Have a good day!

#Slenderman #slenderverse #the operator #marble hornets #marble hornets operator #slender man #something awful #create paranormal images #tribetwelve #the administrator #tribetwelve administrator #darkharvest00 #gorr'rylaehotep #darkharvest00 gorr'rylaehotep #slender the arrival #slenderman fanart #slenderman art #my art #digital art #marble hornets fanart #tribetwelve fanart #darkharvest00 fanart #slender the arrival fanart #dayfal

[thedreadvampy]

fwiw if you want to introduce more variety to how you draw faces I strongly suggest thinking really hard about noses

noses give you so much information about someone! they're usually one of the first things which define how we think of someone's face (after all - they're by far the feature that takes up most of it).

They change as we age - they take up more of our faces and move away from our mouths. babies almost all have round little tips of noses with no definable bridges, while depending on the type of nose an adult has they may get bonier and sharper or softer and flatter with age. nostrils widen, skin creases, eyes drop back from the bridge. I think often people try to age faces by putting wrinkles around an unchanged nose and it throws stuff off.

They're also a really racialised feature. like there is no one Black Nose or East Asian Nose or Desi Nose or White Nose, obviously, there's huge variation within and across ethnic groups, but there's a lot of overlapping trends in nose shape for different ethnicities and it's often a big contributing factor to people drawing characters of colour that kind of look like palette-swapped white people? like there are so many nose shapes that are super common but because they're relatively uncommon for white people, they're just not the noses people often learn to draw as standard.

but also a diversity of noses says so much about a character, the same way that their build or eye shape or face shape does. like. a long sharp narrow nose in a bony face? a round, slightly flat nose on a face full of smile lines? an upturned, softly rounded nose with freckles and no bridge? a long hooked nose with a curved tip? a crooked, broken nose? a bulbous, reddened nose? noses can imply strength, weakness, innocence, experience, childishness, wisdom, suffering, whatever you want to get out of a character design. don't neglect the nose!!!!

and like. obviously depending on how stylised the art is there's going to be information lost, but that's the thing - there's a real upper limit on how much variation you can put in eyes or mouths or face shape in simpler styles without making it overly realistic, but you can go really nuts on nose shapes! even with just one or two lines or one simple shape you can imply so many different noses by changing little things!

and yet really often I look at people who are trying to broaden variety on faces and they mix up everything except the noses, which stay like a circle or a triangle or a line or whatever their standard noise is, and as a result there's still this sameness to all the faces.

bc eyes and mouths and jawlines are all very well but noses are, in my opinion, the most varied part of the face. I can't think of any two people I know who have the same shape of nose except maybe me and my identical twin.

(and I'm not talking big Vs small, or hooked vs snub vs straight vs flat. really look at people's noses in real life cause there are so many variables)

(some leading questions under the cut)

how big is it? how long from the front? how far away from the face does it sit in profile?

does it have a rounded tip? how round? some people's noses have a profile that's basically a triangle point, some people's are basically a round tip with no visible cartilage above it, and everything in between.

What's going on at the bridge? in profile, is there a clear dip in between the brow and the bridge of the nose, or does the brow come straight down to meet it (or, if you have a kind of striking profile like Hangman Adam Page who looks like an early 2000s DreamWorks character, is your profile one line from brow to the top of your nose)? from the front, is there a clearly defined edge to the bridge of your nose or does it curve out? how much of the space between your eye sockets is nose, on a range from 100% to 0%?

What shape is the top of the nose in profile? Is it a straight line from bridge to tip? does it curve down? does it curve up like a ski slope? does it come to a sharp stop and angle out into a round tip?

does it have sharp edges? does it look bony, with a pronounced ridge? or is it all soft lines? Does it meet the cheek at an angle or at a curve?

does the tip come to a sharp point, or to a curve? does it angle up (so you can see the nostrils from the front), or down (so you can only see the line of the nose)?

how big is the base of the nose compared to the bridge? from the front, does it flare wide across the face at the bottom, or is it almost a straight line down? is it broader higher up the nose?

what are the nostrils doing? how big are they? are they round, or slit-shaped? do they sit behind the tip, with the noise all contained in a single pyramid shape, or do they sit to the sides? do they sit along the face, point forward towards the tip, or point up higher than the tip?

how does the nose interact with the other features? does it dominate the face? is it a tiny wee thing? does it sit over a very long upper lip with a pronounced philtrum, or is it almost touching the mouth? How much of the space between the eyes is taken up by the bridge of the nose? do the eyebrows curve towards the nose, or meet them at a hard angle? if they wear glasses, where on the nose do they sit?

colouration - is it all the same colour, or pinker at the tip or over the bridge? are the insides of the nostrils visible, and are they pale or dark pink? does the top of the nose get more sun - is it darker?

surface details - are there creases at the bridge or around the nostrils and cheeks? are they from scowling (vertical) or laughing (horizontal)? does their nose scrunch up when they smile, or flare when they're angry? is there hair? freckles? piercings? scars or breaks?

like the nose, jaw and brow are the structure around which the rest of the face is built. if you get to a place in your art style where you're comfortable playing around with that then you immediately add so much more diversity and life and verisimilitude to your characters!

also noses are just great. like they're so fun to draw and there are so many different gorgeous noses! I'm so into noses that usually the way I find how I want a character to look is to draw the eyes, draw the nose, then redraw the eyes and build the whole face around the nose.

(this advice is coming from the fact that the most common compliment I get on my art is the diversity and believability of characters and I would say that's like 50-60% in the nose/brow)

#art tips #red said #i could offer some like. proper drawings. but i am at work just now.

[lovejosephquinn]

You meet Joe at a bar. He’s there by himself following a convention. He’s in a poor disguise but he just couldn’t stand being stuck in the hotel room anymore. You recognize him but approach him as if you don’t know who he is (to not draw attention to him). You offer to buy him a drink because he looks so lonely.

You’ve had a few drink yourself and you start to dance on him. His hands start to roam and you drag him to the bathroom. You squat down and start to suck his cock. Before things go too far, he lifts you by your chin and kisses you deep.

He asks if you want to go back to his room. And you do.

After you are done (smut is up to you), you are laying there and he starts to explain who he is. Then you admit that you knew but you didn’t want to make it a big deal.

OK I'LL DO IT 🥴👀 PREPARE YOURSELF.

Word Count: 4.5k (Definitely my longest Joe x Reader imagine!)

Under 18's DNI.

You're almost too proud to admit to yourself how many times you looked over to the smallest corner of the bar, watching the man in question sip on his drink, one hand on his cheek leaning his elbow down to the countertop whilst scrolling through his phone. That man being one of the most talked about actor's in the industry at this moment in time, Joseph Quinn.

You and your friend were just on the verge of leaving when you eyed back to the corner he was positioned in and then instantaneously made the decision to make up telling her that you were going to stay a little longer because one of your friends she didn't know very well were meeting you at the pub, stating you'd forgot to mention. You knew you had no intentions of keeping this short and sweet but to simply even just say hello to him would be amazing and if it didn't work you'd just leave. The string of white and possibly innocent lies fell from your lips had you now about to be able to do just what you wanted, you shared a hug, said your goodbye's and she left. You flicked your hair in a matter of self confidence and wandered through the small crowd's of people flooded around.

Maybe it was the liquid courage that had given you the confidence, which then had you edging towards the side where Joe was stood, slamming your bag down on the table and sitting on the stool, at least only a metre away and one stool away to see if he'd notice. Surely enough, it worked, Joe hovered his gaze up at you at the sudden noise, double taking until he was well and truly scanning your features, you felt his eyes burning through your peripheral vision as you took out your card from your bag; waiting to be served for a drink.

You thought you were imagining things when a hand reached for your forearm, clenching his fingers around it, Joe held onto you with a concerned look on his face. "I hope you don't mind me prying, but are you alright love?"

You shot a look straight to him, throwing him an overly flashy smile, scrunching your nose up and nodding. "Yeah I'm okay."

"You just seemed a little, erm what's the right terminology to use here... pissed off?" Joe tilted his head to the side, his doe eyes still set on you, you even noticed the way they flitted down, was he checking you out?

You change the subject quickly, avoiding the lies you were already pulling off. "You here alone?" you turned on your stool to face him, resting your hand under chin.

"I am. Was pretty bored so I found the first pub I could to come and get a few drink's in." Joe admitted.

"Well you want another? It's on me." You flashed your card up to him and he shook his head.

"So I'm assuming you're on your own too? Wouldn't expect a pretty woman like you to be paying." You blushed at his words, leaning back and looking out to the crowd to try and hide the fact your cheeks were burning crimson red.

"I am and I insist." Looking back around, you raised your eyebrows persistently.

"How could I say no then?" Joe smirked and you chuckled at the way your stomach did flips, practically forcing it out from your throat.

"I'm Y/N." You stuck your hand out.

Joe took your hand into his, shaking it slight. "I'm Joe." He waited for the moment you were to tell him that you already knew that, but you just continued to smile away, the bartender ripping you from your intense gaze at one another when he asked if you were being served. Joe glanced into the air, pretty confused at the way you hadn't even acknowledged him in the way most people would now, he really liked it though, he felt refreshed to be that of a stranger to someone. Except he wasn't.

You ordered the both of your drinks, after Joe insisted you had the martini on the menu with him, you weren't one to admit you didn't particularly enjoy them but you'd stay off of that subject, who were you kidding; you were completely out to please this beautiful sight of a man.

You took brief sips of it once they were handed to you, grimacing at the taste but trying your best to look like you were enjoying it. You got to know him a little; not just Joseph Quinn but you got to know the real him in some way's, he hadn't give too much away, things you probably already knew, his age, where he was from, what he enjoyed doing in his spare time. Not once did he mention what he did for work, purely down to the fact he was loving the plainness of the way he felt like a regular human being again, not even flinching at the thought once that this was a question you didn't ask.

You really hit it off into the second drink, taking occasional breaks outside to go for a smoke break then going back to your quaint little corner, your safe haven together. By the fifth round, Joe was ordering tequila. The two shots you had went straight to your head and before you knew it you were edged up close to him, he had his arm round you, telling you a funny story that happened between him and his friends once upon a time, you felt your hand graze onto his lap as you laughed at the ending. By the seventh and eighth round, it was like you'd been friends forever, the way you got on with one another was like a match made in heaven, Joe's eyes were burning dark, the alcohol dilating his pupils matching yours. He stared contently at you, licking his top lip making you flutter your lashes right onto them.

"What're you looking at?" You threw a giggle at him. The most flirtatious, most girlish giggle you could ever imagine to even come out of your mouth and that would never come out of your mouth again. You weren't making that obscene noise again in a hurry.

"You're just. Beautiful." Joe's dimples formed on his cheeks as a promising and meaningful smile was thrown your way and you huffed out a sigh so loud.

"Stop it." You rolled your eyes at him, making his brows raise in question.

"I mean it." Joe's hand touched the top of yours that sat on top of the bar table, his thumb stroking over the slits of your fingers.

The moment the music turned itself up told you it was getting later on into the night, it was also the moment everyone got onto their feet and rushed to the dance floor, the bar had got a little too crowded now and you were glad to be staying put for the time being. A rather sensual song played and you leaped up off your stool, singing along, grabbing Joe's hands and swaying yourself around, much to his amusement watching you as he nodded his head along to the motion of the music, standing up and pulling you in.

He twirled you around a couple of times, catching you at your hips and bringing you backwards, your arm lent up to graze your hand at the back of his neck, starting to grind into him. The gasp of breath you felt radiate through your body made you shiver an it only enticed you to close the space between you altogether, your back firmly pressed against him and your ass now rubbing against his crotch. "Fuck, you're hot." Joe groaned, his hands giving you all the ammunition to continue as he wrapped them around you, pushing his bulge forward to meet the way your ass moved.

You turned around, still in his grasp, reaching onto your tip toes to gain access to his ear. "So are you." You spoke loud enough for him to hear it, taking a hold of one of his hands behind you and pulling it away then walking to find the bathroom, nobody was quite clearly aware of him or you as you passed through the busy space; your intentions now fully in swing now that you were clearly enhanced by the alcohol you'd consumed together, a new found confidence in you was a better way of describing what you were about to do. Joe had an incline when he was pushed straight into the disabled bathroom, the door locked.

"Mm, hey pretty girl." He whispered as he watched you walk up to him, laying your hands on his chest. Your faces dragged up and down to each other like a magnet, your lips merely inches away, both of them parted at the heavy silence, the awaited moment where one of you would close the gap. Joe's mouth crashed onto yours seconds later and you turned him around, pushing him against the door and opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, your tongues fought against one another, spiralling out of control with whimpers echoing in unison. Your hands that still remained close on his chest made their way down, fumbling at the button of his trousers, pushing the zipper down and making sure to inch your fingers in-between the skin of his hips and his boxers, pulling in a downward motion, Joe obliged happily as he wedged his fingers in next to yours and pushed them down to the ground. You broke the kiss looking directly at him, your eyes now sparkling with the eager thoughts that roamed through your head.

"Do you mind if I just?" You looked down, your eyes opening wide at the size you clearly didn't expect, girth intimidating yet the size so perfectly just above average you couldn't wait any longer. You didn't even see Joe shake his head, insinuating he didn't mind at all. You dropped down onto your knees, spitting down onto the palm of your hand, letting the rest leak off of your bottom lip before wrapping your fist around his length, jerking slowly and looking up to watch Joe throw his head back in disbelief. "Fuck." He moaned out loud, your finger tips sliding and stroking around the mushroom tip of his cock. That was quite clearly the most delectable noise you'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing, sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. "That feel good?" You asked rhetorically, knowing the exact answer was the right one.

"Would it be too forward if I asked you to give me head?"

"I don't think anything's too forward now when I already got us into this mess." You muttered in yet another girly tone, the feeling of nausea in your stomach from hearing yourself sound like such a simp, yet you fucking enjoyed being this man's simp.

You wrapped your lips around his head, sucking lightly, earning another throaty groan. His big hands came down to cup your head. "More." He sighed out in a gravelly tone. He pushed you forward, your mouth coming down and taking every inch that you could. "I want to fuck that pretty little mouth so bad." You clenched your hands around his ass giving it a squeeze to indicate that you were into it and without hesitating, he thrusted his hips back and fourth, keeping you in position whilst he did exactly that.

Tears stained the corners of your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat multiple times, your lips sealing around his length and he stilled a little; it was completely obvious that he was close. "Shit." Joe moaned once more, you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth when he let his hands go, raising them up and running his fingers through his curls. "Can I take you back to my hotel room?" Joe blurted out and you almost could of passed for looking slightly confused.

"Hotel room?" You questioned, you knew he didn't live around here so you pretended once again to act like you weren't sure as to why he was occupying a room for the night.

"Yeah, just staying in the area for an event." He was playing you at your own game, his secret identity to him not yet revealed seeing as he still was under the impression you had no idea who he was. To you, he thought this was probably just a one night stand, a way of getting some action from some 'random guy' at a bar.

"How do I know you're not some serial killer?" You winked up at him playfully.

"How do I know you're not some axe murderer?" Joe replied. You laughed at that, tilting your head to the side, same thing but touché.

It wasn't Joe's objective to have met someone in a place he didn't know very well, let alone be taking them back to the hotel he was staying at to have sex, this wasn't at all usually like him, but he was so bizarrely comfortable around you after the few hours you'd spent together it was pretty much impossible for him to be able to talk himself out of the situation.

You stood up, knees aching from the hard ceramic tiling of the bathroom floor, Joe's hand tilted your chin upward to him as he leaned downward to give you the sweetest kiss of your life, a full firework display erupting in your head, your head was spinning and not just from the alcohol. Not too much but not too little, he swiftly moved away to pull his trousers back up, palming his hand over his tight erection to make it less painful and took a hold of your hand this time, leading you out of the bathroom and out of the bar.

Unnoticed ad unbothered by anyone else, you were unsure how that happened, maybe it was the way you noticed Joe kept his head down not making a scene and not breathing a look back at you until you'd exited outside. You walked the short distance back to the hotel, talking the way you were practically an hour ago, linking your arm through his to keep the warmth of his body close against you.

Joe caged you in the elevator against the mirror once the double doors closed together, kissing you more fiercely than intimately this time, his teeth bit down onto your bottom lip, he kneeled slightly to allow his hips to buck up into your heat, hearty moans could be heard bouncing off the tight four walls, the hardness of his erection had not faltered at all, he wanted nothing but to fuck you right then and there but he had to remain as patient and well behaved as he could until the moment you'd got into his room, it wasn't an easy task.

You hurried down the corridor when the doors opened, Joe dragging you behind him, his fingers intertwined with yours. Stopping at the door, Joe plucked his key card from his trouser pocket and scanned it, pushing down the door handle and flicking the light on, you look around you to see a rather fancy and spacious hotel room, the biggest bed you had ever seen and a view like no other. You rushed to the window whilst Joe made sure the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung from the other side and the door was locked. He slowly stride's up to you, his hands on your hips most delicately as he moves his head down to plant soft kisses on your neck, your head falls to the side, leaning into him slightly, you eye up the beautifulness of the city whilst he makes work of your neck, his teeth nibbling down and lips sucking at a sweet spot cause your breathing to hitch. "Do that again." You didn't have to ask twice, Joe swapped to the other side in an instant, biting his teeth lightly into the mirrored spot and marked you the way he intended, moving back and admiring his work, he hummed.

"Nice little bruises you have there." You stared at your reflection in the window, taking a closer inspection.

"The work of a true artist." You both huffed a filthy laugh as he guided your hips to move around to him, lifting you slightly until you got the message, you were now in his arms with your legs firmly wrapped around his waist. Your hands placed on his biceps, you felt his muscles flex as held you tightly and you could have salivated at that easy, but you held it back so you didn't clearly embarrass yourself.

He moved you over to the bed, flopping you onto it and you'd secretly wished he'd of kept you in that position longer, it felt so good, slightly moving in a way to be that close to him. Crawling over and holding himself up against you, his lips fell to yours again, peppering kisses all over your face until he had you giggling. "That giggle is so sexy yet so cute, fucking hell." You bit down onto your lip, a little smirk lingering, proud that you had him right where you wanted him.

"Shall we get down to business, my cock's fucking throbbing." You nodded not even fully before Joe pushed himself up. You both undressed yourselves, eyes not falling off one another, both hearts racing at the mere thought of this crazy, eventful and very admittedly funfilled evening.

Joe eyed your cunt as your legs spread apart and his mouth fell open, jaw could have almost been mistaken of falling to the floor the way he stared at you. "You're fucking soaking." Joe growled.

"All for you. That's what you get for letting me give you half a blowjob." Joe chuckled deeply.

"Screw foreplay, I just want to fuck that pretty pussy right now." Joe grabbed at your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, lined himself up, his cock leaking that very moment just from the sight of you. His choice of words had your hole gaping.

You didn't even get the time to ask if he had protection. Joe plunged his cock straight inside of you, hissing at the way you ate him up, your slick gave him an easy entrance, pushing each inch of his length deep inside, his tip ramming its way through your walls, stretching you out and getting you used to his size. You didn't complain, you were on contraception anyway and it's not like he was patient enough to talk about it either. "Oh my god Y/N, you're so tight."

You couldn't muster a reply, your eyes squeezing shut at the twinges of pain and pleasure mixing together. "How do you like it? I want to make you feel so good."

You still couldn't speak, you stuttered random noises out of your mouth, your heart beating out of your chest, your mind was going ten to the dozen, more or less from the scepticism of having Joe's thick cock wedged inside of your cunt.

"You alright-" He grew concern quickly before you interrupted him.

Your eyes shot open, you looked downward to see his hips touching the inside of your thighs. "Hard. Fuck. Me. Hard." Joe was coerced to give you exactly what you wanted, the worried look drained away and his eyes deviously smiling right at you. He thrusted his hips into you, not even starting slowly, giving you everything he could. Dragging your legs upward to rest on his shoulders, he lent down his hand and pressed his thumb up onto your clit, rubbing harsh circles against it, the pad of it felt delicious, the ache rising higher whilst he continued to pound into your cunt forcefully. The unholy noises matching your awaited climaxes caused you both to sweat irrationally, the smell of sex apparent in the air, his thumb still tackling your twitching bud, hitting the spot just to the side where you liked it most. It's like he'd discovered your body long before tonight. Yet the more you moaned through his actions, the more he knew where to go with it.

"Shit Joe, oh my god."

"Yeah baby, you like it when I fuck you like this?"

"Y-yes I-" You came undone, your hips lifting wildly into the air as you gushed over his shaft, cotton wool enrapturing your head at the way your soul shot out from you. You were just a body laid down on a bed whilst you watched yourself from above being positively railed through and through. Joe couldn't help the sight of you cumming and the way your walls clenched around him in the most perfect way. It had him pulling out and fucking himself with his fist over your cunt, his cock exploding with hot seed up onto your stomach, his head threw back as he almost screamed your name in the violent orgasm that was at it's pinochle. You came down together from your highs, breathing erratic from the reoccurring sensitivity that was still blowing both of your minds out of your skulls. Joe fell next to you, staring up to the ceiling just to get himself back to a normal state before he even tried to speak a word that would make sense.

Before long, he moved to get up and go into the bathroom, cleaning himself up and bringing the spare towel through to wipe up the mess he'd created on your body. "Wow." You swallowed thickly, trying to taste the saliva in your mouth that was drying up quickly. "Yeah, wow." You'd fucked yourselves sober, not that it became anymore awkward when Joe asked if you were staying or if he needed to walk you back to your home so he knew at least you'd gotten back safely. It was after midnight after all and although he still didn't know you too well, he still cared. That was just the way Joe worked.

You agreed to stay with him and climbed into bed with one another after you'd got up and fixed yourself a glass of water. Joe offered for you to sleep in his shirt just so you were a little more comfortable but you declined politely suggesting he'd already seen you naked and defiled you, so it didn't particular matter that you were going to go to sleep in the nude with him.

Joe creeped over to you when you laid on your side after dimming the lights down to settle and relax. "Can I see you again?"

You whipped your body onto your back, looking at him longingly. "So this isn't just a one night thing?" You held your smile back, truly delighted by his question.

"Honestly? I'm not a 'one night thing' kinda guy. Though if I feel a connection with someone, which isn't often - I'll run with it." Your smile heaving over your features quickly, truly delighted by his reply.

"Then we will see each other again." You moved closer, pecking a kiss onto his cheek, he almost looked serious for a second.

"There's something you should know though." He interrupted your happy and most victorious moment in your head when your smile fell through, your lips dwindling together wondering what he was next going to come out with.

"What?" You said.

"I'm kinda reserved in this field because I... I'm newly, erm. Famous I guess." He didn't know how else to put it, he just let the sentence roll off his tongue and wasn't quite sure how you'd take it either, but you know exactly how you were taking it. You already fucking knew.

"And that means we can't-"

"We can, oh we can, I'm just nervous and new to the world that is fame. I'm an actor, I made it big this year - well clearly not big enough for you to not know, but in the most non cockiest way possible, a hell of a lot of people know who I am and the event I'm here for is partly to do with me and I don't want to scare you away because it's a big deal and all. If seeing me again might jeopardise your privacy I completely understand but I just want you to know that-"

"I know who you are." You shouted out over the top of his voice, you couldn't hide it anymore. Joe moved backward, his brows furrowing in confusion, the act you've kept up all night purely a farce.

"Wait what? Was this a ploy? What do you mean? Y-you've known a-all this time and not said a word?" His questioning and quite frankly anxious demeanour began to rapidly pour out at a wicked pace.

"Honestly. I did it because I wasn't bothered about who you are in the outside world, I saw you alone and I'd just left my friend and I wanted to take the chance to get to know you and I did and it lead us here and even though what happened, happened, I enjoyed it not because it was Joseph Quinn but because I'm insanely attracted to the guy who made me laugh, the guy who looked at me so nicely. The guy that bought me fucking tequila and made me actually like martinis. I only wanted to say hello and have a drink with you if I could but it went far better than I could've imagined." You poured out your heart, maybe your intentions didn't intend to go this far, but you were right; it happened and you couldn't go back on it.

"You don't like martinis?" Was all he gathered from that.

"Correction, didn't." He laughed a little from the back of his throat, nodding as the rest of your words hit his memory. It instantly made him feel better that you already understood the situation that if you did see each other again and maybe more after that, it wouldn't be as normal anymore.

"You don't hate me?" You bit down on your lip apprehensively.

"No, I don't hate you. I wish you'd of told me sooner that you knew, but the way you wanted to treat me normally makes me so fucking happy. You're beautiful and quite entirely made my night and I really want to get to know you better, maybe starting a little more sober too."

He moved his arm over your stomach and towered above your face, bringing his lips down to kiss you passionately, short yet sweetly.

"So when can I see you again?"

"In the morning when we wake up." You giggled.

"I'll never grow tired of hearing that." He beamed a toothy grin at you, his eyes darting from yours to your lips. Was this the feeling of love at first sight you'd read in fairy tales? The look of pure emotion and desire? Happiness overflooded you both. Contentment hit.

Turning the lights out, he moved you around and spooned you from behind, smiling at himself, feeling almost lucky to have you there with him. He'd never been so glad that he decided to make that trip to the bar, he cured his boredom hugely. He found you.

#my asks #joseph quinn imagine #joe quinn imagine #joseph quinn blurb #joe quinn blurb #joe quinn fanfic #joequinn #josephquinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #joesph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x female reader #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn x you #joe quinn smut #joe quinn fluff #joe quinn angst #joseph quinn headcanons #joe quinn request #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn fan fiction

[over--and-out]

To Keep You Safe

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Summary: After being physically bullied, Eddie finds you hiding. He decides to take care of you before taking care of your abusers, but his methods of care, you notice, tend to be rather sweet.

Warnings: Spoilers for season 4 but not really, physical assault, bullying, mentions of vomit, blood, homophobic behavior, mention of homophobic slurs, Chrissy bullies you and Eddie so she doesn't get bullied, Eddie gets physically aggressive, this wasn't proofread so plz don't expect perfect grammar, if I missed a warning please comment it below politely

This was written at 4:30 in the morning while I was half asleep, please don't be mean about my writing-

You could feel it in your chest, that ache that only grew until it swallowed every breath you took. You could taste bile and blood in the back of your throat and you couldn't tell if it was blood or tears covering your face.

Hiding in the janitor's closet was not the most ideal way to spend your science period, but Mr. Willow took one look at you and decided to dismiss your absence.

This wasn't the first time you've been discriminated against, and it almost certainly wouldn't be the last.

Sniffling and wiping your face, you only succeeded in smearing whatever was on your face and not wiping it off.

You couldn't help but flinch when you heard the crack of the doorknob turning, your gaze snapping up only to meet the concerned gaze of the one and only Eddie Munson. Immediately, he was at your side, his hands hovering over your body before speaking gently. "Where does it hurt?" As if it was second nature, your fingers drifted up to prod at the side of your nose, a small hiss escaping you and tears brimming in your eyes at the pain that blossomed there. He nodded and with his index finger to your jaw, he turns your head and looks over your nose. "Yup. You're definitely going to die. Such a shame."

Your brows furrowed, confusion blooming all throughout your being. He sighs and shakes his head, taking your hand and with a dramatic wail, he throws his head back.

"OH, how I'll miss you! I'll avenge you, I swear of it! Justice will come to your name-" "Eddie.." Your voice broke as you uttered his name, slowly drawing his attention before he flashes you that signature smile of his. You continued. "W-What are you doing?" He shrugs, ghosting his knuckles over your cheek in a fond way before resting his hand on your shoulder.

"Oh, y'know. I have to declare your condition, since of course I'm legally a doctor." His sarcasm was so obvious that it almost made him look silly, but you could tell what he was doing. "Yep, that's a grade A boo-boo. I declare a kiss to make it better." A small smile escapes you, his voice managing to calm your nerves. He was always able to manage that, calming you down.

"Yeah, but seriously, I need to get you to the nurse. Do you want it straight up or do you want to wait to go to the nurse?" His tone was a bit more serious now, but it was still lighthearted. A small whine escaped you; you didn't want to even think about the damage that Jason had done.

"L-Later," you mumbled. Eddie nodded, gently winding his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. One of his hands drifted to your head, his fingers threading through your hair as the other hand rested on the small of your back.

You tensed up a bit at the action, your nerves still on edge from the encounter you'd had.

But you knew Eddie would never hurt you. That was something you knew for certain.

He was a rather intense person for people who didn't know him, but it's almost surprising how much he settles down for people he cares about. Especially you, his boyfriend for a running three years now, going on four. He cared very deeply for you, and you could see the genuine love he had for you every time he simply looked at you.

Your presence brought a smile to his face, the genuine and authentic one that could light up a room. He would often get bullied for his smile, called creepy, but nobody quite understood the authenticity like you did.

His gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts, lips coming to press a kiss to your temple before he pulled away from the hug but keeping his arms around you. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, the strands sticking to the blood dried there. His presence comforted you enough to loosen up; he was somebody you trusted with your being.

"I-It was Jason. He just..." You paused, making Eddie tilt his head and brush his thumb across your cheek. "Come back to me, sweetheart," he softly spoke. You nodded and held one of his hands with both of your own, a way to ground yourself.

"Jason started calling me sick. Saying I had a disease and laughing about it. I... I hated it, but I stayed quiet. Then he started calling me a..." You shook your head, not even wanting to utter the word. You could see the understanding on Eddie's face. You knew he wouldn't force you to say it, or even be upset if you did. You noticed rather quickly that Eddie didn't care what you said, as long as you were genuine about your phrases.

"It bothered me, but again, I could ignore it. I was just waiting for you. Then Jason brought you up..." Eddie's brows furrowed and he scooched forward a bit, his knees touching yours. "Chrissy even said that she agreed, that you were a freak and that it was obvious you had to be a 'flamer.'" A sigh escaped you and you found yourself leaning into Eddie's space, your head subconsciously resting on your boyfriend's shoulder. He brings his hand up to run it up and down your back, once again kissing your temple.

"I told him to stop... That he could talk about me all day but to leave you out of it..."

"Sweetheart, you know I can handle myself."

"But I hate hearing it. You don't deserve it at all. All I told Jason was to leave you alone, and he decided to shove me into a locker." You whined, your grip tightening on him. "He grabbed my hair and... Bashed my face into the locker." You could feel Eddie tense up at the mention, leaning back and running his thumb over your cheek as he looked over your face again. A deep sigh left his chest and you could almost feel the anger radiate off of him. Eddie had always been laid back and overall a very chill person, but he was also protective too. It took a lot to piss him off, but touching you was something that would do it instantly.

He decided to push his anger down. That could wait, what was more important to him was you sitting there hurt and traumatized.

He sighs softly, pulling you into another hug and you didn't hesitate to cling to him as tight as you could.

"I love you, but please don't do that again. If he's a dick, ignore him. And if he tries to piss you off, find a teacher or me, or somebody."

"Eddie..." Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper as your fingers fisted into the leather of his jacket.

"I'll handle it, sweetheart. Don't try to worry yourself, let's just get you patched up."

He pulled away and took your hand, helping you stand before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently steering you to the nurse's office. He was cracking small jokes the entire way there, stopping and pulling away from you for a moment so he could dramatically trip over a gym bag that was thrown in the hallway next to an empty desk. When you reached the nurse's office, you held his hand and kept your attention on him as he tried his best to be helpful. Unfortunately the nurse found him annoying and sent him back to his class period. He refused at first, but the nurse had the gall to threaten to suspend you for 'provoking a fight.' Aggravated and feeling defeated, Eddie gave you his leather and denim jacket for comfort before obliging to her commands.

Or that's what he said he would do.

"Hey, Clydesdale!" Eddie's voice rang out throughout the cafeteria as he made quick strides to the athlete's table. Jason looked up, obviously offended at the name before he scoffed. "Got something to say, dip?" He shook his head, as if Eddie wouldn't do anything.

"I'll do more than fucking say something, you damn mung." Jason was quick to stand up when he heard the aggression in Eddie's voice, deciding to harshly shove Eddie backwards. "Yeah? The fuck are you gonna do, freak?" Eddie didn't even give a response before his fist clashed with Jason's face, sending the athlete to the ground and causing a collective gasp from the crowd that began to gather. Eddie shook his hand a bit, the force of the punch causing a small cramp in his hand. An added bonus to those beautiful rings you loved so much, they gave punches that added kick.

Leaning down and grabbing a fist full of blonde hair, Eddie leaned down and his voice hissed through his teeth with the click of his tongue. "That was just my warning. You lay a hand on him again, and you know what you did, I'll do more than give you a little kitten lick. Y'know, since all I'm known as is being a monstrosity." He shoved Jason's face to the floor, wiping his hands off on his dark jeans.

"Eddie!" Your sweet voice immediately brought a smile to his face as he wrapped you in a hug. You were now in your last period, which you don't share with him, but Eddie wouldn't let that stop him.

"Hey, how are you feeling sweetheart? You're not dead yet, I see." You smiled softly at his words and buried your face into his chest. He gently poked at the bandage on your nose, tilting his head with furrowed brows.

"She had to relocate my noss, and that hurt like a bitch, but it stopped bleeding and I'm all cleaned up now. Jason won't even look at me now so that's a good thing." Eddie smirked and stepped back so that he could give you a dramatic bow.

"Thanks to yours truly." His voice had that lilt to it that it normally did when he was pleased with himself and you could only give a small laugh. You were almost shocked that he had done something bad enough to scare Jason away, but Eddie was Eddie. He left Jason alone until he had to step in.

"You're ridiculous, Eds."

"But you love me~"

"Indeed I do." At your words, Eddie smirks and leans down to steal a kiss. You could tell that he was wound up with the way he chased your lips when you pulled away, but the bell rang and Ms. Barkley had threatened to hit him with an English textbook.

The beginning of last period was something that left you feeling better about the day, getting your affection in with Eddie before watching him yelp while he attempted to dodge Ms. Barkley and the wrath of her English book.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things eddie #fanfic #eddie munson x male reader #eddie plz marry me #eddie is hot #eddie stranger things #eddie deserves better #chrissy bullies you and him #eddie munson is gay #mlm #gay

[intrepidacious]

every dream gone

summary: After the events of Winter Soldier, Bucky slowly realizes just how much he lost after his fall.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: bucky being sad; vague mentions of brainwashing and a whole lot of guilt; don't look for a happy ending with this one folks (i'm sorry 🥲)

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i started writing this fic back in september and it took me until now to gather the emotional willpower to finish it. blame this song that inspired the whole thing.

masterlist | read on ao3

It took Bucky a while to remember you, after everything, but he did.

The first memory came back while he was on the run. He'd been in Europe for a while by then, sleeping in freight cars, never staying anywhere for longer than a week, trying to keep a low profile while both HYDRA and Steve were still frantically looking for him everywhere. Those early days were the worst.

He spent most of his time on trains and tried to figure out why he hated it so much.

Being in England calmed him a bit. It was nice getting used to hearing people speak English around him again, and not in a tone that commanded obedience.

He didn't have much to go off, just scattered memories that didn't quite seem to fit together. There was always something off about them, something like the taste of metal where it shouldn't be. This time, the fragments led him to a flea market.

There were only a handful of people dotted in between the stands, which was probably for the best. His long sleeves usually attracted some curious glances this late into July.

He didn't exactly have money to spare for knick-knacks or secondhand souvenirs, but his feet carried him straight to one stand in particular, without him even realizing. His fingertips grazed along the spines of old paperbacks that were lined up like soldiers, but Bucky didn't spare them more than a glance.

He stopped at the next table over, a small frown on his face.

"Look at all those colors, Buck!"

Pastels and acrylics, steel nib fountain pens and piles of hand-bound sketchbooks. The woman selling them looked up from her novel when he didn't move for a whole minute, his eyes fixed on the notebooks.

"You can pick 'em up if you can't decide, you know," she said.

He nodded, blinked, almost embarrassed at the way his fingers shook as he picked up one of the books. It was bound in blue linen, and the deckle edged pages stuck to his gloves.

"You draw?" the woman asked, in a way that was more politeness than actual interest.

"My friend did," Bucky found himself saying.

Hands covered in charcoal. The smell of paper and something else.

"How dare you!" A laugh, carelessly loud and graceless. The most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "My nose looks nothing like that!"

The memory passed through him softly, almost dreamlike, and for a second, he didn't know whether he wanted to cry or scream. He did neither.

The woman was looking at him strangely, but she accepted the note he handed her for the sketchbook, even though it wasn't Sterling.

"Young man," she called after him, and he almost wanted to laugh. "You're gonna need this, too." And she handed him a pen, as if she'd known, as if there was something in his face that told her how lost he felt.

It was cheap, surely, but it was also the first gift he'd gotten in decades, and so he kept it in his chest pocket. Right above his heart.

***

The next memory came not too long after that.

He was sitting in a rundown coffee shop in Edinburgh, barely paying attention to the room around him while he tried putting his past onto the page. The book was filling so achingly slowly it made him want to throw it against a wall most days.

A good chunk of it was about Steve.

Bucky supposed that was to be expected, because he'd been the one to first make him remember, and because it was Steve.

So page after page was detailing pneumonias and ill-fitting jackets and bruised knuckles in Bucky's narrow writing, trying to piece together a life that should have stayed his. It was desperate work, futile work most days, but he tried anyway.

And then the café owner switched stations on the old, dusty radio in the corner, and there was the song.

It took only a couple of notes until the images struck like lightning.

Swinging skirts and heels clacking on wooden floors. The smell of sweat and hairspray and something else. Something like May bells.

"You're quite good at this, aren't you?" Hands tightening around his neck in the most pleasant embrace.

"Only as good as my partner."

How could a simple hum sound so content? "And I ain't exactly called Rogers, either. But you’re the one leading."

"And thank God for both."

A dip, a scream. And that laugh again. He wanted to bottle it up and get drunk on it for the rest of eternity.

When the song ended, Bucky was shaking with it. He'd broken the pen in his hand, and the dark ink smeared all over his palm like black blood.

He didn’t do so well with presents these days.

***

He remembered your name when he heard a mother call out for her child in a park and it stopped him in his tracks because the corners of his mouth started to lift on their own accord. It was like you were muscle memory, your name so deeply ingrained that his body remembered you long before his mind could catch up.

And your name.

Whispered in darkened picture theaters until your skin prickled with goosebumps, shouted across dance halls sweltering with heat, spoken with reverence on dizzying fair rides. Bucky’d said it again, and again, and again, and for so long he couldn’t think of anything sweeter than the taste of it on his tongue.

He tried it out now, and it came out like ash.

The sound of his name on your lips came to him only hours later, because he kept prodding at that part of his mind that kept you hidden from him, kept trying to unlock the gate to his forgotten memories until finally it slid open an inch.

He was trying to make dinner.

He’d not had a warm meal for weeks at that point, but the past few days had been good and he’d bought vanilla extract for pancakes. The sugary smell filled his tiny apartment, but he didn’t even notice at first, not until he opened the window and then turned back to the stove.

“Bucky.”

Like a breath of air that echoed from deep within until it reached him and left him shaken.

He said your name again, called it into the silence of the room. It didn’t answer him.

He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than going crazy, and so he breathed in again.

“James! It’s almost nine, we’re gonna be late.” Nails drumming against the wood of a dresser. You’d painted it with flowers, purple and blue and yellow. Beautiful.

“And whose fault is that, sweetheart?”

His fingers wrapping around your waist, pulling you close, so young, so human. Your perfume, soft and lingering mist-like between you, and something else. Something like Christmas morning.

Smiles had come so easy to him back then. “I’ve been sittin’ by the door for a good twenty minutes now, waitin’ anxiously for you to finish up.”

“If you’re getting so anxious over me, you needn’t have waited, Buck.”

“I’d wait my whole life if it went you’re comin’ down the stairs, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t noticed he’d slid to the floor, trembling.

The pancakes burned.

***

Your name was so much and yet so little at the same time.

Bucky tried finding any record of you, in libraries, newspaper archives, even using a computer once he figured out how to go online. But you’d been a normal girl, a lovely, perfect, beautiful, normal girl. That had never been enough for the history books.

He had to put you together again himself, slowly. The smallest details took him months.

You would always get holes in your tights and scold him for prodding at them. You used to hate getting your picture taken, but you would benignly let Steve draw you as long as he kept you entertained. You’d liked dancing, and flowers, and sweet things, and somehow, inexplicably, you’d liked him.

“You are the worst date I’ve ever had.”

The taste of whipped cream and chocolate on your lips, and the feeling of your fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck. That little sound at the back of your throat.

“You were saying, sweetheart?”

Bucky’s hand balled into a fist. It wasn’t fair.

The worst part was that you were barely more than the memory of a beautiful dream, hazy and blurred. He was well aware he didn’t deserve good things anymore, but these faint half-images collecting in his brain were nothing short of cruel.

"I can't remember her face,” he told the only person who might have understood, because he himself didn’t. “Why can I remember every single person that I had to ...” He trailed off, dragging his hand over his face. “And yet I can't remember her face?"

Steve's hand was on his shoulder, a gesture that should feel comforting in its familiarity. Instead, Bucky had never felt this small in his own skin.

Wrong shoulder.

"I'll see what I can do," Steve said calmly, but there was a helplessness in his voice that made Bucky’s stomach churn.

It wasn’t supposed to spill out of his own eyes.

***

You would have loved Wakandan sunsets.

They were richer, more colorful than the ones Bucky remembered, but maybe that didn’t actually mean much. The beautiful things had a habit of evading him.

Sometimes, he was selfish enough to wish it had stayed that way, because at least in forgetting, he hadn’t known to miss anything at all. Years and decades worth of lack came crashing through to drown him now, more and more frequent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time. Or mocking him.

But you would have loved the sunsets, and so he tried to love them, too, just like he was always meant to do.

“Do you have to leave already?”

A sniff, a petulant sigh, his limbs heavy and warm, but resolve unwavering. He’d fancied himself so smart, then. “You know I do.”

Daybreak kisses that tasted contently like sleep. Slowly untangling his fingers from yours, something cool grazing them.

Steve brought back a small package, and that was all that was left to find of the part of the past that he’d shared with you. A thin stack of official papers, the dog tags he’d worn in Austria, and a ring.

Bucky sat down.

He knew, rationally, that you were long gone even before he saw the official documents. He’d never expected you to wait for him when it had always been the other way around. Still, to read it so plainly was like his insides were being twisted into the tightest knot, and his heart, his carefully guarded heart that had only just started to remember its own rhythm stuttered painfully. Like it was sick of this whole dance, the waiting, the longing for something so out of reach. So lost to time.

He didn’t want this, any of this, but there was nothing he could do but stare and wait for his vision to clear.

“There’s something else,” Steve said, his voice far away like he’d been wrapped in cotton. “Do you remember the house?”

A rickety porch swing and a picket fence that needed bleaching. Thorny rose bushes blooming in all your favorite colors. Two spare rooms.

“Are we going to be hostin’ a lot of guests, then?” That smug little curl of your lip he liked to kiss.

“I hope not.” Arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. Always the same gesture, as familiar as the smell. Vanilla and peonies, and something else. “We could find a more permanent use, don’t you think?”

“She kept it. It’s still there.”

Bucky traced the letters of your name with his thumb as if somehow, somewhere, you might have felt the familiar caress. It looked lonely there, all on its own.

Maybe it was lucky that he’d long run out of screams, because he might have never stopped.

“Thank you,” he said, and even though it didn’t seem sufficient, Steve nodded.

Bucky threaded your ring onto the chain of his dog tags and closed it around his neck before he hid them under his vest, the metal like a ghostly touch over his heart.

***

It took Bucky five more years to make it back to New York. Well. Five more years passed.

He’d lost so many of them it didn’t even seem to matter at this point.

The slip of paper had been kept inside an envelope he’d found between the books in Steve’s apartment, waiting for him, just like he’d said it would. At least some things were still there.

The bus drive took an eternity, but his feet found their way on their own accord. They’d known it well, once, after all.

He thought the hardest part would be to turn around the final corner and see it again, but that wasn’t it. He’d dreaded the drawn shades, the overgrown garden, the withered flowers, the faded paint on the front door. Dreading things made them easier to bare, sometimes, he’d learned that.

No, the hardest part was seeing the sign. Cottage for sale.

And the quiet.

The mailbox was battered from decades of wind and weather, but underneath the rust he could still see the remnants of your handprint, cracked golden yellow on the dark metal. It disappeared under his vibranium fingers.

“See? We left our mark now. We have to stay here forever.”

He found the key still inside. He used to scold you for leaving it so recklessly, but you kept losing every spare you got made, and besides, times were different, then. You knew the neighbors. So did he.

“Don’t forget, it’s Mrs Hopper’s birthday on Wednesday, and you promised to mow her lawn.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“And the Sawyers asked if you could take a look at their furnace, because it’s been acting up.”

“You’d think they’d hire a professional for that sorta thing.”

“Maybe you’re just nicer to look at.”

The plot next door had been leveled. The curtains in all the other houses were drawn, even though it was a lovely spring evening.

Bucky’s steps were heavy as he climbed the steps to the red front door. It was like he could hear whispers coming from all sides, his head pounding with the weight of something that was not quite there yet, not quite clear, not quite something.

The key slid into the lock.

“Leave your shoes outside, Buck, you’ll track mud everywhere.”

He almost did.

The first step inside was like going through the looking glass and finding himself in a world so different, and yet so familiar. Because he didn’t recognize the painting on the wall, or the color of the cabinets, or the rug next to the stairs.

But there was that smell. Vanilla and peonies. Something like baking and spring, something like home.

He carefully pulled the door closed behind him, the floorboards softly creaking. Dust billowed.

And then more memories came rushing in, as if they'd been waiting for the moment he crossed the threshold.

"Ready?"

"Yes!" He could feel your cheeks lift in a smile and grinned as he slowly pulled his hands away from your eyes. Could feel the gasp that fell from your lips as you took in the sight in front of you.

"Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding me? I love it!"

“I love you.”

He thought he saw movement just out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned, it was only his own grave reflection staring back at him out of one of the dirty windows. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like the ghosts of the past were surrounding him.

“There you are,” they seemed to say. “What took you so long?”

“Just picking up something sweet for my best girl.”

“This is exactly why I’m gonna marry you.”

“Just that? Really? What about my other qualities?”

“Those I tolerate.”

The plates his ma had given you, the porcellain chipped with decades of use, stacked neatly in the cabinets, gathering dust. Your favorite brass pot was out next to the sink, as if you’d just left it there to dry, intending to use it again in a couple of hours.

In the living room, the horrible curtains your aunt had forced upon you had finally disappeared, and despite everything, Bucky could feel himself smile. The bookshelf was still overflowing.

“We’re gonna run out of space soon, you know that, right?”

“Well, build me a new shelf, then!”

Another promise he’d broken.

He had to go upstairs. He knew it, even though every single cell of his body was screaming at him not to go.

Seventeen steps. The second to last was the one that creaked.

Deciding which door to open first was like choosing his own hell. In the end, the house decided for him, because the wailing behind the one to the far right sounded so alive he almost bolted through the entrance.

It had been locked, and Bucky only realized why when it was already too late.

It was the most desolate room yet, cobwebbed and stale, furniture hidden underneath white linens. A dusty wooden mobile dangled from the ceiling, trembling as the house settled, casting eery shadows over the dirtied green walls.

“Aren’t you a bit overzealous there, love?” He dotted some green on your nose and you shrieked.

“Do you wanna be caught unawares?”

“As far as I know, there’s a bit of a preparation period involved.”

“Hm. Maybe we should just get a head start, then.”

He couldn’t bear it a second time, so he took a lung full of stale air and opened the bedroom door.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Everything smelled like you, had your loving touch on it, had been allowed to live alongside you for all this time when he hadn’t been. The wilted flowers in the vase by the window. A book on the nightstand, your bookmark tucked between the pages because you weren’t quite done with it yet.

You weren’t done yet.

A pair of reading glasses lay on top of it, and Bucky almost laughed because he couldn’t quite picture you wearing them, and then, suddenly, he realized he could picture you, and his hand reached out blindly because he remembered that it was there.

“You know I hate these things.”

He didn’t let go of your hand for a second. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you want me to have something’a yours to keep me company?”

Your laugh, again, and again. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

The bed creaked softly when he sat down on its edge, the frame shaking in his grip, and hey. There you were.

There was your smile.

It seemed to echo, or maybe he only wished it did.

“I’ll be back so soon, you won’t even notice I’m gone, sweetheart.”

“You better.”

The way you looked at him. Like you really believed him when he told the both of you that everything was going to be fine. That you would be the lucky ones. The exception.

He hated himself for letting you hope, but maybe this was his punishment; to be the one left behind, despite everything.

“I’m sorry,” he must have said, or cried, or screamed, because the house repeated it back to him, over and over.

“I’m sorry.”

And then, there was nothing.

anyone else need a tissue?

thank you so much for reading!! if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or a reblog, or just come scream at me in my inbox. to see the less heartbreaking rest of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #every dream gone

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

About that selfship au where the f/o has you as an f/o:

Vanilla loved to read comics/manga in secret. He found this one comedy manga that genuinely made him laugh. I was his favorite side character:

(more info under the cut)

The manga is called, "Normal Guys!" and it's about a group of average young adults getting into hilarious situations. It takes place in a universe where stands don't exist. The main character just wants to live a normal life, but his friends want action and excitement. Tippy is one of those friends. He is usually pushed aside, the butt of the joke, made fun of for his appearance (large nose, big front teeth, short, and skinny), excluded from the group (the one taking the picture, getting picked last or not at all, the characters straight up being mean to him and leaving him out), and always on the receiving end of slapstick comedy and physical injuries.

Vanilla started off with having a soft spot for Tippy, but soon it evolved into a crush. Even though Tippy is a joke character and even his own creator doesn't like him very much, Vanilla latched onto him like a baby duckling. He thought to himself, "Well, if nobody likes him... I will like him."

Vanilla actually started drawing because Tippy is an artist in the manga, but he gets made fun of for it. He'll daydream about being part of the Normal Guys! crew and standing up for Tippy when the other characters are mean to him. During his daily chores and tasks Dio has him do, he will daydream about Tippy being there with him and helping him out.

Vanilla will even watch TV, read magazines, newspapers or anything that has the creator's interviews in it to try and learn more about Tippy. But the creator just says that Tippy is supposed to be a joke character and there's nothing more to him. In fact, the creator rolls their eyes and gets annoyed when talking about Tippy. They can't stomach drawing him... so Vanilla decides to make some things up!

One day, Vanilla even decides to make a self insert for Normal Guys! and sees himself as the one person who will stand up for Tippy. Normal Guys! actually helped Vanilla through rough times in his life and selfshipping with Tippy helps him have a little bit of hope too.

BUT, here's the thing: Vanilla is ashamed of this. Nobody knows about the manga, nobody knows about the plushy, nobody knows about the figurines, nobody knows about his fanfics, nobody knows about his self insert, nobody knows a damn thing. Sometimes he'll talk to his Tippy plushy about his day, kiss it gently, and snuggle with it.

One day, Vanilla gets word that a Normal Guys! anime is coming out on VHS soon, and he is so excited to see his fictional other animated that his heart races out of his chest. He works extra hard so he can afford a TV in his room along with a VHS player. Nobody knows what Vanilla is doing, so he goes out to casually buy VHSes, making sure nobody he knows sees him buying them. The cashier makes small talk with him and says that they always loved the manga. They ask him who his favorite character is. Vanilla, even though he knows Tippy is not well liked by the Normal Guys! community, tells them that his favorite character is Tippy. They take it well and say, "Yeah, he's pretty underrated honestly. He gets a bad rap."

After Vanilla locks his bedroom door and sets everything up, he watches the Normal Guys! anime all night. It is heavily hinted that Vanilla's headcanon might be correct. Tippy is a transgender man. Being queer himself, Vanilla begins to have feelings for Tippy even more. He writes a small (VERY cheesy) fanfic in his journal about Tippy coming out to Vanilla about being trans. Then Vanilla (with his long hair flowing dramatically through the wind) takes Tippy by the waist and whispers, "I am a homosexual...I know how you feel. I love you to the moon and back, my darling. I see you as a man. The most handsome man in the entire world."

To him, his writing is so romantic and beautiful, but if other people read it, they would have no idea he was being genuine... or they would make fun of him for how genuine he is. But his own writing brings him to tears, imagining how happy Tippy would be to finally be accepted. Which is also something Vanilla really wanted.

So yeah, that's the oppositeverse au thingamajig pffff-

#tipvans #selfship au #vanilla my sweet #tipvans oppositeverse au!

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Personality :p

Ello! My name is Gillian I am requesting a ship for supernatural

* i'm the type of person that people regard as being very well adjusted but honestly i'm having a mental breakdown most of the time.

* i'm a deeply empathetic person, i care a lot about others and sometimes i forget to care for myself because of it.

* on the flip side of my sensitive/kind nature, i can be very feisty. I’m also DEEPLY sarcastic when i'm frustrated i just want to beat up something, and i become very passionate towards injustice. my friends say i'm like a kitten with a knife.

* additionally, i would consider myself a brave person. I don't struggle to have hard conversations with people (i don't like them but I'll do it),and I've stood up to every bully I've ever had

* due to my trust issues and rejections, i tend to feel like an outsider in most of my friend groups.

* TO FINISH IT OFF (this has become too long), i would consider myself a wise/intelligent person (i give good advice), resilient, but also easy going.

1. INFJ | Pisces sun, cancer moon, libra rising, pisces Venus | Ravenclaw | Neutral good

2. Things I love in myself: I love that I’m good at giving advice, that I can skip many of my classes and still stay on the dean’s list, and that I’m bold when I need to be

3. In a partner, I look for someone who will support and listen to me. I have a lot of different mental ailments, and if they won’t be understanding of that, then I can’t be with them. I also look for someone who is self sufficient (I can’t deal with laziness). Most importantly, they should be kind (i.e. If I’m ranting about things like sexism in a tv show, I want them to be able to understand why it’s important to me.)

4. I’m straight, unfortunately.

5. She/her

6. I’m the singer/guitarist in a rock band so music is very very important to me. I also love to draw and I read pretty much all the time. My ideal day is going to a coffee shop and then a bookstore. Which reminds me— I drink an obscene amount of coffee. I also take too many naps, especially with my cat, who is my baby. I like to write as well. I really love things that make my house look like a fairy’s home, so I like to collect that stuff. I’m also a nerd who does go to comic con (*boos are heard throughout the audience*)

7. Appearance wise!! I’m hella short, but it just means my personality is big. I have reddish brown hair with very round blue/green/grey eyes (idk their color people just say that they’re pretty), and a button nose.

Hi!! I hope you like your SPN matchup! <3333

---

Romantic;

---

Supernatural;

💐 You met Sam after you had gone to a coffee shop to get a drink, you walked into the nearby bookstore - you weren't looking for anything in particular, but when you accidently let a book slip from your arms, Sam the gentleman came right up and helped you; picking the book from off the ground, he gave you a smile; and before you knew it, you ended up talking for a good thirty minutes or so

💐 During the next couple of months, you and Sam would often meet up and go to that coffee shop together - swinging by the bookstore after - and just talking about everything and anything; he was quickly becoming a close friend of yours, even being front row at some of your rock concerts

💐 Skipping to actually dating, Sam is really supportive, if you want to do something, he is there to support you (follow your dreams - and he's a very good listener, if you just want to rant about your day, he's there; and if you want to rant about sexism in a tv show, Sam will understand how important it is to you, and probably join you in the ranting

💐 If you go down for a nap with your cat, he'd probably join you, if not, he'd most likely sit on the bed beside you, quietly reading - and when you wake up, he'd probably see if you want to go out and go on a small adventure to the bookstore

💐 Sam is totally down to go to Comic Con with you, if you dress up, he'd dress up too - and if you find something you like there (maybe a little something that makes your home more fairy-like), Sam is more than willing to carry it for you if you get tired carrying it for the how many hours you wander around the Con

#cute #fluff #x reader #request #requested #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 17 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 4132

Warnings: language, violence, blood

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Since when do you of all people sigh?", said Prince James.

"Since meeting your sister", Gilbert rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had his head laid back on the large velvet armchair he had claimed, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

James chuckled. "You better get your head straight or you'll lose", he said as he moved another chess piece on the giant board. Only they were not chess pieces; they were war figurines, stolen from some General's cupboard, and the board was a map of the continent.

"Maybe you'll get your chance to win then", said the Young Emperor.

James gave him an innocent smile. He raised his own glass in a toast. "How can I ever win against an Emperor, Your Majesty", he mocked.

"Stop", Gilbert stood. He walked up to James, stealing the small iron knight from his grasp. He took one look at the board in front of them before deciding to place the piece on a great flat plane, where James had left his scouts.

"My my", James said with a smile, "You just obliterated my men"

"It was your fault for leaving them so open to a cavalry attack", Gilbert responded, "Even the most archaic of armies would have torn them apart".

They sat in agreed silence for a while before James broke it with an invitation to a Merchant's birthday celebration.

"I don't think I'll be in the mood", Gilbert scowled.

"Oh come on", James leaned back on the board, "What's got your knickers in a knot?"

Gilbert sat back down, covering his free eye with his hand. His back slouched as he breathed out a heavy sigh.

"You alright mate?", James asked concerned.

Gilbert kept his head down. He took the Queen of Hearts out of the card deck he kept in his pocket and turned it around and around in his hands. "I don't know what to do", he stilled the card, the queen facing him. "I want to kill him", he said, "I truly want to kill him. But that would make me lose her forever"

"Kill who?"

"Chevalier"

"The King of Rhodolite?", James chuckled, "Why?"

"You don't know?"

"You're the only family who talks to me"

Gilbert held his breath. "He hurt your sister", he chose his words carefully, "and he's still going after her"

James' smile fell off. "What?", he asked.

"You've probably heard about his father", Gilbert turned his head away to hide the smile, his chin resting on his hand, "Do you think the son would be all that different?"

James was casually leaning back on the table that held their game, yet his voice betrayed all the emotions Gilbert hoped to draw out of him. "I heard the brutal beast had a mistress".

"I know for a fact there's a girl named Emma living in the castle"

Gilbert had to keep his back to James as he spoke; his smile stretched his lips too wide, his eyes shone too brightly with wicked victory.

"Bastard", said James, "Why hasn't y/n done anything?"

Gilbert's smile fell. He had to think of something, fast. "She's the future monarch", he said, "Has she ever done anything to give people doubt over her capability for that role?"

"No", James muttered, "As long as it stays a secret she will not act against him".

Gilbert's expression relaxed. It grew joyous once more at the sound of James' next words.

"If he's still a threat then I suppose I could arrange an accident"

Gilbert was practically beaming. Despite his young years, James was especially adept with all the tools required to survive in the world of royal politics; That included eloquence, reason and, most of all, cunning.

"You don't have to do that", he said knowing James was too far gone to back down.

"Hey, I already live in exile", he said, "there's no reason I should not help a friend"

Gilbert's heart clenched. No, he could not back down now. He would not.

"You should know", he told James, "He has a strong threshold for poison, and he's quite skilled with the blade too"

James chuckled. "What a challenge", he said colorfully, "Now I'm actually intrigued to see if I can"

"I'm sure you can", said Gilbert, "You're very capable.

"I'm not sure how that matters anymore"

Gilbert turned to trace him once more. He stood and walked up close enough to rest a hand on the young prince's shoulder.

"There are a lot of changes I plan on making in Obsidian", he said, "Replacing incompetent lords being one of them"

That seemed to peak James' interest.

"You could have the power of a Count as you wait for your father to reinstate you", Gilbert added, "You don't have to just wallow in exile"

James smiled. "You got yourself a deal"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"How long has it been since you two spoke?", Emma asked from the other side of the cramped carriage.

She had insisted on coming with Chevalier when he left for Benitoite because, as she put it, she owed y/n so much. Yves tagged along when he heard Clavis was coming. And so three people ended up sharing Jonathan's carriage, Chevalier and Clavis following in the carriage behind.

"Almost two years, ever since his exile", said Jonathan, "Y/n always kept contact though. You could say he's always been her Clavis. Well...he's not as nice"

"Not as nice?", Yves shrieked, "You're telling me he's worse than Clavis?". His hands clung to the sides of the carriage as he heaved like a frigthened kitten.

"That is not the part we should be worried about"

"There's more!?", Emma rested her hand on Yves' shoulder as he cried.

"I'm afraid so", Jonathan continued, "He's friends with Gilbert"

Emma grasped the hand of a very panicked Yves, her thumb tracing over his knuckles. "How are we going to convince him to help us then?", she asked calmly.

"We don't, but Chevalier must", said Jonathan.

"This plan is already doomed", Yves despaired.

Jonathan rested his cheek on his hand. "I don't know", he said, "I know my brother. He would never do anything to hurt our family".

He fiddled with his gloves. He turned his gaze outside the glass window of the carriage as they entered the capital. A blue streak of ocean peaked between the houses at every alley they passed by on their way to the royal palace.

"In any case we need him", Jonathan said, "Much like you lot have factions you could say we do too. I serve as a connection to the people, while James is a master in the world of nobility". His shoulders slouched, his arms wrapping around his body. "I'm really useless when it comes to politics and etiquette", he said as the carriage came to a halt, "Even though younger, he's always been the better prince"

"We're here your Highnesses, lady", one of the knights knocked on the door.

"You said he was exiled?", Emma asked before Jonathan could reach for the handle.

But the prince never responded.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Chevalier fixed his long white coat. It seemed preposterous to attend a noble's party as the head of a nation, and yet lately he seemed quite prone to do illogical things. Prince James had sent Clavis an invitation the moment they arrived in Benitoite. He must have a pretty good network of spies of his own, he thought. Eyepatch was assumed to be the hand that guided all the shadows in the continent and yet given what Jonathan said about his brother, it would be safe to assume that this title was at the very least shared.

He looked through the mirror at y/n's book he had left on the nightstand. His mind battled his heart every minute since she had left. Up until Jonathan showed up in the garden, his mind was winning; but that was only because his heart assumed y/n would be happier without him. That was the sole reason he had not stopped her. But now that it knew she was miserable, it ached and screamed in his chest, clawing its way to his limps and thoughts, unrelentlessly usurping the crown of control.

Loving someone meant you wanted their happiness more than your own. Chevalier had learnt that the hard way. But hearts do not wait for misery to end; they fight until happiness is within their grasp.

It was a quiet event. Yet even the quietest of events would have been filled with rumours as a foreign King arrived, never mind one so rumoured for his coldness and so gossiped about after his recent and sudden change.

"Your Majesty, Your Highnesses", the nobleman came in uneasy steps to greet them, "It is truly an honour to welcome you to my estate".

"The honour is ours, your Lordship", Clavis gave the man a bright smile.

Chevalier wanted to walk away, find the prince and get away from this event. There was nothing he could say that would justify his presence. He represented his nation, now more than ever. He was the head of state, the crown, he was not supposed to attend informal celebrations. So he had nothing to say when the lord asked him about his presence.

"I decided to experience the Benitonian style of life", Chevalier was glad to had brought Clavis along. His brother flung an arm over his shoulder as he continued, "We're here to strengthen our alliance after all and what better way is there than to better understand the life here?"

"Yes, that is correct", Chevalier shook Clavis' arm off of his shoulder.

"Oh! I see!", the nobleman beamed, "Well you have certainly come to the right place, your Majesty! Here you'll meet the cream of Benitoite, and beyond!"

Chevalier gave the man a nod of agreement which the latter probably considered as animosity, given the nervous tick that overtook him. But that did not matter. Chevalier searched the room as his brother occupied the lord. Jonathan stood next to him, shoulders slouched.

"Do you see him?", Chevalier asked the prince.

"No. Not yet."

"What does he look like? "

"I haven't seen him in two years but...brown hair, dark blue eyes. And he always used to carry a cross mother had given him, before he ran away from the church"

"He was a monk?"

"Father wanted him to be a priest"

Chevalier's brows furrowed. Jonathan said he ran away from that world yet he still carried a part of it with him. He had his worries when he heard he was friends with Gilbert, but perhaps Jonathan was not foolish to believe his attachment to his family still held. He gestured towards the other side of the room. Jonathan nodded. It would be easier to search for James if they split up.

The young King walked with a face of ice among the nobleman's guests. He searched from the orchestra to the buffet, from the dance floor to the corridors hidden behind the arches of the grand ballroom, yet he could not find the prince anywhere. He was supposed to be-

Something heavy fell on top of him as he turned around a dark corner. A woman in a tight dress with a low neckline that complimented her figure was using his arms as a crutch in an effort to stand up. The remnants of a broken heel lay behind her. Her red nails plunged into the fabric of his jacket. Chevalier looked at her with a gaze of stone as her eyes widened in realization of what she had done. Without her heel, she lost her balance and reached for the nape of his jacket. Chevalier took a step forward under the weight. He clenched his teeth, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

"Thank you Sir", her voice softened, "You really saved my dignity. That was kind of you"

Chevalier did not respond.

"I'm Melody", she curtseyed, her breasts threatening to spill from her corset. When she raised her gaze again, Chevalier was already gone.

How foolish, he thought, was being a Queen so tempting that there were now women greedy and desperate enough to resort to these vile methods of temptation? Would they still approach him if y/n was at his side? He passed by a swarm of girls, leaning over the balcony that looked to the garden.

"If I asked him to steal me away from here do you think he would?"

"Doubt, I heard he has a fiancee"

"Would that still be on? He's in exile isn't he?"

Chevalier stopped. He was always quiet, but he always listened, and he had never been more grateful than at that moment. He turned around. The girls were staring at something in the garden.

"If she's not here it's her loss", one of them said, "If he loved me I would not let him go"

"I don't know I'd be scared", another added, "They say he's the devil"

"Well then call me damned"

They giggled. That was when their silly banter stopped. Their eyes suddenly register Chevalier approaching. They did not know who he was; if they had, they would not be staring at his eyes with such marvel.

"Is it Prince James you speak of?", he said. For some reason his voice had the girls nudging at each other.

"Yes", a blonde one cleared her throat.

"I need to speak to him about an important matter", Chevalier looked at the now empty garden, "Was he in the garden?"

The girls turned their eyes back over the rim of the balcony. They looked at each other confused.

"He was here a second ago"

Chevalier nodded and, before they could ask him anything else, he disappeared into the darkness that covered the staircase which led to the garden. He quickly passed from the point where James was supposed to had been, carefully hiding himself in the shadows so that the girls would not see him. He looked right and left but the prince was nowhere to be seen. As he passed by the door that led to the beach, a dark figure caught his eye. The orange light of a cigarette lifting and dropping along with his hand, a young man in his early twenties stood on the dark beach by himself, his gaze glued to the horizon. It was too dark to make out his eyes, but his hair was sure to be brown, its soft locks elegantly brushed away from the man's face.

"Prince James", Chevalier called.

The man breathed out some smoke before lazily turning his gaze to meet the King's. "Yes, and you are?", he said.

"Let's not pretend you're not already aware of that", he said in his usual cold tone.

The prince chuckled. "The famed brutal beast", he reached in his pocket to fetch another cigarette, "Or should I say infamous?". He chuckled by himself. He offered the cigarette to Chevalier. "It's flowers, just flavour, not smoke", he said as soon as Chevalier denied his offer.

His eyes were dropped. His movements loose. "No", Chevalier said again.

James leaned back on a nearby rock, his posture, not one reflecting his stature. Chevalier was only just noticing the subtle details; his shirt was half unbuttoned, his eyes heavy with dark circles. His dark blue jacket was stained with something, the smell of alcohol emanating overwhelmingly hard from the spot.

"You came here with my brother", he drew his words, "My awesome big brother"

"I did", Chevalier said plainly.

"Did he tell you we haven't met in two years?"

"He said you were mad at him"

"Did he tell you why??", James leaned closer and closer with each sentence, his eyes wide as they interrogated the young King.

Chevalier took a deep breath. "No", he admitted.

"Jonathan got mad that I fixed his screw-up", said James, "He would had married a greedy whore who never gave a dime about his heart and all she wanted was to be a princess"

"I-"

"BUT HE'S THAT MUCH OF A GULLIBLE IDIOT", James cried, "And when I had her other love affairs published in the papers and had her name ruined he was mad at ME!"

James yelled at Chevalier's face, but his expression did not shift an inch. He took a deep breath before reaching for him. James shoved the hand away. Chevalier frowned. He grabbed the young man by the collar and dragged him along with him as he walked back to the gate. James fought back, as much as the alcohol allowed him.

"The hell are you doing?", he cried, "let me go!". James kicked Chevalier on the leg until he was able to pry himself away, mostly because the young King released him as he rolled his eyes. "Just who do you think you are?", the prince said.

Chevalier did not respond. It was clear that James had now gone on the defensive. Whatever Chevalier said to him, even if it made absolute sense as a logical argument, to the eyes of a drunk and desperate man it would appear to be an attack. He has hoped to at least bring him inside the carriage and have Jonathan take care of him but...

"You're just as pathetic", James mumbled, "I can't believe y/n fell for the same trick"

That drew Chevalier's attention. That was bad, did he think-

"Did you have your fun?", James mocked, "Did you think of Gilbert every time you screwed her? Or was it the money? I know who you are, I've been hearing about you for years. You never do anything without a reason"

That's right; Clavis said they kept tabs. He would had surely complained to this man countless times about his old self. Chevalier never had a blank slate to begin with. He clenched his fists. He lowered his fuming gaze. He had to stay calm. He had been called heartless and ruthless his entire life. So why was it affecting him so much now?

"She wanted to love you and you made her your cock sleeve ", James hissed.

Chevalier had never felt himself snap; yet that was the only thing that could describe the overwhelming feeling that ran through his body, taking control before his mind could think. His hands moved by themselves to grab James and shove him on the rock. His fingers wrapped around the man's throat, his gaze murderous. James gasped for air. That small desperate tune snapped the King back to his senses. He looked back at the prince. His eyes frightened, his fingers clawing at his neck; he was just a kid, almost ten years younger than Chevalier. He let him go, and the prince fell on his knees as he struggled for breath.

Chevalier had ruined his chances.

"Go inside, get water", he said plainly before turning to leave, "I'll find your brother. He'll take you back"

"Gilbert wants you dead", James said.

Chevalier stopped walking. "I know", he said.

"You're not gonna do anything about it?"

"He's not being unreasonable to wish it", Chevalier said coldly, "But going through with it would be irresponsible for someone of his-"

"He ordered me to kill you", James said in a plain tone.

Chevalier straightened his back. "That would be unwise", he responded.

"I know I don't stand a chance", James kept his head low, "Which is why I am not going through with it". Chevalier's face creased from confusion. "Let's talk inside", James waved at him, "I'm getting cold".

The moment Chevalier turned back to the estate he was confronted by four armed soldiers, pointing their blades at his chest. Their clothes were black, blending in with the shadows of the garden, the silver crest of Obsidian embroidered in their capes. Chevalier reached for his sword, quickly unsheathing and taking a defensive pose. Before he could charge at his attackers however, he heard James' quiet yelp from behind. He turned around to find the prince helplessly bound with rope, a short dagger grazing his throat. His eyes shone with desperation underneath the lonely moon, his brows creased with panic.

"Well, well, well, if it is not the Brutal Beast", said one of the soldiers. He kept himself safely behind the protection of his comrades' blades, away from Chevalier's reach. He directed his next words to James, "His Majesty knew you'd back down, you traitorous mongrel".

James thrashed harshly in his attackers' grasp but was only met with a sharp hit on his head with a scabbard. Chevalier's breath caught; Gilbert had really gotten out of control.

"Nothing personal your Majesty, but we would like to execute the traitor now", the man gestured at his followers with his gloved hand

The blade straightened up against James' neck. "Don't", Chevalier said viciously, "You do that, you die"

"We'll die anyway if we don't", said the leader, "Don't worry, your Majesty, we'll have a go at you before the end"

"You will sign your obituary with that but", Chevalier breathed heavily. It was too soon for y/n to lose someone else. Both she and Jonathan had spoken of how y/n and James were the closest in their family. This would surely break her. "Your goal is to kill me", he said calmly, "I will allow it if you let him live"

"The hell is wrong with-"

"A great deal", Chevalier cut James off, "A great deal that would surely only burden your sister in a number of ways"

"And you think sacrificing yourself would make her happy somehow?"

"No. If she loves me half as much as I do her I know it would devastate her", Chevalier said, "But that would still be too little in contrast to how she'd feel if I allow you to be murdered under my watch". He lowered his gaze, his voice broken. "She's known me for a year tops. You are family. I have no delusions of my importance"

The leader nodded. He gestured his followers to release James and they pushed him to the sand. "Now your sword", he said and Chevalier complied.

"Go", The King told James. The prince staggered away in fear. "Tell y/n I-"

Chevalier's eyes fell on one of his attackers' shoes; specifically its broken heel. His mind finally realised what was bugging him since the soldiers arrived. His body finally relaxed.

"James", he called, "Call back your people or else."

James' eyes widened before he exploded into a burst of uncontrollable laughter. "Man", he breathed, "You're good. It took you a while longer than I thought it would though, I'm honoured"

"You're not even drunk are you"

"That is true as well", James wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes as the soldiers threw away their ridiculous attires.

"My, I think it was the heel"

Chevalier turned his gaze to the soldier with the broken heel. Or rather, the woman who had fallen into his arms when he was at the ball. She had pulled back her hair into a tight ponytail, her tight dress replaced by light black armor that covered her entire body.

"It was hardly the only clue darlin", James threw his arm over her shoulder, giving her a small peck on the cheek.

"Let me apologize for the way I spoke to you your Majesty", the man who was portraying the troop leader bent his body in half, "The truth is, he is an ass"

"Melville, shut up", James fixed his suit. He ran his fingers over his slick hair, clearing it away from his face. "I'm surprised Clavis hasn't gotten one on you over the years", he said. Chevalier did not respond. "Ooh scary", James smiled deviously before approaching the young King, "You have my full support. I'll help you in whatever way I can"

Chevalier raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

"Melville, please take the others and fuck off"

"Your Majesty", Melville bowed to Chevalier once again, "If you kill him I won't say a word"

James pretended to be shocked. "Et tu Brutus?", he said theatrically.

Melville shook his shoulders with a smile before gesturing the other soldiers to follow him.

"Melody, honey, you too please", James wrapped his hand around the woman's waist and gave her a short kiss on the lips.

Melody cupped his cheeks, smiling, before turning to Chevalier. "I won't say anything either", she said playfully and kissed James' exaggeratedly shocked mask of a face.

He watched her form with a smile until she disappeared into the depths of the estate.

"I see", said Chevalier.

"Probably not", James sighed, "But you're starting to". He fixed his eyes on Chevalier's. "True love is sacrifice", he said determined, "Gilbert only understands obsession".

He handed over a crumbled letter to the young King, y/n's beautiful signature at its bottom. It was filled with words of love for Chevalier, even though it was addressed to James. Words smudged with tears. It told of her struggle to love Gilbert, or even be around him when her thoughts were occupied by his hated rival. How she cried when the bed was empty and how she only slept with her back on her fiance, to pretend he was someone else. How she hurt to not give back to Gilbert when he tried so hard, but her concern was Chevalier's broken heart as she gazed at it behind his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wish I had never met one of them, for knowing both has broken me. Chevalier taught me love while Gilbert showed me why I can't ever have it", the last sentences read, "If I had not met Chevalier I would live in happy ignorance. If I had not met Gilbert, I would spend my days in ecstatic happiness. What measure of apology would be enough for me to want the latter?"

"If she had never met me..."

"That is not the point", James snatched the letter away, "This letter is simply proof that my sister is a good person. But i'm not. And I sure as hell know you're not either"

Chevalier frowned. What did he mean?

"Is it really that wrong to want happiness?"

Chevalier let out a deep sigh. "For people of our"

"Cut the crap. Of course it's not. You're human. Both of you are". James was frowning. His eyes blazed, drilling deep into Chevalier's as they challenged his ideals. "Let me ask you this", he said, "Why did you come here?"

Chevalier remained silent for a little while. "Because she's not happier without me as I first thought", he finally said.

James smiled again. "Exactly", he told him, "So let's get you back in her arms"

#ikepri #ikemen prince #chevalier michel #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri chevalier #ikepri gilbert #the obsidianite jewel

[iravaid]

Art tips I beg of you share your wisdom

Oh god oh fuck I'll try, a lot of my art process is vibes only, i kind of just zone out and Draw and a picture appears

I have to stress that practice is the most important part of art, even if said art looks shit and you feel like the world is ending because you're not doing well/making tangible process/it's not turning out how you want. Gotta push through that by accepting that hey, sometimes your art turns out looking Janky, so what? You still took the time and effort to make art, and you're more of an artist than you were before starting the piece. You can sit back and figure out how to constructively criticise yourself without destroying your own self confidence for the sake of a viewer who isn't there. Practice being neutral about noting the parts you dislike - 'this anatomy is awful and I'm shit at it, why do i bother' isn't going to help as much as sitting back, going 'damn that looks weird, lol' and then looking up reference photos similar to what you'd been hoping to draw and figuring out where things went wrong.

When starting with a drawing, person or animal, I find myself focusing on the silhouette initially. Sometimes i might play around with a solid colour, or focus on the outline with a thin-ish pen. It helps to be aware of certain curves on a form and how it relates to other features of the body proportionally. Look at the empty spaces on the piece and look back to those in the reference, or your own intuition, flip the canvas etc, and see if it looks 'right'. Get funky with it when in the draft stage

Tracing for practice and reference also helps - but don't trace blindly, instead use it as a chance to figure out how the lines of a person/animal/construct move, and how can you replicate that in art. Make guidelines and notes on how things are proportionate to each other, isolate singular lines and practice them over and over to build up the muscle memory.

kind of like the above, where I used photos of an oc's faceclaim (Andy Lau) and traced over them, isolated certain features, made guidelines, and so on

When figuring out how to draw faces, I use a couple little anatomy tricks to keep things in line before tweaking some of the features to make things more unique:

Corners of the mouth tend to align with the top of the jaw. The corners of the mouth also align with the pupils if a front-facing figure is looking straight on. The inner corners of both eyes align with the outer nostrils. Top of the ears align with the top of the eyelid and earlobes align with the bottom of the nose.

This can change depending on feature size etc, some people have bigger or smaller eye or theyre close together or further apart, or they have large earlobes or none at all, or their nose is small or big. I just use it as a guideline to make sure features are in order because. Uh. I keep forgetting to draw in the guides during the draft stage.

Variability of the human face lends well to avoiding same face syndrome as you can stretch the features quite a bit. It may feel weird or wrong drawing a face with different features to how you're used to, but that's the point of practice and progress.

For rendering I found using the colour zones of the face (shown below) adds a lot of oomph and depth after finding my own rendering attempts falling a bit flat.

(above, from Gurney Journey describing the colour zones of the face)

(below, by ArtofYorugami on twitter)

I make the three colour bands, blend them to the contours of the face, then set the layer to multiply and lower the opacity to around 10-20%, and make further tweaks there to where it best suits the face being drawn.

Other little things

Eyes aren't totally white, make them a touch grayer and also add a little bit of blue to give it some depth. Same with teeth but I've yet to figure those freaks out

Hands are the devil but draw them enough times and you can flub your way through them until they feel normal. Would recommend having at least one finger in a different position to the rest, as our hands naturally rest with the index finger away from the rest. Again, use a reference, trace for research and building muscle memory, be cognizant of the muscles and bones at play in the hand and wrist. There are reference compilations on pinterest I've found in the past that have been helpful, and taking a photo of your own hand is an option as well.

A hand's palm width across is also the height of your lower face. That sentence doesn't make a lot of sense - but if you put your hand over your mouth, the top will be touching the bottom of your nose, and the bottom of your hand will align with your chin, more or less. Again, this can change from person to person but is helpful when eyeballing proportions.

Reference sites like x6ud is very helpful for angles of people and animals. Apps like Handy are helpful with figuring out how certain angles of light interact with the face. Videos like this one and this one are also good lighting references. Just looking up 'face under different light angles' on a search engine or pinterest will also be fruitful. Books like Michel Lauricella 's Morpho - Fat and Skin Folds is also very useful and you can find free pdfs online with enough safe digging. And there are a number of tutorials by tumblr artists on a number of desired topics

For expressions, it can be difficult to word the search right to find the specific look and angle you want as a reference. If you're willing, I'd recommend taking a photo of yourself making the expression at the intended angle. No one but you has to see the photo lmao

Uhhh. Multiply, overlay, add (glow) are your friends if you use CSP, play around with pens and layer effects until you get ones you like. I'm partial to the CSP textured pen for lineart and the watercolour pen for rendering

I think that's all i have ahjfjdks 😭 sorry, hope this helped a little bit!

#ask #anon #apologies if this isn't much help! I'm self taught so am just vibing #my art #iraart

[geeksauruse]

Sup, can I request a TMNT 2014/16 matchup please?

My name is Gabriela, but they call me Gabi/Gabby. Im 17, female, with long,straight, shoulder-lenght hair, hazel eyes, wearing black glasses. Im tall. Im from Slovakia, but I have also Russian ancestors ( it makes me half Russian, if thats makes sense). I mostly wear dark clothes, my style is idk cozy, Dark academia..

Im a Libra ❤️

I have nothing to do with war and Im against it and I hate Putin 🙂❤️. ( Fucking asshole)

Personality : Im really shy, and quiet, seriously you don't even know Im in the room. People think that Im a weirdo cause I have always nose stuck in a book, with black earphones or going around with a sketbook, drawing something. I feel really left out from a society but hey, if they wanna have me as a freak, IDGAF. I love to work out though. I know that my body doesnt look like it cause Im average, but hey, my body, my Choice. Yeah, I curse a lot but don't worry, you'll get to used to it. Im an only child. My bedroom is filled with pictures on the wall and books. Its cozy and kinda aesthetic.

I love Maneskin, AC/DC, Kiss, pop and party songs. I love to dance. I like Shinedown and Billie Eilish too but I listen to Russian music too.

I live in village with my mom, grandma and cats.

My grades are mostly A's, sometimes B's. Family thinks that Im sort of a genius cause I love technology and look at my grades. Yeah, thats why 😂😂. Though, I hate math. Ugh, gross 🙄

I work at the restaurant, Im a waitress. Im at Hotel Academy High school, in September Im in 3rd year.

I love meditation. Its so calming. I love loooong walks around village 🥺❤️. I can't imagine something better. Running is my fav thing too

My fav colors are blue and black and also purple

Yeah, I think thats All.

After considering the four options I have selected to pair you with…

Our leader in blue, Leonardo!

Leonardo would fall for you for your similar personality’s and interests, not to mention your fabulous looks.

The two of you met in strange to say the least fashion.

It was a regular night for you, you were walking around time square listing to your music,AC/DC blasting out of your black headphones.

You were so into your internal world, wrapped up mulling over the most recent plot twist in your book that you had walked straight into the most recent fight between the foot and the turtles.

Or better put, the end of it.

You didn’t notice your surroundings at first, but the turtles noticed you waltzing into their fight instantly.

It’s hard to miss the hip swaying teen with a book bag the size of a small six year old child, singing the lyrics to ( your fav song here)

You did a spin landing directly on top of a foot soldier who was about to shoot( he missed)

As you and your belongings crashed to the ground with a scream, the foot soldier tried to tackle you.

Your first reaction was,To throw a punch as hard as you could, inevitably breaking the dudes nose.

As slay as you are, he was still unfazed as he pulled out a knife.

Leo, just in time, pulled the guy off of your frightened form, and threw him into a wall.

“ are you okay ma’am?”

You sat there staring in shock at the massive, toned wall of a six foot male turtle man.

“Ma’am?”

And that’s when you looked up and saw the beautiful, clear blue eyes.

“ you have beautiful eyes.”

Even tho you complimented him in the first meeting and seemed completely harmless, he was still very hesitant to trust you. That kinda what he does.

He’s not shy, and he doesn’t hate you,he’s just a little cautious.

And so he watched you get along with his brothers. And that’s how he started to trust and fall for you.

It started with the major things that he noticed.

Your favourite bands, Color’s, and style.

When he finally realised he could trust you  he did take into consideration that your shy.

When he approached you, it was very formal and yet very kind.

Y’all became very quick friends after he heard how you liked to mediate.

Dudes entire motors screams slow burn.

This relationship develops over at least a six month time period.and this is the just friends stage.

After times he kinda learns more things about you.

How smart and sweet you were, how you loved to dance and spinning is one of your favourite parts of it.

All of a sudden you were coming over and he set out your fave fork.

Why does he know this? He asks himself in the middle of the night when Mikey talks about how close you are and how he seems to know about you likes and dislikes.

In denial for like two weeks and avoids you for both.

Realised he caught feelings and thankfully  you had them as well cause you had to make the first move.

When you did it was very awkward but also very sweet because he spent most of your confession and after being the gentleman he it.

When your relationship started he absolutely adored learning and doing the things that you liked, especially cause he liked to do them as well.

Reading and meditation, not to mention running!

Thinks your hobbies are the coolest especially cause they are similar to his( meditation, workout, eat and then read)

Y’all really got on swell.

He understands that you are shy and quite and he really doesn’t mind, he’s a ninja after all so you both were able to get on noticing each other without actually being noticed.

He is on board with your art skills, loves to watch you draw.

he also likes the color blue, for obvious reasons 💅💅💅💅

I hope you like it and have a great day!

💙💙💙

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt oc #teenage mutant ninja turtles #matchups #tmnt match up #matchmaking #match ups #tmnt leonardo #match up

[mark-of-chrysus]

Here a fun loop Danny basically got into the Yaoi & Yuri world were people are homosexual and being is straight is an odd ball in that world.

You can say Jay is expressive as he doesn't need to hide his feelings for Daniel.

[I don't think societal norms affect their relationship as it is anyways, but if you're giving me a free opportunity to write about my favorite gay bitches who am I to decline?]

Danny should've been focusing on his surroundings more, he really should have, but there was something just so darn enchanting about his beloved's crimson lips that he couldn't help himself from staring.

Jay was looking even more exquisitely than he usually did, the two open buttons of his shirt revealing his delicate cleavage in a way that made Daniel conflicted between covering it up and sinking his teeth into the appetizing skin and leaving behind undeniable marks of his love. The mere thought of how that would draw such sweet little sounds from the mouth of his darling nearly sent him over the edge. He daydreamed of having the boy breathless and flushed beneath him, bent over the very desk he sat at in a vulgar display.

He resisted these urges, not because they were in public, but because he and Jay hadn't yet crossed that bridge in this loop and he intended on making their first time memorable, regardless of the fact he had already done so in each and every cycle. It was his way of cherishing the blonde, despite him not being aware of it.

This world was more open to same-sex relationships, those being the norm unlike most of the ones he passed through (not that it had ever stopped him from openly simping for Jay). The dynamic between his classmates and friends was, as such, a bit different, with many new couples. His favorite was between Zoe and Crystal at the current date, although it relieved him to see that Zack had remained utterly besotted with Mira despite the change. Some things never change! Danny shook his head fondly.

His gaze darted back to the desk near the window and he froze. While he had been stuck in his thoughts Jay had gotten up and leaned over his desk in a way that displayed even more of his sculpted chest. The black-haired boy looked up and gulped, his eyes glued to the supple curve of his classmate's neck. He once more restrained the urge to press his sweetheart to the wooden desk.

People are watching! The time-looper reminded himself. Jay had never been one for crowds, he knew that, but this clearly wasn't the case this time. Danny watched with a mix of surprise and fascination as the blonde reached for his chin, forcing him to look up. Their noses were almost touching and he felt as though waiting another moment would be enough for him to lose control.

Not at that stage yet-!

His thoughts were cut off by a pair of warm lips pressing onto his, first gently then more and more fiercely as he didn't reject them. Muscle memory took over and he placed a hand on the blonde's cheek while the other rested on his waist, gently maneuvering the boy on his lap. The make-out session began getting more intense as Jay moved his other hand into Danny's hair and tugged, getting a low groan from the taller male. Their lips molded perfectly against each other and their tongues curled and twisted together, not in a battle for dominance, but in a dance of passion. A small gasp escaped through the blonde's lips and was quickly swallowed by the other.

Once again the eons-old love reignited in Danny's chest like a flare. He yearned to pull other sounds from his mouth, not just those of carnal pleasure, but the addicting sound of his laughter or the small scoffs he gave when he was angry. He would happily abandon fighting and the 'greater good' if only to hold him in his embrace a moment longer. If he wanted the stars he would tear them from the heavens and bring them to him. One word, unspoken as it may be, and the boy would tear his own heart out and give it to him. One look and he would be on his knees in worship. One touch and he could die a thousand deaths in flames happily.

There were no words to explain his adoration for the boy, but one matter was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt in his mind, there was no greater joy than loving someone so deeply and for as long as he did.

"Ahem!"

The teacher's cough interrupted their kiss, and the two lovebirds were forced to separate, with Jay going back to his desk and leaving Daniel behind to sulk. Oh well, the bell is just about to ring anyway~

[Am I the only one feeling like the dynamic between the two twinks is a bit too one-sided? Look forward to me adjusting that next time! <3 ]

#time loop #lookism manhwa #webtoon lookism #lookism #daniel park #jay hong

[thebranchesofshe]

Abe Kisro

"I just go walkin' sometimes when I sleep. I see people long gone. My mama had it too, and I hope she ain't still walkin' now that she's gone. By the way, Miz Liz, that paintin' of a horse in your son's room is the most heartbreakin' beautiful thing I ever seen."

Three words: observant, unorthodox, empathetic.

Name: Aberham Kisro

Date of birth: April 9, 1948.

Age as of Chapter I: 22.

Height: 6'2"

Gender: Gender? I hardly know her! (He's such a boy.)

Orientation: yes.

Occupation: nothing at the moment but there's a vacancy at Vick's Diner.

Where's his middle mame?: don't have one.

Is his name really spelled like that?: yes and it's gotten him out of a few jams when someone was looking for an "Abraham" Kisro.

Favorite book: he doesn't read so well. His brain gets a little cloudy.

Favorite film: he doesn't really go to pictures either.

Favorite treat: the boy has a soft spot for chocolate cake.

Background: he was born in east Texas and lived there all his life until just now. His mother was a sex worker and his father was a circus clown who quite literally came and went. Abe was mostly deafened by a shotgun blast when he was 12, which is around the time he dropped out of school. Not because he was deaf, but because he figured he could read, write, and do math, the basic tools anyone needs. That, and he needed money. He tended to horses since he was small. By 13 he was driving farm trucks. By 17 his mother had died and he went into boxing after discovering after one too many fistfights that he could get hit a lot and not fall down. He's a 6'2" welterweight.

Why is he in Tennessee?: he killed a guy.

How?: guy starved and dehydrated to make the weight class and died during the bout.

Sounds like an accident: yeah, and it is, but Abe was traumatized by it and swore off of boxing and violence in general. He also started having photosensitive seizures after too many hits to the dome. He had no real ties or roots anywhere so he started drifting from town to town in his truck. Tennessee is a pretty nice place to be, he heard.

What's with the walkin' thing?: he astral projects when he goes to sleep. Make no mistake, he knows exactly what that is.

What does he want?: he wants connection, community, roots... to help people, do good. He doesn't quite know how, but he wants to try. He's been looking for a place to put down roots for a long time.

Can he see the man with the blurry face?: and how!

Does he like books? Movies?: he can't make much sense of fiction, but he likes art books and nonfiction stuff, and movies are too visually unpredictable, but he likes that they're loud. Mostly he just likes watching public access television. It's kind of fascinating to him. He likes music, folk, country, prog rock, but he can't listen to it often because he needs it loud.

What else?: he's constantly drawing. All the time. Keeps notepads on him. Draws surreal little doodles of people he sees.

What would he change about himself if he could?: he would like to not have seizures. Why do you ask?

There's someone coming to Decaelo who might be able to take them away: Lyle? Lyle Everett Love? The faith healer? That guy's a phony.

Does he know any sign language?: not much, but he has some stolen library books about it and he sometimes practices in front of a mirror. He wishes he had someone to talk to.

Does he have any friends?: he hopes he will soon.

Any enemies?: it's hard to have beef with a dadaist noodle.

What does he look like?: tall slender pale dude with very straight black hair that's always a little greasy and a little too long to do much with, so he brushes it back. Pale blue eyes, tall forehead, little upturned nose. He wears sunglasses all the time and has a scar on his cheek.

Bro you're just describing like... a strung out 70's Nick Cave: shut up no I'm not.

I lied, bitch!

#characters #visages #abe kisro

[marvelsimp97]

Beauty and the Beast (Loki x Reader) Part Seven

Summary: (Name) grew up in a small village in Vanaheim. When she was a small child barbarian men attacked the village and most of the people remembers a beast which killed the barbarians. No one remembers where the beast came or where it disappeared. (Name) knows the beast however, like no one else. Now, after fifty years, Prince Thor of Asgard visits the village searching for a maid who wouldn’t get scared of his brother and who would make sure that the younger prince would get up in time and would attend to the events and meetings he needs to. The blonde arrives right after (Name)’s father throws her out and tells her never to return. (Name) is in need of a roof above her head and money so she accepts the offer because well, she doesn’t really have a choice.

Word count: 2525

Warnings: fluff, angst

The silence deafened you as you sat by Loki's side on the edge of his bed changing the wet cloth on his forehead or washed off the sweat from his upper body. Your worry only grew with the time he was unconscious and the nurses who checked on him and changed his bandages didn't reassure you about anything. They only said that he will get better.

You spent your time watching over him since he was brought back to his chambers from the infirmary and that was three days ago. The sun was close to the horizon, you could see it from the spot you sat through the window. The warm orange and yellow light caressed your skin and the furniture in the room. You watched his chest raise and fall with the breaths he took before your (e/c) eyes slowly ventured further up to his collar-bone which was exposed by his white shirt, to his neck and chin then to his thin pink lips and long straight nose and finally to his closed eyelids fluttering sometimes. You felt something tighten on your wrist and when you looked down you saw his slender fingers curl around tighter and tighter with every passing second. You snapped your attention back to his face and saw that his dark eyebrows were narrowed and lips parted. His head snapped to the right then to the left quickly as his hold on your wrist only got tighter. You hissed in pain but knew you had to do something. He was having a nightmare. You closed your eyes and did what you always did when you couldn't sleep. You opened your lips and started singing a melodic song you knew from your childhood.

Now let the day just slip away So the dark night may watch over you Then the view silent, true It embraces your heart and your soul, Nocturne Never cry, never sigh You don't have to wonder why Always be, always see Come and dream the night with me, Nocturne Have no fear when the night draws near And fills you with dreams and desire Like a child asleep so warm, so deep You will find me their waiting for you, Nocturne We will fly, claim the sky We don't have to wonder why Always be, always see Come and dream the night with me, Nocturne Though darkness fades It will give way When the dark night delivers the day, Nocturne

You placed your other hand on his cheek massaging circles into his skin. Loki slowly stopped trashing around and calmed back into a deep sleep as your voice sounded through the room filling it. The air filled with magic by your voice everything getting a warmer hue to it. You kept your palm on his pale and cold cheek until you finished your song.

His eyes fluttered and slowly opened as his thin lips pulled into a small, happy smile.

'You are singing...' he croaked out turning his head slightly to look at you. You smiled at him happily and nodded with tears in your eyes.

'I thought you would never wake up.' you whispered.

'I slept for so long because the arrow that hit me was poisoned.' Loki replied. 'Are you not angry... with me?'

'What?' you asked chuckling. 'You were the one who yelled at me...'

'And I am sorry for that.' sighed Loki turning his gaze from your face. 'I was the one who kissed you without permission... and now you must be disgusted by it. I blame the alcohol for my braveness but I know it was only me. I wanted to do that... since a long time but-'

'Why would I be disgusted?' you asked furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. 'I am the servant here.'

'I... you do not know of my-' he turned back to you with confusion written all over his handsome face. 'heritage...?'

'What are you talking about, Loki?' you asked back. 'You are the son of Odin, the All-Father, a prince of Asgard.'

Loki chuckled sadness dripping from his voice and shook his head in disbelief. He closed his eyes as he laid his left lower arm on them. You felt his fingers which were curled around your wrist suddenly get extremely cold making you look down to see his skin turn dark blue with symbols decorating his skin. Your eyes widened and you snapped back your head to look at his face. His skin was just as blue as his hand and his eyes turned crimson red taking over the blue.

'Y-you are... cold.' you furrowed your eyebrows not knowing what you should say, but didn't let go of his hand even if it started hurting you.

'Well, darling, I am a Frost Giant. Of course I am cold.' chuckled the prince. 'Why are you not pulling away?'

'As I said, I am not disgusted, Loki. Hardly.' you chuckled shaking your head. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest as you watched him. He turned back to the way you got used to see him and let go of your wrist. However you felt like you had to share your secret with him.

Those barbarians back then, when your friend got her terrible death, those horrible men didn't just die on their own. Oh, no. Something killed them. You killed them.

Flashback~

You watched crimson splatter onto the dirt below. You felt rage. Pure rage. Something that was boiling in your veins and circled around your body. You had to get out of there. You couldn't stay inside. You didn't know why but you knew you had to get out so you disappeared into the back door which was actually the place where the useless parts of the grain.

You slid through the opening and quickly stormed into the woods because the barbarians let the gates open. You ran and ran further and further into the forest feeling something change and shift inside you. Your skin felt like it was someone else's skin. You fell to your knees in the darkness of the trees surrounding you like a tent hiding you away from the rain. You panted heavily as you lifted your palms to inspect them. You couldn't shake this... rage out of your body. You snarled at your palms before slamming them into the ground angrily. Something happened that day and you never forgot it. Couldn't.

You felt your teeth grow pointy edges as your sight slightly changed and had a yellow hue to it. The nails on your fingertips started growing into claws and your skin turned into scales. It was like a dream. You didn't feel it your body anymore. It felt foreign. You let out a growl as pain shot through your back. You heard the sickening sound of bones popping and muscles tearing but you felt relieved now that your wings were free. Wait... what? Wings? You snapped your head back to see dragon wings, thin layer of (f/c) skin stretching between bones forming wings and covered in the same (f/c) skin. You looked down on your hands but there were no hands anymore. There were large paws with claws as sharp as a sword. You weren't Vanir anymore. You were something different. Something no one had seen since a long, long time. You jumped into the air knowing how to fly by instinct. You looked down on Hemnor and watched the barbarians for a few minutes go around and listened to the screams. You snarled at it before taking off towards the village.

No one noticed you at first and they needed some time to notice you slaughtering the barbarians. You were already almost finished with most of them when they noticed and grabbed their weapons. You looked around and tried to find something to use against them but the villagers came running at the barbarians and killed the rest with simple tools like a pitchfork. You watched the villagers finish them off before taking off before anyone could notice you. You were tired and knew that you would change back soon.

You landed on the ground between the trees and collapsed to the dirt. You curled up and closed your eyes not being able to stay awake for longer.

End of flashback~

'Darling?' snapped you back to reality Loki's deep voice. You blinked a few times before smiling down at him.

'Why?' you looked down on your joined hands with sadness filling up your lungs. He squeezed your small hand and sat up or at least tried. You quickly helped him up into a sitting position leaning his back to the headrest.

'Thor and I do not look at you like you are a servant, (Name). You have no title but that does not mean I cannot show my affections for you freely.' he tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind your ear with his slender fingers. Your eyes snapped back to his face with tears in your eyes.

'But I am not from a royal bloodline and there is the All-Father and your mother' you replied.

'I already approve' spoke up from the balcony door Frigga and walked inside. Your eyes widened in shock and surprise as you watched her walk closer to Loki's bed and sit on the other side. 'Why are you both so surprised? I am not easily fooled, my children and the way you two looked at each other while dancing on Thor's birthday gave away everything.'

'Mother, would you please inform me of your arrival at least next time?' Loki asked but you knew there was playfulness in his blue eyes.

'What fun is in that?' chuckled the blonde queen and made Loki smirk.

'I am glad you are here, mother' said the prince with adoration lacing his expression and voice. 'What about Astrina?'

'She is not interested in marrying you, Loki. She has someone back in her home she wishes to go back to' you spoke up.

'Oh, and what about that kiss she stole from you? Will she really leave Asgard?' narrowed his eyes your raven haired prince making you blush furiously and slap his arm.

'There is only one person I want to share a kiss with and that is definitely not her!' you protested. Both of them started laughing making you cross your arms in front of your chest and pout like a child with a blush covering your cheeks.

Time skip~

Days passed and Loki started getting annoying with every passing minute. Even if he was in no condition to stand he tried to get out of bed. It took you and Thor to get him back in bed obviously Thor was the muscle and you were the brains.

The morning sun lit up Loki's chambers with freshening sunlight making everything seem brighter and small particles of dust were swirling in the light. You sat on his bedside and tried to make him eat a bowl of warm oat meal porridge mixed with fruits.

'I hate plum' he turned his face away making you furrow your eyebrows at him.

'I got every little piece of damn plum out of it! Now eat it!' you replied angrily.

'They put plum in it and so it has the taste of plum!' he protested making you more furious.

'You know what?! Okay! You do not have to eat but I will not go for another bowl of meal to the kitchen!' you stood up and put the bowl on the cart next to the bed. 'I have duties to do and I am already late.'

'Fine! Go and sweep the ball room while I am being restrained in this damned bed and leave me to starve!' Loki huffed and crossed his arms on his chest. You sighed and sat back to your place.

'Loki, you just give that porridge a chance, okay?' you put a hand on his elbow closer to you. 'The feast for the new contracts with Niflheim is soon to be held and I was asked to help the other servants out today. Maybe I can sneak a normal meal up for you but I cannot promise anything, especially if your mother catches me.'

'Just please, promise me that you will try to steal something edible, love' he turned back to you pleading. You chuckled and nodded starting to lean in to kiss him. You didn't kiss since your first one. You decided to aim higher and your lips softly touched his forehead. When you pulled away you saw the disappointment in his blue eyes but he tried to hide it by looking down on his lap.

'I will try to be back by lunch' you sighed and hurried out of the door. You worked in the ball room preparing it for the large tables and decorations with your heart heavy with doubts. Did you really have to be so cold with Loki? Were you right about slowing down until he wouldn't be restrained by the engagement? Would Odin let him be with a servant? Could you hope and show your affections even if there was a big chance that you would never be able to be with him?

Soon it was lunch and so you sneaked into the kitchen and started collecting food without anyone noticing you. You put a big roasted duck leg, mashed potatoes and salad on a large plate. You put the plate on a tray with cutlery and a silver cover on the plate before hurrying out of the kitchen with your portion in your other hand. You finally arrived to Loki's chambers when someone called out to you making you freeze in your spot.

'(Name)!' came a servant girl up to you panting heavily. 'Oh, finally I found you.'

'Hey, is something wrong?' you asked hiding your nervousness. Frigga could appear anytime and you didn't think you would be able to get away with this.

'I just wanted to ask you to braid my hair tonight if that is possible' she blushed looking away. 'I h-have a date...'

'Oh! Of course' you chuckled and nodded. She thanked you and scurried away to whatever she needed to do. You sighed and entered Loki's room. You placed your plate on the cart next to Loki's bed before putting the tray in his lap. The raven haired prince was reading a thick book and he was so submerged in it that he didn't notice you entering only when he felt the pressure on his thighs did he look up from the book.

'I have a surprise for you' you winked at him lifting the cover from the plate and you heard his stomach growl with hunger.

'Thank you, (Name), thank you so much!' he cheered. 'I missed this so much!'

'I bet' you smiled at him. You grabbed your plate and started eating too. You were halfway through your plates when the door burst open. You almost dropped your plate but managed to balance it on your knees and snapped your head up to see Thor pant heavily as he looked at the two of you.

'The barbarians took Princess Astrina.'

To be continued...

#romance #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #mcu loki #loki x you #angst #thor #frigga #odin

[anotherghoul666]

I’m glad that my love and adoration for knives was conveyed in my last message. I assure you I would keep my eyes shut tight, I want to loose myself in the feeling, the pure helplessness of being at your mercy and yet trusting you to not make a fatal error. And trust you I do, despite having just met your words truley put me at ease despite the precarious situation.

So to answer your question, yes. It would be an honor to have a lasting tangible memento of such a night. I trust you will create something beautiful on my body, art I will admire for a long time to come and remember fondly.

-🗡

(obvious disclaimers for knives and blood)

To recieve such an amount of trust from you, dear knife anon, is an honor that I will carefully treasure and craddle. I do so hope that I will rise to the occasion for you and maintain said trust as we go, and I will work in this direction.

I'm glad to hear my own trust I placed in you to not open your eyes has been rewarded. You're obedient, and I mean, who wouldn't be when faced with a knife really, but you have obedience at your core, it's natural to you and I value that highly. You'll stay sat, immobile, careful when you move, eyes closed, by the sheer weight of my word and my command. No need for external force with you. You understand the value of the gift I bestow, you wouldn't want to risk missing out on it in any way.

Then if drawing blood has been agreed upon, let's see what I can come up. When you'll feel the sharpened delicate point of my blade scrape your skin, like a scratch at first, only the surface, no cuts yet, you'll wonder, what am I crafting? What is the image I want to permanently etch in your flesh? I'd say, since this is Ghost blog we met on after all, I'd assume an interest for the occult, if only in aesthetics? Now, to draw is not my main talent, I leave drawings to the visual artists of this works, I paint with words, so the designs I so lovingly want to carve into you won't be intricated or super detailed, but! I can efficiently transfer basic shapes and symbols into flesh. Would a pentagram be too on the nose? A lucifer's cross, somewhere intimate so it won't interfere with your daily life and risk impacting it negatively (aside from the pain and healing process of course ;) ) but you'll be able to look at it and remember me? I could craft a sigil for you, for us, for this, I make those, put intent into them, for your growth maybe, for you to attract the beautiful suffering and rapture you so crave more into your life. I do have a signature scar I make, that only very special people get to wear, and it requires care and maintenance for multiple sessions to set in just right. We've just met, but stand by my side for a long time and do good by me? We may discuss it later.

Yes for now, let's go with a sigil. I'll put it on the top of your thigh, the upper section close to the junction with your hip. Not hidden by underwear, but hidden by most clothes you would wear on the daily. You'll see it, and any future partner or people you so choose to undress for will see it, see the depth of our shared experience. I will start to lightly scrape your skin in the shape of my design. A sketching phase, if you will. So if it's not to my liking, this will heal and fade into nothingness and I can change for your other leg to have a fresh canvas. But I won't miss. You'll feel the scrape of the blade repeatedly, like a cat scratch, but over again on the same spots. Would you hold your breath? Would you, instead, force yourself to breathe deeply to process? What about when I'll line up my blade straight on the lingest of the sketch, and start to press in? Trace my line deliberately slow to ensure my sigil is clean edged when your skin splits lightly on either side of the knife, just a small cut for now, just the hint of small droplets of blood beading, because I don't go deep on a first pass. How will you breathe now? Now that I let adrenaline flood your nervous system finally, flood gates cut open with my knife. Now that I let endorphines start to build slowly, knowing full well the first 15-20 minutes of this will be the roughest part for you until your body's natural pain killer sets in. Will you shake? Will you quiver? Will you sit still? Will you clutch something? How do act under a knife, dear knife anon?

#asks #AnotherGhoul's confessional booth