#nose shaping exercise

[unproduciblesmackdown]

speaking of drawing people's faces and lifting any art of [will roland role based] characters overhead when you can tell the artist was actually trying to meaningfully use that inspiration beyond "brown hair. glasses" like wow once in a lifetime unsame as it ever was

not coming up a lot that Professional Illustrators are drawing will roland as [role] or like, in general, but that in fact there Are the examples of professional illustrator justin "squigs" robertson drawing him several times and it's like, doing stylized portraits of people working in theatre that are indeed focusing on distinguishable individuals versus, say, the style being more abstracted

all drawn differently but various gists are there, and none of the people in these group collages look interchangeable or like oh and this person gets thee "generic/default" look

there's also the fact i'm like 99% sure there's a squigs-drawn larger portrait of will roland just as himself that i love to think of / sure further encapsulates that "thank god this artist drawing Features" but i can't find it or remember exactly what context it was in. augh

but also there's this other deh illustration ft. wrol jared i found lol. bonus

#sooo replenishing #and like the issue pointed out that the excuse of [skill issue] is offered like It's Really Not A Skill Issue #someone can be very inexperienced at say; drawing; and still Evidently be actually trying to capture something Actually There in whatever #their model is. me as a like 5 yr old on the level of [yes all faces Are abstracted as =) ] still for example clearly depicting my mom's #usual hairstyle in my crayon portraits there #these examples here the polar opposites of The Nose Issue lol like stylized simplified And Yet still all clearly downturned #even the stylization leaning more convex nose bridge than that concave upturned nose slapped on anyone's face #deh #will roland #bmc #and forever the idea that Stylized Simplified drawing techniques are easy / bad but like it sure af is neither #you can note 'ah i see that this experienced artist's drawings are not photorealistic; formed of what i can tell are simple lil lines even' #but then be thrown off b/c of course it Looks easy but their lines are afforded a Casualness in their execution from their experience #knowing how to form and place them to give it that [Looks Good] without it being a painstaking &/or [9000 tries & errors] process for them #and like sure then anyone can Recreate it but you can throw yourself off thinking you Ought to be able to straightup Create It similarly... #like copying these obviously simplified stylized Faces made up of varying Shapes as seen here? prob a fun & neat & helpful exercise #especially if one's just working on breaking out of the ''i draw a Default Face for Everyone'' kind of situation #the exaggerated swoops and hard angles Geometry of compositions and forms overall is also a v fun element used here

[laulink]

The consequences of wielding magic in Fodlan

That’s a headcanon of mine I’m quite fond of (and that I reference in my latest one-shot) : the idea that wielding magic does come with side-effects, but instead of the scars that we sometimes see in fanarts (which are cool, I’m not saying otherwise), those side-effects are hidden, almost invisible, and vary a bit depending on the type of magic you wield. More to the point, it’s not your skin that your magic attacks, it’s your nerves.

The idea is that magic is a form of energy and you generate it yourself, then gather it, usually in your hands, to cast spells ; but just like wielding a sword or an axe often over a long period of time will cause callouses to form on your hands (skin getting damaged by your use of a weapon and being remade thicker so it can’t be damaged again), wielding magic will damage your nerves over time and progressively lead you to lose part or all of your sensitivity over areas of varying sizes.

The thing is, sensitivity isn’t just “feeling touch”, it’s also “being able to identify if something is cold or hot” (or thermoception, which also tells you how cold or hot it is so you can know when it gets too much and avoid getting hurt) as well as being able to “feel how your limbs are positioned” (proprioception).

Those different sides of sensitivity already vary between people (some will be more sensitive to heat than others) and can also be altered by the things that happen to you (a surgery might cause you to lose part of your superficial sensitivity around the area you had the surgery on, like your wrist, which is called hypoesthesia, or on the contrary when the nerves reform they’ll overcompensate and you’ll be hypersensitive, to the point of feeling pain from the lightest touch, which is called hyperesthesia). Of course, in Fodlan, your use of magic can have a similar effect.

Fire and ice magic users (like Marianne) will first be desensitised from heat/cold because the temperature of their magic will get their hands and arms used to higher or lower temperatures and they’ll progressively stop registering them, meaning that the first sign a fire using mage is starting to feel the side-effects is that they won’t notice that a stove-top is too hot to put your hand on and get burned. But their nerves’s deterioration won’t stop just because they don’t feel heat so well anymore and, over the years, they’ll progressively lose the rest of their sensitivity.

Lighting users (like Dorothea) have electricity running down their arms when they conjure up spells and electricity is what is used to send messages by the nerves to the brain, so it will rapidly come to affect all types of sensitivity, but often the first one to be visibly impacted is the ability to feel touch/pressure.

Wind users (like Linhardt) will also lose all types of sensitivity at the same rate, though it tends to affect their proprioception a little earlier than the rest (feeling of weightlessness comes with wind and offsets the nerves).

In a similar, yet opposite manner, black magic users (like Hubert) will also lose proprioception first, then the rest at roughly the same speed, but this time it’s not because of a feeling of weightlessness but a feeling of heavyness from the miasma that is black magic. 

Light magic (like Manuela’s) is a special case because it will cause the caster to lose their vision first (not directly through the magic altering their nerves but because the casters will be exposed to their spells’ particularly strong light) and, after a while, progressively lose the different types of sensitivity at roughly the same rate. It’s the type of magic that is slowest to deteriorate the casters’ nerves.

Lastly, white magic : it cannot actually heal the damage done to the nerves (it’s too complex), but it tries, and the more you use it and slightly damage your nerves with it, the more it will try to heal you as much as the person you’re trying to heal, the more sensitive you’ll become, causing hyperesthesia on an area of varying size.

For all those side effects, there is a cure : not using magic anymore for as long as it takes your nerves to heal (and avoiding any contact, even cloth, on the area impacted if you have hyperesthesia). Depending on how much damage was done, it can take a long time : if the caster doesn’t feel anything up to their elbow, knowing nerves grow back at a similar speed to your hair, you’re looking at a good year of “no magic” to regain your sensitivity.

Stimulation can help with the recovery, which means it can also help slow down the deterioration process while you are still practicing magic : the exercises will vary depending on the type(s) of sensitivity you’re trying to stimulate, but it’s not too complicated to figure out so most mages come up with their own exercices to fit with their lifestyle and available materials and tools.

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes #theory #headcanon #Hubert's exercise for proprioception is to make a shape with one hand and try to replicate it with the other without looking #when he starts losing his ability to feel touch he starts carrying around a spiked ball in his pocket #he fidgets with it during down time or private meetings with Edelgard who is the only one he tells about the extent of the damage #Manuela's use of light magic isn't intensive enough for her to really suffer any side effect before the war in either game #but by the time the war is in full swing she has to use glasses to read #Dorothea loses her ability to feel touch and takes to massaging her hands/having Edie massage them (Edelthea shipper here) #it's also Edie's idea to use a paintbrush to stimulate her nerves and she gifts one to Dorothea #but when her nerves get too damaged to feel the paintbrush she moves on to a spiked ball (Hubert's gift) #Linhardt suffers from both lack of proprioception that makes him clumsy and hyperesthesia #when the latter becomes too much he holes up in his room to avoid contact with the others and limit stimulation to his hands #he's become a master of turning book pages with his nose

[mycenaae]

anyway the goblin antagonist of hogwarts legacy is, yes, the ultimate antagonist, works with dark wizards to harvest (or steal previously harvested? unclear in the summary i read) magical energy from wizards including children — there's, allegedly, a scene where they explicitly discuss abducting a child. the antagonism is first framed as the goblin wanting to reclaim goblin-made artifacts and magic but is later revealed as an enterprise of personal greed for the goblin, who steals all the power for himself at the end of the game and turns into a dragon (you know, a giant lizard). this is the big plot of the game, is the goblin and his associated evil characters stealing an essence from children for their personal evil magical use, and then at the end of the game, the goblin turns into a big lizard. hogwarts legacy really is antisemitic tropes: the video game.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy for ts #antisemitism / #nat.txt #this game has everything! blood libel! hook nosed caricatures! secret lizard people! transphobia! #literally no amount of toothless nostalgia is worth supporting this game. #aside from the fact that buying it financially supports jk rowling the entire plot is an exercise in antisemitism #i don't care how much you loved harry potter as a child. i don't care how it shaped your life. this is vile and cruel-minded top to bottom #''the devs aren't jkr'' no but they did make this piece of shit game so they're not exactly progressively minded are they. #anyway i am maintagging this because i want to spoil it for all the babies in the tag. #if your political alliances with marginalized people end at a video game you deserve to have the ending ruined for you.

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

Skeleton monsters

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(Please do not repost or use my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you <3)

.

Now that my arm is mostly better and I can draw again, I decided to draw a bunch of skeletons to get back in the groove!

Our three resident skeletons (if you could even call gaster one) and then a bunch of other skeletons to just play around with features, to explore what it might look like if there were more skeletons in the underground. Bilbo was a bonus face for reference

#deersart #deers doodles #my art #fanart #this was mostly a drawing exercise to get myself back in the groove #undertale #i was gonna draw a bunch of other skeletons from other medias but I didn’t want to have to find them all- and tag all their related fandoms #sans #papyrus #w. d. gaster #tusks- sockets- noses- fangs- there’s a lot more I definitely could’ve played with #like a lot #who says skeleton monsters have to be human shaped #or human skeletons #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #ask me to tag stuff #or remove tags #i don’t mind

[cat-arsenal]

Canon Dirk vs Slut AU Dirk

#picrew #dirk featherforge #it's fun to think about but in no way canon #he could never #character design #very fun exercise! #same face nose mouth eye ear body shape #but changes in color and eyebrow and clothes and vibes change the whole thing

[felinefractious]

Do you consider brachycephalism in cats as serious as in dogs? I'm in veterinary medicine but I don't encounter many brachy kitties and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Brachycephaly is a problem.

Schlueter et al (2009) categorized brachycephalic head shapes into four categories randing from mild to severe.

Moderate brachycephaly is where we begin to really see problems and profound or severe brachycephalic cats are going to have a real issue.

The British Shorthair (left) is a breed where mild brachycephaly is part of the standard compared to an Exotic Shorthair (right) where profound - severe brachycephaly is desireable.

On the left with have a British Shorthair, in the center an Exotic Shorthair and on the right a Persian.

One of the problems we see with brachycephalic breeds is stenotic nares, which are narrow nostrils. You can’t even make out the nares on the Persian shown above and, as one may expect, this affects how much air they move through them.

We can see similar obstructive effects in cats with nasopharyngeal polyps, masses or reconstruction due to scarring from chronic rhinosinusitis problems.

Due to their inability to breath normally through their nose these cats tend to be heat and exercise intolerant and can run into trouble more quickly during high stress events.

Stenotic nares can be surgically corrected but I don’t think this is as common in cats as it is in dogs, at least I haven’t encountered many cats who’ve undergone the procedure. I don’t know if it’s not as necessary, if cats don’t respond as well or if cat owners are less likely to seek treatment.

Or maybe it is as common and my lack of experience is the outlier.

Brachycephaly is also associated with malocclusion and dental disease, chronic epiphora, facial dermatitis related to the chronic tearing and ocular issues such as conreal sequestrum or entropion related to the protruding eye structure.

I know globe proptopsis is a problem in some brachycephalic dog breeds like pugs but I haven’t heard of this specifically happening in brachycephalic cat breeds.

Exotics and Persians are obviously the worst when it comes to brachycephaly in cats but the Bombay and (American) Burmese are also offenders.

There are other breeds which don’t call for a brachycephalic head shape (or even default it) or call for only a mild version but certain breeders are selecting for extreme typeing anyways because even though their cats might not win any shows they can sell them as designer variants for more.

On the left we have a Sphynx and in the right we have a Devon Rex both with an extreme head type contradictory to the breed standard.

So yes, unfortunately the brachycephalic head type is a problem in cats. Some try to argue that brachycephalic animals often live long lives which means the abnormal structure isn’t a problem… but longevity is only one measure of a breeds ethical soundness, quality of life and history are also important in my opinon.

#anonymous #asks #cat breeds

[charlottemorningstarsdarling]

𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔢

pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader

summary: Alastor comforts his little doe to sleep

warning: none! just some fluff and ooc Alastor:)

No one knew of Alastor’s little nightly ritual. After everyone went to sleep, he made his way down to the bar for a cold glass of whiskey. To clear his head and have some silence to himself.

Except, he wasn’t alone tonight…

Y/N was somewhat new at the Hazbin Hotel. She arrived in hell confused, disoriented and alone. She was wandering around the Vee tower, when she spotted the commercial on one of the televisions. A shelter she could go to. The Hazbin family took her in quickly and she enjoyed being there, she wasn’t cold, hungry, nor alone anymore. She was a big help to Charlie too, always helping her with the redemption exercises.

Alastor took notice of her the second he saw her. A deer like him, except that he was a big scary buck and she was a lovely doe. He never made a move on her, afraid that he would mess even a tiny bit with her sensitive little heart. But, he would always do little gestures for her. Helping her out here and there, and always stocking up on those little heart shaped chocolates she liked.

But back to tonight.

While he was on his way to the bar, he heard a little sniff from the parlor, he felt his heart tighten when he saw the doe curled up on the couch. Her little fluffy ears were hanging low and her pink nose was twitching sadly.

She didn’t even see the Radio Demon coming down, and her eyes widened when she heard his static voice.

“Is everything alright, my doe?” When she looked up, he was towering over her curled up position, and looking down at her with that lovey-dovey gaze, a rare sight to see.

“I’m okay, no biggie.” She tried to mush a smile onto her face, but he saw right through her.

He took a seat next to her and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to her, which she took gratefully.

“Don’t be shy. Feel free to tell me whatever is hurting your little heart.” When he said this, the dam broke. Her tears started flowing down her cheeks, and her lips were morphed into an adorable pout. “Oh, little doe.” He gathered her up in his arms and put her on his lap, she put her head on his chest. He felt her body shaking as she weeped in his arms.

His clawed hands gently caressed the top of her head, stroking her soft ears that were connected to her fluffy hair.

He spoke again, when her shaking lessened.

“Do tell, my dear, what got you so upset?” He said while he positioned her head, so she was looking up at him.

“I just had a long day. I was out, because Charlie needed more colored pencils and some guy on the street started talking to me.” Her lips wobbled again at the memory.

“What did he say?” He let her rest on his chest, and this way, she couldn’t see the way his face was turning into a more demonic expression. Who dared to h̴̩͛͒͆͑̐̄͂̀͝͝u̵͓͚̖͍͎͒̾̽́̈́̚̚͘ŗ̵̟͚̝͇͗̒̋́́̈́̀́t̵̨̤̺̟̳̝̔́̕͠ͅ ̷͈̩̔̾̐̾͐̂̑̕͜͝͠ḧ̷̨̖̪̲́͂̂̏́̈́̆͝ị̴̧̠̺͉̫͇̞̙̽̈ͅs̴̡̖͓̠͋̓̏̈́̒̕͘ ̶̳̳̘̘͚̭̳̟̪͙̏l̷̬̻̯͉̐̈́̃͘i̵̛̥̞̙̠̪̮̻t̴̡͎̮̬͍̦͕͑̐͗̈́̾̐͝ţ̷͎̥̪̻͕̠͓͉͈̇̈́̈͗̚̚l̴͉̎̿̐̇̆́͒́̆̃e̴͍̣̼̓ ̶̢̗͍̟͈̹̉̉̇͜d̶͙͉̻̗͚̬̦͎̖̖̂̀͊͝ơ̶̛̲̩̻͕̤̙̜̹͓̂͠ͅe̵͙̳̙̻̫̱̅͑͝?

“Disgusting things…”

He leaned back, so she was laying on his lap. With a snap of his fingers, a soft blanket was on her. “Well, you deserve to be treated nicely and gently.” He looked down into her doe eyes. “Don’t listen to those awful people, but if they dare to say another nasty word to you, just tell me. And I’ll make sure they won’t speak another word in their pathetic afterlife ever again.”

She smiled softly and snuggled between his shoulder blade and neck. She spoke with a sweet whisper. “Thank you, Alastor, truly.”

“No need, as I said, you deserve all the lovely things.” Her soft hair was tickling his neck, and he found himself nuzzling more into it.

“Sleep now, I’ll make sure to guard your dreams.” But he realized that her face was already relaxed and her breaths were even. He planted a kiss on her head, and her ears flattened from the softness of his lips.

“Good night, my doe.”

Yes, tomorrow he will make sure to find that bitch that disrespected her and hunt him down.

#alastor x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor fluff #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc

[gyllenhaalstories]

COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you

[klaunee]

Edit 2/12/2024: I wanted to add a disclaimer to my redesigns! I really appreciate all of the likes and comments that these have garnered, but I just want to add that these aren't intended to be "improvements" or "fixes" of the original designs in any way and were done as a character design exercise for my own entertainment. Looking back on them there's a lot I'd like to change about them and I'd never claim to be anything more than an amateur/hobbyist character designer messing around with these character concepts. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Redesign of most of the main cast of Hazbin Hotel + Lucifer for fun and all that. I enjoy seeing other people's interpretations of these characters and wanted to try my hand at it. Elaboration below the cut.

(warning for some potential spoilers for Season 1 below)

Charlie

As you can see, the gist of my redesigns is exaggerating the qualities of whatever the character is supposed to be. In this case, I thought Charlie lacked qualities that identified her as a demon, and so I gave her permanent horns and a more goat-like appearance. I also gave her angel wings for a unique look and to identify her as Lucifer's daughter. Realistically these could be bat wings instead, since Lucifer was historically depicted as having said wings, but I thought the angel wings combined with demonic features would give her a unique appearance. Her outfit is inspired by bellhops and magicians. I wanted her to be based on a type of performer in the same vein as her parents, with Lucifer's supposed ringmaster theme and Lilith being a diva. This is also why I gave her red nose paint, because to me, her red cheeks and white face make her look clown-like. I gave her round shapes to represent her sweet personality while her overall body type is lanky in a somewhat awkward way, trying to depict her as a bit dorky. I made her hair a bit more prominent for a princess-y look.

Vaggie

Vaggie's moth qualities have been exaggerated here. I'm aware of the theories that she's actually not a moth demon but rather a fallen angel, but I wanted to disregard that because I really like bugs. She has four arms, black eyes, antennae, and her hair is actually a pair of functional wings. Her hair-wings have four "eye spots" on them that are actually functional eyes similar to Sir Pentious. Shape-wise I wanted to show her as a more combative, assertive character, with blocky arms and a shorter and wider physique compared to Charlie. I gave her a modern outfit with a fluffy jacket reminiscent of a moth's neck fluff.

Alastor

I gave Alastor a complete overhaul. My biggest gripe with his design is that he's not intimidating in the slightest and yet we're meant to interpret him as fearsome. Although I enjoy the idea of a character who is not physically intimidating while still being a powerful force, I wanted to depict Alastor as outwardly frightening while retaining the idea that he's underestimatable because... his entire body is shadow! Rather than having that Dr. Facilier expy (/j) shadow companion he has, I decided to make it so Alastor is actually the shadow himself. This grants him a plethora of abilities like a greater range of movement, intangibility, etc. I imagine he was disoriented when he first spawned in hell as nothing but a shadow, but slowly found that this could be exploited and became extremely powerful. His staff is based on a vintage style of microphone with the center modified to look like an inverted pentagram. No Voodoo iconography here. The skull itself does not move, rather the red light in his eye flickers in time with his voice. Outfit-wise, he's wearing a basic vintage suit with a boater hat to identify him as being from the 1920's. Of course, the most significant part of his design is his antlers, which are greatly underwhelming in his canon design (disregarding his "true form" which is still weak in my opinion). In addition to giving him a dramatic silhouette, these antlers can be manipulated by him as a pair of appendages similar to hands.

Angel Dust

I didn't change much about Angel Dust. I think he has a nice design. I just tried to make him a bit more spider-like, with pedipalps, extra eyes, and an abdomen. I tried to make the abdomen small so it's essentially like a cottontail. I modified his legs a bit like I did Vaggie's so they're bent in a way similar to bug legs. His suit has a bit more dimension to it as well. I initially wanted to make the stripes vertical for a true pinstripe suit, but the horizontal ones ultimately won out. The most notable part of his physique is his legs like it is in his canon version, but I tried to make all of his limbs longer as well.

Lucifer

This one was very self-indulgent. I wanted to make Lucifer more father-like in appearance to try and diversify the shapes of male characters in this show, similar to how I gave Alastor a stocky build. With a stouter appearance he is simultaneously less and more imposing depending on how he's depicted. I think it'd be nice if his wings were a permanent element of his design. I gave him a broken halo, which he obscures with his top hat. I modified his outfit while still retaining the ringmaster appearance, giving him a long, flowing cape for a dramatic look. He has a cane in the shape of a golden snake which can actually move freely if he wills it. I based his hair a bit on famous carnie P.T. Barnum, and I think he'd have a similar characterization as Barnum too, being an outwardly magnanimous and lovable leader while in reality wanting nothing more than to encourage hedonism, chaos and sin in his subjects. His pointy beard and moustache come from depictions of Mephistopheles. Like Charlie, I gave him red nose paint because like I said, they've got clown vibes. Charlie inherits her goat features from Lilith, who I did not draw (yet).

Thank you for reading!

I'm not 100% on these redesigns but I enjoyed the exercise. I may redo them eventually.

I'd also like to do more of these, especially Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hellaverse #alastor #charlie morningstar #charlie magne #vaggie #angel dust #hazbin hotel au

[flawseer]

Jade Mountain Academy students

#2 - Icewing chapter

Winter, Prince

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Jade

Color - White and matte silver

Relatives - Princess Icicle (sister)

Clawmate(s) - Qibli (Sandwing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Literacy

Physical characteristics - corona-like crest of spines, shape and length irregular; well-defined musculature, average size

Other characteristics - owns pet scavenger (named "Bandit"), scavenger seems prone to escape (suggest pet care seminar); socially irritable (within reasonable parameters, may subside with acclimatization); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

Icicle, Princess

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Gold

Color - White

Relatives - Prince Winter (brother)

Clawmate(s) - Sora (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - Exercise

Least fav. subject - Cultural Exchange

Physical characteristics - corona-like crest of spines, shape and length even; well-defined musculature, average size; very meticulously groomed

Other characteristics - socially domineering (no rule infractions, but suggest monitoring); washes talons and legs very often (possibly germophobic); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar); spotted loitering near staff offices several times (suggest monitoring)

Changbai

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Sky blue and white

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Boto (Rainwing), Thrush (Skywing)

Favorite subject - Art

Least fav. subject - Anatomy

Physical characteristics - split/branching horns; oblong body shape, long limbs, very tall and slender; currently greatest size of all students (measured from nose to tail tip)

Other characteristics - unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar); most legible handwriting

Alba

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Copper

Color - White and light gray

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Mindreader (Nightwing), Snail (Seawing)

Favorite subject - History

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - horns twist up- and inward; slightly small size with average build

Other characteristics - appears fixated on Prince Winter and Princess Icicle (within socially acceptable parameters so far, but suggest monitoring); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

Ermine

Tribe - Icewing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Light purple

Relatives - none on site

Clawmate(s) - Newt (Mudwing)

Favorite subject - Science

Least fav. subject - Exercise

Physical characteristics - dull and worn spines and scales; size average, weight near but within the upper limit of normal range

Other characteristics - socially anxious, state of spines implies nervous scraping habit (suggest counseling); reported friction with current clawmate (suggest monitoring, consider transfer to different sleeping cave); unnaturally rigid sitting posture (suggest relaxation seminar)

#wings of fire #wof #dragon #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #wof winter #wof icewing #wof icicle #wof changbai #wof alba #wof ermine #jade mountain academy #wof bandit

[superhero--imagines]

What’s Your Type, Ft: Sanji, Ace and Shanks.

A/N: I don’t know what y’all like more, these ugly ass banners or me roasting you for liking them.

* A woman

* Any woman. As long as they’re young, pretty and consenting

* I kinda get bi vibes from Sanji tbh. Very ‘slightly-homophobic-because-l’m-secretary-inclined-that-way’ vibes

* Anyone that will take him

* Real talk though, I feel like he just wants someone who’s nice—someone who accepts him as he is and doesn’t want to change him

* Honestly to win his love all you have to do is tell him you like him first

“Sanji?”

His eyes flit to where you’re sitting while he washes the dishes, acknowledging you with an uncharacteristic grunt. Usually he’d pay more attention, but right now all he can think about is finishing these dishes and getting to bed.

“What’s your type?”

The dish clatters into the sink.

“What was that my love?” His ears must be playing tricks on him. It’s from all the ear damage he takes from hearing Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper scream all day.

“What’s your type.”

The blood comes straight out of his nose. A vivid flash of curves and full hips and lush thighs dance in the air as you stumble over and do your best to plug his nose.

And then he sees your sweet face, the goofiest grin spreading on his lips.

“You, obviously.”

* I picked that picture because that’s how I imagine he looks when you ask him that question

* He’s never really thought about it before

* Before you he didn’t really think romance had much of a place in his life outside of the occasional girl who threw him a flirtatious glance or a courtesan who propositioned him

“You?” He says, gulping down the mouthful of food he’d been chewing when you decided to spring the out-of-pocket question.

Your expression tells him you’re not satisfied with lip service.

He has to think about it, his fork and knife abandoned in favor of dedicating all his mental energy to the question you just asked.

“Someone cheerful who smiles and makes me smile, sweet and easy to talk with too.” He picks up his fork, his mental exercise seemingly done.

“Someone with nice, shapely, soft thighs too.” He says taking another bite of food.

“So like I said—you.”

* He has been waiting his entire life to get this question

* When he started taking off as a pirate with his wanted posters plastered in every town, he used to practice this question in case he ever ran into a reporter that asked

* Even though he’s trying to hide his grin with a well timed sip of his drink, he can’t seem to contain himself

“I’ve never really thought about it.” You can tell by the sparkles floating in the air and hai shit eating grin that he’s lying.

“Someone a little clumsy, with a lot kindness, and a gentle maternal aura. But also someone that’s strong, that can protect the things they care about.” He grins taking a sip of his drink like he’s pacing out his answer on a talk show.

You’re starting to think he’s been practicing this answer in the mirror when he’s bored.

“It’s a good thing I found someone like that, huh?”

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji #sanji imagine #ace x reader #ace x y/n #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you

[being-addie]

The Glow Up Game

Part One: Pretty on the Outside

A comprehensive guide to getting your shit together. You heard me. We are done standing on the sidelines, looking at people living their dream lives being rich and hot and happy. WE'RE DONE.

This is a long guide, filled with pointers covering EVERYTHING regarding physical glow-ups. I'll be editing it and reblogging it whenever I come across new ideas and information. It covers everything from head to toe. I mean this literally.

Note: This is for people who want to do glow up physically. It is totally your choice to do anything you want to/don't want to on this list. We live in a world full of unfair beauty standards, and instead of being angry about it, I'm going to exploit the hell out of it.

Are you ready to change yourself? Here we go.

The absolute basics: These are lifestyle changes you're going to implement. Non-negotiable.

Go exercise: Don't look at me like that. This isn't optional. Find a way to move your body so you like it and you're actually breaking a sweat. Leisurely walking on the treadmill does not count, half-hearted zumba does not count. Whatever you're doing, it has to make you SWEAT. A good figure is earned. Trust me when I say you'll feel better, and like what you see in the mirror.

Change your diet: Enough sugar. Toss the soda out, and chuck out your candy stash. You really don't need it. Craving something sweet? Make a batch of healthy, homemade dessert. Or have a piece of fruit. I'm not kidding when I say the kitchen is where you make the biggest lifestyle change. It will be HARD, but every McChicken you say no to, is good for your HEALTH. You want to live longer? Cut out the takeout and heavily processed foods.

Fix your sleep cycle: Sleep is so important, and I think people overlook it so much. All your hard work is wasted if you don't sleep well. Your skin will break out, and your body will refuse to change even if you exercise. SLEEP WELL. Create a nighttime routine and stick to it. Make sure you have at least 7 hours of sleep as a minimum.

Create a skincare routine: Take off your makeup every day. And have a good skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize and apply whatever you usually do. Exfoliate twice a week and stop touching your face. I also drink an ABC smoothie (Apple+Beetroot+Carrot+Water). This does wonders.

Use sunscreen: I cannot stress this enough. Skin cancer is real, and it will get you if you don't wear sunscreen. Use something higher than SPF 50 and use it religiously. Make sure to get your earlobes, chest and back of your neck. Cover every inch of your skin that will be exposed to the sun.

Drink your water: 3 litres of water per day. You will be amazed at the results. Your skin will clear, your breath won't stink and you won't be dehydrated. This shit works, and there's a reason everyone recommends it. Drink your water.

Moving on to each itty-bitty detail.

Eyes: SLEEP. You want your eyes to look fresh? No pesky dark circles? Get your sleep cycle right. No more late nights. Hot girls sleep on time.

Nose: Those blackhead-looking things are natural, they're called sebaceous filaments. And, no you can't get rid of them. But you can minimize them. Cleanse, moisturize and exfoliate. Don't pick at your skin.

Lips: Don't bite them anymore, for God's sake. You're going to make sure they're chapped beyond belief. Use lip balm religiously and don't overuse lipstick. Your lips WILL get discoloured when you're older. Use a light lip tint, and lip balm/gloss.

Eyebrows: If you want to shape them, go to the hairdresser and get it done.

Facial hair: As someone with naturally dark, thick hair I have a lot of noticeable facial hair. I'm planning on getting it lasered soon. Find a way that works for you and is affordable.

Body hair: I have zero self-consciousness about my arm and leg hair, so I have no desire to shave or wax it. I do wax my underarms, because of ridiculously thick growth. Understand that this is a personal choice, and you do not have to do this if you're unwilling.

Nails: Keep them short or long, always filed and CLEAN. Do not let grime or dirt build-up underneath. Don't keep your nails painted 24/7, it will 100% lead to yellowing. Give your nails some time to breathe between every manicure. When they aren't painted, keep them filed and presentable.

Hair: I have Type 3a curly hair, so my hair routine is tailored to suit me. But what I can tell you is wash your hair at least 1x a week, use sun protectant, and oil your hair before wash day(it works). And use heat on your hair SPARINGLY. If you want to colour you can, but remember it does lead to long term damage, brittleness and bad texture. Get your hair cut every 3-4 months with a trusted hairdresser. Keep switching up hairstyles and do not stick to a single part (middle part, side part) constantly because it can lead to thinning of hair there.

Acne: STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE I am begging you. Touching your face with grimy hands is a recipe for acne. Cleanse everyday, moisturize heavily and go to a dermatologist if it gets worse.

THIS LIST WILL BE UPDATED

Go live your best life. You deserve everything, and you shouldn't let anything stand in your way, not even yourself. Now GO, you've got shit to do.

xoxo

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #routine #self development #personal development #self growth #wellness #leveling up #level up tips #leveling up tips #leveling up journey #dream girl journey #dream girl #becoming that girl #girl blogger #girlblogging #habits #list #long

[bardic-inspo]

Dhampir Dreams

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Generic/Unnamed)

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Key Tags: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, body worship, light dom/sub, light bondage, light praise kink, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dacryphilia, cunnilingus, PIV, Astarion’s past trauma, smut with so many feelings but nearly no plot, character introspection

Summary:

Tav saw beauty in Astarion he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like. Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her. Or: an angsty-turned-horny character study about the pale elf and his thoughts on creating new (un)life.

A/N: This is my first stab at writing a more generic Tav. Tav in this piece is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Most other identifying features are left out.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Astarion’s never thought much about making another vampire.

In the rare moments the notion occurred to him, he shoved it to the far back shelf of his mind so as not to waste himself on an exercise in futility. What did it matter, after all, while Cazador still lorded over him?

More than anything, Astarion yearned to see Cazador’s blood spill. In his mind’s eye, he’d watch it pool across the floor, not unlike the way he'd seen so much clothing puddled at so many heels. The lake he’d make of his master would be wide enough to swallow the garments of all who’d stripped bare before Astarion. Every sweat-soaked night he found himself bound to another moldering mattress beneath someone else’s weight, rocking through the motions that left his stomach sour, he’d fill his mind with such sweet dreams as Cazador’s death.

Whether Cazador would allow Astarion to drink his blood before being relieved of it varied with the fantasy. The dream changed as often as the hands on Astarion’s hips. It mattered little to him whether Cazador’s end came with true vampirism or not. As long as he ended. 

As long as the vile river of shit that comprised Astarion’s life ended, one way or another. For better. Or for good.

Of course, he flirted with the fantasy of his own spawn, sent out like skittering spiders to dispense his will. Foul little monsters they would be. Fine tools to have in his arsenal; Astarion would only want such wretches of his own the way one might want a hammer to pound a nail. And what he wanted didn’t hold any weight while bound in Cazador’s chains.

So the idea recoiled into the dusty recesses of his mind, collecting cobwebs kitty-corner to such out of reach trophies as freedom from his servitude to Cazador and the sun itself. Both still gleamed, despite the tarnish of time and hope rusted over. Despite Astarion’s prayers, no heroes came to save him. No gods or slayers or saviors spared him from his servitude. 

Until the illithids did.

Despite everything -- the centuries of torment, the hollow where his heart should be, its silence in his ribcage, the scars on his back, the thousands of other lashes that Cazador let fade from his porcelain skin -- Astarion did the one thing Cazador could never.

He stood in the sun. And on the sands of that same beach, another miracle washed ashore. A contradiction. His counterweight to everything else he’d ever known.

Tav.

Astarion’s hands roam the supple shape of her nestled against his bare chest. Her breath crests and falls soft and rhythmic, like the gentle slap of waves against the cliffs where they first found each other. His darling is always so serene in her sleep. Astarion dips his head down, nosing her splayed hair on the pillow, drinking in the lovely scent of lavender that always lingers with his lover.

Often, he wakes before her, as he does now in the dim blue light of dusk. Not yet dark enough for him to step outside, but for the moment, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be. Not even in the raw, rippling light of day.

The smell of her has his eyelids heavy again, the steady patter of her heartbeat hypnotic in his head. His hands curve over the flare of her hips before slipping beneath the hem of her tunic. He stifles the satisfied hum that bubbles in the back of his throat as his palm smooths down the lithe stretch of her stomach. He resettles with his nose in the crook of her neck, eyelashes grazing the twin puncture scars that mark her as his.

He’d thought, once, that he’d ascend and have her at his side for an eternity. He was scared. Frantic. Grasping. He thought he had to grasp at something, fashion some sort of tether, to have her. Thought he had to have power, and enough of it, to keep her. Now he holds her every morning in the bed they share, until day becomes night again. It’s as effortless as blinking.

Now, the thought of turning Tav into a vampire turns his stomach.

His lips brush, tender, to the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He loves those marks he gave her. He loves the way her fingertips tap against them when she’s lost in thought. He loves the way she arches into his arms as he feeds, the way her body gives and gives to him alone. That sleepy, slap-happy smile she has when he’s lapped his last for the evening. The way her eyes roll back, and she gasps, breathless, as he kisses a trail from her neck to a nipple and sucks fervently.

He loves that he’s marked her, but that it didn’t change her. He can still curl into the heat of her skin at night. Still watch her preen in a mirror. Still stare at those gorgeous eyes and know the shade of them is hers. Her cheeks still turn the shade of sunrise when he leans in with a lustful whisper, or grazes her waist with a feather-light touch.

Absently, his fingers follow the path of an old scar on her stomach. At its end, he finds the start of softness. Astarion loves that, too. She didn’t used to be soft there, when they were just surviving. They’re not just surviving anymore.

Perhaps he’s changed her after all. It’s not so scary anymore to admit she’s turned him, too. Not to the light, or anything so nauseatingly righteous. But rather, so Astarion could see himself in it. Even if his days of standing in the sun are done.

I’ll be your mirror, she vowed, what feels like another lifetime ago. She smiled in that fond way of hers that, at the time, hurt to look at too long. He scoffed at her poetic ruminations on his hair curling near his ears. The creases when he laughs. 

Tav saw beauty in him he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like.

Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her.

He’s thought of Tav as a mother before. It flitted through his mind when Astarion watched her ease Arabella’s pounding heart with the gentleness of her own. That feeling lingered when Yenna joined their camp, and Astarion caught Tav teaching her cards. Combing the snarls from the girl’s hair. Coaching her in the basics of swordplay.

She’d be a wonderful mother. Astarion has no doubts in that regard. And he, well…

He doesn’t have an example to look back on, or one to look up to. But he has his compass. Tav’s heart beats, sure and steady, in his ear. That sound’s guided him through so much else. How could he lose his way for long, if there were two pitter-patters to listen to? 

His palm paints cool over that blooming softness in her stomach. An ache burns in his own. The sort of hunger her blood won’t sate. Would she taste even sweeter, he wonders, with her body rounded and swollen? 

Of course she would. So hard to improve something so perfect already. But she’d be radiant, if she were ripe with their child.

And after, when their babe is born, and her body is new all over again, he'd love every line, every fold, every mark that came from their coupling. He’d worship every part of her that was remade by the two of them to make the three of them. Marvel at the way the same body that first truly fed him would feed their child, too. 

He’d help her find her way back to pleasure in her own way, in her own time. Just as she did for him. His Tav gives, and gives, and he’d give her anything, everything, for the rest of his days, if a wretch like him would be so stupidly blessed to be the father of her child.

Astarion pulls a breath between his teeth, his nose flooding with her floral scent again. That would change, too. She’d carry new notes in her sweat, in her slick, in her blood, while carrying their babe. Astarion wants to taste them all, to learn what songs she can sing while he does.

Instinctually, he presses to the plump of her ass to soothe the building stiffness in his cock. He plants a muted hum in the fabric of the pillow. His groin throbs to the thump-thump of his compass, beating oblivious beneath her ribs.

He pictures pouring into her, night after night, his spend spilling in little translucent rivers down her slicked thighs, overflowing from her cunt. Too much for her to hold in, but she’d take him as long as it takes until life sparks inside of her. Tav’s determined in all her undertakings. Resilient. 

And in his dreams, she’s pliant. Pleading. 

“Star, please.”

She’s trembling in that slinky, translucent nightgown she wears to bed sometimes. The one that hardly hides her skin, but cloaks it in a delectable, silvery sheen. He likes it too much to ruin it. Or at least, he has every other night. 

Oh, he’d like to ruin it, now.

Tav’s pupils are blown black with want. Sweat shimmers on her skin, spurring his tongue to swipe his own lips. Her shoulder peeks bare from her nightgown, and Astarion can see her pebbled nipples, dark beneath the sheer silk that separates them. Hardened with hardly a touch. A feeling he’s intimately familiar with. His cock twitches as he strokes the back of his hand over the soft swell of her breast. 

“Aren’t you sore, sweet thing?” He tries for tender, but it comes out coarse. Rough like the way he wants to grip her hips.

“So be gentle,” she says with a sultry smile, lips peeled apart and glistening just enough that Astarion can’t peel his eyes away. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”

Astarion slinks forward, crowding her against the edge of the bed. Careful, like cradling glass, his palm reaches out to cup the side of her cheek. She sighs into the touch, the curve of her smile reaching the heel of his hand.

“Always,” he says reverently, before his voice sinks to a growl. “You’re always so, so eager…for me.”

Her lashes flutter low over hungry eyes. All it takes is one little wordless bob of her head for Astarion’s own hunger to have the best of him. With a lazy roll of his wrists, he shoves her back with kind but firm force. The mattress bends with her impact, her breathless laughter nearly lost beneath the whine of the wooden frame. Astarion crawls after her, hands fisting in her nightgown, and pulling her free of it.

And then, she’s bare beneath him. Writhing from his tongue and teeth. Gasping out the best words he’s ever heard. Astarion downs them like a man starved, kissing her with the kind of fervor he thought reserved for bloodlust. But her lips, the promises they pour, are sustenance all on their own.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, “all yours. Always. All of me.”

Astarion can’t stifle the whine that drags from some hollow in his chest he never knew about before.

The bed creaks as he hitches one of Tav’s limber legs up over his shoulder and nips a path of sharp kisses from her ankle to the crux of her thigh. He pauses, sweeping a feverish gaze over the spread of her: legs parted in his grip, that perfect slit, already wet with want, the rest of her sprawled naked across the bed, at his mercy, at his desire, at her own. 

He leans down, tongue dipping leisurely through her cunt. Always, she swore. So there’s no hurry in how he takes apart the woman he loves so dearly, in one of her favorite ways to be unmade. No matter how many times she claws the sheets and hisses, “Please, Star. F-fuck, I need you inside of me.”

It turns something in the depths of him to hear his own name said as a prayer. It makes him want with a force and harshness stronger than any thirst he’s felt for blood. He wants to turn her. Change her. Forever, for good. For the life they could make from their bodies, bound as close as souls could be. He wants to see her swell with the love they make, with all the love he’ll leave inside her.

She’s so close, her legs quaking violently when her hand tangles his hair and yanks his head upright. She’s beautiful, flushed ruby red, taking her air in shallow doses. Her eyes burn with equal measures adoration and reproach.

Astarion smirks, unrepentant, lips smeared with devotion. “My love, any work of art takes time. And that’s what we’re making, you know. When others look upon our progeny, they will weep in the sight of such beauty.”

“If all it takes is time, dearest,” she says, with a smile just as filthy, “then I don’t want to waste one second of it lying here empty.”

“Mmm,” Astarion sighs, nosing down against her throbbing clit, eyes flashing back to hers as he dares another lick. Her fist tightens in his hair. Astarion only chuckles. 

“You’re right, of course,” he croons. “That won’t do, at all. I do recall promising to-- how did you put it the other night? ‘Fuck you full and senseless’? I’m more partial to what you begged me for a tenday ago, when I had you face-down and waiting for me as soon as the sun was set. Remind me again, my love, what you said when you weren't gasping my name?"

Astarion presses the tip of his tongue to her clit again and tastes her rapid, ravenous pulse in the heat of it. Tav’s hips jerk in response, but he holds her fast.

“I-I said I want-- that I want--”

“You want me to ‘breed you like a damn animal’," he finishes for her. "Oh, don’t be shy now, my sweet. We’re far past that. And we want the same things, after all. But," he sighs, letting his lips drag through her flushed folds, "I've another promise to keep, first.”

Astarion flicks his wrist, muttering magic beneath his breath. Tav’s sharp little yelp of surprise shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock throbs as she settles again, arms bound above her head by his mage hand, tits bouncing from the slightest struggle against her restraints. She smirks up at him, eyes aflame with fresh desire. Escape is the farthest thing from what she wants.

“You lie back now, dear,” Astarion drawls. “You’ll take me soon enough. You’ll be so good for me, like you always are, and take everything I give you. And I’ll take very, very good care of the woman I intend to make a mother.”

Astarion watches her keenly, tracing his forefinger down through her slick. He unfurls it, circling her cunt daintily, and watching her writhe for even the faintest promise of friction. He’s not sure if it’s his mercy or his selfishness that readily discards the thought of keeping her here, just like this, for the rest of the day. She’s mesmerizing, with the way her back arches from the blankets, and how her body strains towards any touch he’ll spare her. 

All mine, he thinks, with a smile that makes him feel weightless. He grounds his hardened cock against the edge of the bed, groaning. All yours, darling. Just for you.

Pride rumbles low in his chest as he sets his mouth back to work again and knows she can’t cover her own. There’s no muffling his name pouring from her lips. No hiding how she cries for him. Her whole body winds taut, shuddering with every stroke of his tongue. 

Finally, finally, he lets his finger slip inside her. Astarion sighs into a satisfied purr, letting the tremble of it soak into her sex. Her cunt’s a vice around his knuckle. Every pump of his finger feeds the building burn inside him, fanning the ache to be sheathed in that tightness. He only aches more, feeling her squeeze around his finger, and knowing she longs for him just the same.

He slips in a second finger to join the first, feeling her spread and then clench anew. Astarion ruts aimlessly into the mattress, in time with the thrust of his wrist. The head of his cock weeps anticipation with the rogue tear trailing down the side of her cheek. It’s only pleasure that makes her cry.

There’s only love in her heavy-lidded gaze as she pants, “Please.”

Mercy, then, Astarion resolves. For both of them.

Her thighs quiver against his ears like leaves in a breeze. Astarion swirls his tongue against the bud of her clit and sucks tightly. Tav stiffens abruptly. His arms hook firm around her legs as a shattered sound breaks from her throat,and a hard tremor courses through her hips. 

He holds her through it, pinning her to the bed until just the faintest brush of his lips has her shuddering. The start of her plaintive whimper has him easing back. A murmured word sets her wrists free of her restraints. Her heart still hammers, sumptuous, in his head, as he peppers her legs in kisses soft as velvet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with each one, slinking up her body while she comes back down. “So, so beautiful.”

He thinks of new life, as his knee bends between her thighs and drags her open all over again. He thinks of the graveyard, where he had her freely beneath the stars, in the dirt where he woke centuries ago. He thinks he’d be happy to die again, this way, as he slides forward and buries himself inside her waiting heat.

Astarion grates out a long, low moan as he basks in the wrap of her arms and her cunt. Dimly, he feels her fingertips threading gently through his curls. He thinks of sunlight on his skin again as he sinks in fully, bracing his arms on either side of her head, letting his forehead tilt against hers. He can feel her pulse thrumming through her body, through his cock, through his fogged-over thoughts. His hips roll to the sound, as if it beckoned him to motion. Tav’s head drops back into the pillows. She lets out a long, contented hum, while her body rocks in time with his.

“Is this what you needed, darling?” He huffs a laugh, catching her lips in chaste kiss. It’s enough for her to taste her own sweetness. And one squeeze from her cunt is enough to cut his breath away all over again. 

“I think you needed me, too,” she purrs.

“Y-yes,” he stammers through bared teeth, his throat tied taut as she wrings him for all he’s worth. “Yes.”

She knows exactly what he needs, what he yearns for. He needs her, needs this, needs to see his seed seeping from her fucked-out hole, pink and puffy and leaking. He’ll know the rest of it was spent so deep inside her, her fertile womb is flooded. That’s his, too, with the rest of her. 

Hips high for me, beautiful, he’ll say, when his last thrust is done. And he’ll hold her legs up against his shoulders, kiss her heels, and slip the pillow beneath her pelvis. Just to be sure it takes. 

It’ll be another couple months before they’ll start to see the fruit of their efforts. Until Tav starts to bloom with it. And then, he’ll be hard pressed not to have his hands on her every hour. Cupping the fresh heft of her breasts as they grow with the passing days, heavy from him, for the babe growing in her belly. He’ll soothe her weepy eyes and tits alike, with a skilled tongue and sweet whisper. Rub her shoulders to ease the new weight her bones carry. Draw his nose down her neck and smell not just her, but himself, and the consequences of what they did, right here in this bed.

Feel her change beneath his hands and feel so fucking proud to be the reason.

Pleasure winds, binding, around his cock, and he feels that hunger snap its jaws around him all over again. His hips snap with it, jerking frantically. I need you, all of you, he thinks, and if he weren’t already fucking her, he’d be on his knees, begging for all he’s worth. Her cunt quivers, and he’s lost to the grip of her. Astarion shoves his own knuckles in his mouth to stifle a strangled cry. 

“Star?”

Astarion rips awake in a sweat. He sees familiar wooden beams above his head, above his bed. Sunlight streaks the floorboards, leaking from behind the curtains. Turning his cheek, he finds his lover peering at him from over her shoulder, concern wrinkling her face. Tav still lays on her side, and Astarion still presses against her back. But his hand clamps tight to her thigh, bare where he hiked up her tunic. And his cock twitches fitfully against her ass, unspent and painfully hard. 

Just a dream, then. For now, at least. 

He lets out a long, weary sigh, slumping back into the sheets. Tav tilts her head, the worry in her gaze gradually dissolving into a mischievous gleam.

“I thought you might--” she starts, snickering, “but you were having sweet dreams, weren’t you?”

“The best I’ve ever had,” Astarion mutters mournfully as he buries his face in his pillow. “You were there, of course.” 

Astarion rarely sleeps anymore. It’s not normal, not natural for an elf. But it was a trick he taught to dodge Cazador’s torment at least for a few hours a day. Reverie used to mean putting the horrors on repeat. He’d slowly eased from the habit, now that he has new memories worth seeing a second, third, or hundredth time. 

Still, occasionally, he drifts to sleep without meaning to. Sometimes, he wanders off into novel nightmares. Or, if he’s lucky, he dreams of making love to his wife and making her pregnant. Of making their own little dhampir.

His hips shift, and he hisses. Pre-cum seeps from the head of his cock, slickening the shaft. It’s not enough. Not after such a succulent fantasy. But one touch from his darling might have him sated, if not entirely satisfied. Pleasure stabs, sharp, through his groin as she shifts and brushes him with her motion. He grimaces. 

Just one touch alone could do it.

“I’m here now,” she smirks, twisting to face him. Her hand slips down between them. Mercy, he thinks, as her fingers wrap his length. He thrusts into her palm with a pleading whimper. “Tell me all about these dreams of yours.”

A/N: If you're yelling "Let him breed!!" at the screen just know I'm right there with you holding a megaphone about it 💜

If there's interest (from others & myself) perhaps there might be a part two where Tav takes matters into her own hands. Makes him say exactly what he wants, if he wants to have it so bad 👀

If you'd like me to add you to a tag list for future one-shots, or all of my future BG3 fic (including multi-chapters), leave me a comment and let me know which you'd like!

& HUGE thank you to some lovely Discord and Tumblr friends/moots who cheered me on as I worked on this one! 💜

Tag List: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

Banner credit to @cafekitsune

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #tavstarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion breeding #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x f!tav #f!tav x astarion #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate

[tarotwithavi]

Your rising and how you look

Aries rising people tend to have a strong body no matter what. Doesn't matter if they exercise or not. I have also noticed that these people have natural curly hair but it's gets wavy or straight over time or because of using cosmetics. Competitive and always want to look the best in the room. Nice ass and bust. Oh and the most noticeable part of their body is their head and hair. Also can have pointy chin too. Thik lower lip and thin upper lip.

Taurus rising people scream elegance. You can notice them from far away. They tend to have longer necks and in females it can give noticeable Adam's appeal. Also I have noticed that these people tend to be slim, like most of the Taurus rising I know are slim oh and a big foodie too. Another thing I have noticed is high cheekbones or noticeable ones with thin lips. Sensual body language and smirks. Diamond or heart face shape .

Gemini rising people tend to look younger than they actually are. Also Gemini rising people have small features giving them an innocent look. Probably have a short height unless other planets aspecting. I have also noticed that Gemini rising have a mole on their neck too like most of the Gemini rising I know HAVE a mole on their neck and a small one on their cheeks. Big eyes. Wide smile and mischievous. Wider face.

Cancer rising people tend to have big soft lips and distinctive noses. Lips are a soft shade of pink.I have noticed that if you have cancer in your big three you can have a big or wide nose. Cancer rising people are very ticklish like especially on their belly. So just a reminder never touch their bellybelly , you can get punched. Nice breasts in females and will give a nurturing motherly aura. Can give a fair skin tone on chest area.

Leo rising tend to have a buttery yellow skin tone that's glows golden in sunlight. Leo rising tend to look better in sunlight and have a very confident smile. They have a beautiful laugh too and might laughing at any time. Most of the Leo rising I know tend to cut their hair often and have thik hair. Not all of them obviously. But Leo rising have noticeable hair. Doesn't matter if it's short or long. Generous people and always try to make everyone feel wanted and loved.

Virgo rising people tend to have a youthful innocent face in their early days but as they get older they lean towards a mature face. O have noticed that virgo rising have a slim waist and bloating is not much of a problem for them. It can be the opposite of that. Virgo rising have stomach issues and back issues. These people are perfectionist and want to look the best. So Virgo rising look great even if they are wearing pajamas. Oh and also they find their aesthetic later in life so before that it's just random choices of clothes.

Libra rising people is the moment. It's their natural beauty that stands out for everyone. And also libra rising look hella gorgeous in pink. These just know what to wear to look great! Libra rising can have a wide upturned nose. I know Libra rising and known for their symmetrical face but most libra rising I know don't have a symmetrical face. I won't say libra rising always have a symmetrical face but their body proportions are great. Libra rising can be good at maths too.

Scorpio rising people are just intimidating looking. Their eyebrows are perfectly arched giving them perfect eyebrows. Oh and also these people have sharp eyes and probably look older then they actually are. Scorpio rising are the people dark aura. And you don't want to see them angry. One more thing is that Scorpio risrising get cat called a lot. Smile that could light up the room. Balanced upper and lower lips. These are the type to get tattoo without telling anyone. Secret tattoos.

Sagittarius rising curvy body shape. Sagittarius rising probably have a nice butt and thick thighs. They tend to have a pear shaped body. Also I have seem these people have nice teeth too. And their smile is gorgeous. They may also have crooked teeth and watery big eyes. I have noticed these people can gain weight easily but that's just what I have seen. Could be wrong too. These people can have eye issues too. They tend to have a V shaped jaw. Oh but Sagittarius rising have a nice ass is not joke.

Capricorn rising tend to have a longer face with thin to medium lips. They also have V shaped jaw and noticeable cheekbones . Capricorn rising can also have a thin face to make their bone structure more prominent and noticeable. In male it can give a square or rectangular face shape too. Oh and these people have strong knees and joints unless other planets aspecting. Also I have noticed these people have wider forehead .

Aquarius rising are simp collectors. Many people may not like their style but still many notice them because of their unique features. To be honest Aquarius rising cannot be out in a box because of their distinct features. Also Aquarius rising look very different from their gender. For example I have a friend who's an Aquarius rising and in his childhood pictures he looked pretty and this isn't the word which describes boys right? Also my nephew has this placement and in his baby pictures often mistaken for his sister's. Aquarius rising also have thin legs.

Pisces rising, to be honest they always look good and often they seem as if they belong to a high status. Otherworldly appearance and may have features that are very distinct from their parents. Often have shiny skin and pretty eyes. Most of the Pisces rising I know have light brown hair almost blonde. But yeah that's just my observation. Also their eyes seem all over the place and often are very sleepy. Might have small eyes. Also have plump lips and pinkish undertones.

⚠ these are just my observations.

Masterlist

#astro notes #tarot and astrology #astro posts #astro observations #aries rising #taurus rising #gemini rising #cancer rising #leo rising #virgo rising #libra rising #scorpio rising #sagittarius rising #capricorn rising #aquarius rising #pisces rising #astroblr #astro community #astro content #astrology #western astrology #astrology and tarot #rising sign #zodiac

[marlynnofmany]

Food Choices

Normally when I’m in a room with the entire crew of the courier ship, it’s either for an important debriefing by the captain or because of some emergency. We’d never all been at a restaurant together before. I kept having moments of worry that the ship was unattended, and having to remind myself that it was fully locked. Any of our biometrics could unlock it, and no one else would get past the hatch. It was fine. We could celebrate how good business had been — with the captain paying for everyone’s food — and there was no need to fret.

It was still bizarre, though. Almost as bizarre as some of the food I’d seen on other tables as we made our way to this one. The city was a cultural hub like few others. (Well, probably like many others, but they were very proud of themselves on that count. And this restaurant was a fine example.)

“The server will bring appetizers first,” said Captain Sunlight, scaly hands folded on the table in front of her with infinite dignity. “There’s no charge for these, and the server will likely decide for you what you want. They were pretty good at guessing last time I was here.”

“We shall see,” Zhee said with a flick of his antennae. He sat on an angled mat instead of a chair, since the restaurant had seating accommodations for all body types, including praying-mantis-shaped bug aliens. The mats were even adjustable, which was good because Trrili was taller than he was. She sat on the other side of the circular table — whether that was for more elbow room for the pinchers, or to make a maximum tripping hazard for people walking past, I couldn’t say. Either seemed in character for her.

“What’s the panel in the floor for?” Paint wanted to know. She sat next to the captain, scales a shiny orange to Sunlight’s yellow. I think she polished them before leaving the ship. She pointed now at the seam that I hadn’t noticed: a smaller circle inside the open center of the table.

Captain Sunlight said, “That’s the server’s entrance. They bring the food up from the kitchen downstairs.”

“Oh, nice!”

At my left, Mimi the mechanic grumbled about what an unnecessarily flashy choice that was, and how the restaurant had better keep on top of their maintenance. He gestured with his tentacles as he talked, sounding like he spoke from experience. “Anything that moves can stop moving, and usually at the worst time.” He also sounded like he gargled with engine grease, but he always sounded like that.

Fast-moving tentacles from further down turned out to be Wio and Mur, who’d discovered a game I didn’t recognize on the digital menu panel set into the tabletop. They were slapping away at something with competitive speed, and Mur seemed to be winning. Which was probably nice for him, given how often he lost at card games against the captain.

On my other side, Blip wrinkled her fishy nose. “I was about to say something smells good, but…”

“Then you smelled that?” asked Blop. “What is that?” He turned to look at neighboring tables, nearly elbowing Coals in the head and immediately apologizing. It was a good thing he’d missed, since that much muscle would have hurt.

“No harm done,” said Coals with his usual calm. I don’t think I’d ever seen the little lizardy guy upset. Which was probably for the best, given that he worked on translations with Trrili, and that had to be an exercise in patience.

Eggskin sat on his other side, similarly scaly and calm, but with far more opinions about food, since they were the ship’s cook as well as medic. I was only catching snatches of conversation from where Eggskin discussed the menu with Kavlae, but it sounded like a lengthy explanation for something. Kavlae didn’t look bored, though (head frills waving with interest), so it was probably good information. As a pilot, she didn’t spend much time on food prep.

I’d helped Eggskin in the kitchen plenty, both as part of the assistance rotation and because I found it interesting. The crew ate a range of foods, and most of it was edible for humans, though there were a few dishes that I wouldn’t touch on a dare.

A gentle chime sounded. Before I could ask what it was, the trapdoor sank down an inch then slid aside. A column rose into view that turned out to be a Waterwill, the gelatinous aliens that followed very few biological rules that I was familiar with. This one had less murky innards than most, with a bunch of things floating in there that could have been organs, recent meals, or personal belongings. The voice sounded vaguely male, and it hardly burbled at all.

“I hope you are all having an excellent day/night cycle! May your experience here only improve things.” He kept raising up, then when the platform cleared the floor, it folded out into a ring of serving dishes. The Waterwill sank back down in the center and everything locked into place. “Now, whose idea was it to dine at our fine establishment?”

Everyone pointed at Captain Sunlight.

“Ah, then I will serve you first!” The Waterwill didn’t turn, since he didn’t have visible eyes or even a mouth to be talking with, but somehow I got the impression that he had focused his attention in that direction. A stubby armlike shape reached out to set a bowl in front of the captain. “Our finest Heatseeker cuisine. And for you as well, madam. Also you, and you; don’t think I missed you over there.” Several arms passed out similar dishes to the other lizardy members of the crew.

I tried to peek around Blip and Blop for a look at Coals’ food, but couldn’t get a good angle. Might have been pasta and meatballs; might have been worms and worse.

“And!” announced the Waterwill, turning back to Zhee, “I hope this will be to your liking. And yours as well.” Goo arms set identical plates in front of the two Mesmers, and I could see from a distance that they held dead animals with the heads removed.

Zhee’s antennae were doing a complicated dance, but I couldn’t figure out if he was pleased or not before the server moved on.

“Only our best for the Frillians present!” He set festive arrangements of shrimp-things in front of Blip, Blop, and Kavlae. Really artistic; good presentation. The variety of colors and sizes made the plates into works of art. I hoped they tasted as good as they looked.

I murmured, “Ooh, fancy,” as the server came up with three more dishes.

“The Strongarm special!” he announced, laying them out in front of the three tentacle aliens to my left. Meat and plants of some sort; I couldn’t tell what.

Then he was back in front of me, and I realized I was the only one without food yet.

“Last but not least,” he said, “Featuring ingredients straight from Earth, we have a meal our chef has named the ‘Mother and Child Reunion.’”

The plate held a chicken breast, a hardboiled egg, and a pile of corn.

While Captain Sunlight thanked him generously, I stared at the plate with my hand over my mouth. When the server had packed everything up and disappeared back into the floor, I still didn’t know what to say.

Mimi spoke up from my left. “All right, why is it called that?”

I pointed. “This is the unhatched young of that species. And this is food they eat.”

Mimi tilted his octopuslike head to get a look at whatever expression I was making. “Isn’t that a weird thing to name it? Aren’t humans famous for pack-bonding with animals?”

“Yes and yes,” I admitted.

His rough voice was gentle. “Should we get you something else?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a name. This is human food; I just wasn’t used to thinking about it like that.”

“If you’re sure.”

I looked around the table, expecting to find the rest of the crew enjoying their food. To my surprise, there were complaints.

“They overcooked the worms and the fruit!” Paint said. “And these beetles aren’t even shelled. Who eats something with that many spikes straight?”

Wio grumbled, “How do they know enough to pick out shorebirds and air lettuce, but not enough to know what an insulting assumption that is?”

“Right?” Mur agreed. “No self-respecting Strongarm would choose something from the shore when there are inland foods available just a little farther away.”

The pair of them griped about the species’ history of walking out of the sea, and everything that meant to them, while Mimi added murmurs of agreement.

Zhee, meanwhile, was complaining louder. “They took out the good parts! What nonsense is this? Did they mean to put the intestines in a separate dish and forget?”

He looked across the table for agreement from Trrili, and found her scooping paste out of a jar that had come with the meal. She dumped the last of it onto her plate and spread it around while Zhee sputtered. “Really, Trrili? That much? Would you like some fursqueak with your sauce?”

“Soursauce is the only reason to eat fursqueak,” Trrili retorted. “If you don’t want yours, pass it down.”

Zhee exclaimed that the brains were everyone’s favorite where he came from, which was clearly more cultured than whatever backwater moon she was hatched on, and they bickered across the table.

I peeked over my shoulder at the other restaurantgoers, hoping they weren’t glaring at us. I found a pair of elderly Heatseekers watching with interest, for all the world like they had been hoping to get dinner and a show. Their plates held something that looked like green popcorn.

Next to me, Blip heaved a sigh. “I’m actually kind of tired of shrimp.”

Blop laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s great! The best food out there! But… I don’t know, I guess I was looking forward to something more exotic.”

I eyed the fancy plates. “Ever tried chicken?”

They both looked at me. “No,” said Blip. “Does it have a strong flavor?”

“I wouldn’t say so. It is good, though. Popular on Earth for a reason. Here, I’ll trade you a bit.” I separated a chunk and handed it over while Blip put a bright pink jumbo shrimp on my plate.

“Can I try the egg?” Blop asked tentatively. “Is that okay? It looks so different from fish eggs.”

“Sure!”

Captain Sunlight caught sight of what we were doing, and loudly asked if Wio wanted to trade seabird for worm jerky. She did.

After that it was a cheerful chaos of swapping and sampling. Mur thought Zhee’s fursqueak was tasty, if tough; Zhee happily cracked open Paint’s spiky beetles; Trrili found that her favorite sauce was also good on shrimp; Eggskin and Coals both liked the corn. Kavlae said that a wrapping of Mur’s air lettuce elevated her shrimp from tasty to god-tier.

By the time the server appeared again to take our orders for the rest of the meal, we were all ready. I have never seen a Waterwill look that surprised as when he heard some of our choices.

~~~

(The meal name comes from the Paul Simon song, which was apparently inspired by something on a Chinese restaurant menu.)

Anyways, these are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #culture clash #in spaaace #food #it can be a gamble no matter where you're from

[bluecollarmcandtf]

A tobacconist's shop that turns casual visitors, passers-by and delivery men into loyal pipe and cigar smoking customers and employees?

I've heard of this place. It's that old rundown shop on the bad side of town. It looks rather unassuming, situated in the center of a long deserted storefront. Few people pass by, but the ones who do always find the smoke...

Griffin couldn't be more proud of himself as he jogged nearby. He'd just turned fifty and had never felt healthier. Years of the same diet and exercise had kept him in fantastic shape. He still got looks from women; he knew they wanted him. He also got stares from men, who he imagined were jealous. Either way, Griffin was happy to be seen as the epitome of fitness. This was just who he was meant to be.

That's why he woke up an hour early. He wanted to run an extra mile before starting his day, so he added a detour to his normal path. He turned down a street he'd never seen before.

Something about this empty road seemed to call out to him when he saw it.

"Ignore the smell."

Griffin paused, "Hello?"

When only silence answered, he laughed at himself and picked up his pace. Before long, he caught a whiff of smoke. He ignored it, but the stench only got stronger. He was even starting to see clouds forming around him!

"Keep going!"

"What?" he looked around the deserted street, but there was no one to pin the voice to.

Griffin groaned in frustration and covered his nose with an arm. He needed to keep going and get on with his day. He wasn't going to let some smoke get in the way of him and his goals. He didn't care if the street stank. He didn't care if he was hearing things. He only cared about finishing his run.

"Stop and breathe it in!"

Griffin's legs suddenly came to a halt, and his arm instinctively dropped to his side. Before he knew it, he was doing what that voice said.

"What's happening to me?" he gasped, coughing as the smoke filled his throat.

"Turn around."

His legs obeyed the voice, spinning Griffin around. He found himself staring at an old abandoned smoke shop in between wheezes. He had no idea what was going on, but his heart was pounding with fear. Griffin hated anything unhealthy, and every breath of smoke made him feel like he was dying.

"You like the smoke!"

"What? No..." but even as he said it, something began to change inside of him. His throat stopped itching and a warmth spread from his lungs. He started to feel relaxed inside that cloud of smoke. Griffin might have even admitted that he liked it.

"Go inside."

Griffin didn't hesitate. His body marched inside that old cigar shop. That place had plans for him. After all, every store needs an employee. It also needed it's clientele, and that's what it's next plan was.

Tyler was idling in boredom later that day. He was right outside that same shop, but the cloud of smoke had disappeared. Tyler had arrived an hour later with his construction crew. They were demolishing one of the dilapidated buildings nearby, but it wasn't anywhere near as fun as he'd thought it'd be.

Being the new guy, the only tool he got was a broom, and Tyler had already spent the entire morning pushing it up and down the street. He wondered what his girlfriend would think if she knew this is what he did all day. Would she be disappointed that her big, strong, construction working boyfriend was nothing but a glorified janitor; because he sure was.

"Walk down the street."

"The hell?" Tyler sneered, looking around for the source of the voice, "Who's there? Is this a prank?"

Tyler doubted it was a prank. His coworkers were all old, lazy, assholes he didn't vibe with. All those farts wanted to do was smoke and whine about work. He couldn't imagine one of them taking the time to play a joke on him.

"Take a break."

Tyler sighed, "No need to tell me twice," and tossed the broom aside. The rubble could wait a few minutes longer to be swept up. He wanted to take a walk down the street and check out all the old buildings. They all seemed like they could come tumbling down at any second, but one caught his eye.

"That's weird," he muttered, noticing the storefront of the tobacconist shop "I thought this whole street was closed."

"Go inside."

Tyler was genuinely curious about the one occupied building in a row of vacancies, but his feet acted before he could. It wasn't until he found his hand pulling the door open that he realized he was on his way inside. He would've been rather scared by his lack of control if it weren't for the distraction of what he found inside the shop.

"Oh...uh...hello there," Tyler immediately said, realizing he wasn't alone in the shop

The man he was staring at looked like he'd been through some shit. His leather jacket and faded jeans looked about as old as the store, and he sucked on that cigar like it was water in the middle of a desert. A dense cloud of smoke lingered around the guy, and Tyler could practically taste the smell of tobacco in the air.

"Offer him your cigar."

"You want a smoke, boy?" the older man suddenly blurted around, staring Tyler in the eye.

"No, I'm good, man. I should be getting back to work anyway," the young construction worker answered, turning to leave.

"Take the cigar, boy," Tyler heard the man's voice deepen. He grappled with the doorknob, wishing he hadn't ever left his stupid worksite.

"Take the cigar."

Tyler let go of the door, and it swung shut. His body was acting impulsively again, but he was going the opposite way he wanted. Tyler turned back and found the leathery face of the old man inches away from his own. Before he knew it, that guy was pushing a cigar in his mouth, and his lips just opened to take it!

Tyler couldn't believe he was listening to this guy! He didn't even do what his father told him!

"Inhale it, boy," the man growled, cracking a tiny smile as he watched.

Tyler took a shaky breath in, smoking for the first time in his life. Immediately, he felt the urge to cough. His throat couldn't take it, but his body wouldn't let him. It was like his mouth just rejected the idea of relieving the itchiness of his lungs. He was left inhaling the smoke breath after painful breath until, eventually, it wasn't painful anymore.

"That's it, boy," the old guy said, pulling the new smoker into a rough embrace, "You're a smoker now. You buy from me. Remember that! You don't go to anyone else for your smokes except Griff. Got it?"

Tyler was still adjusting to his new addiction.

"Answer him."

"What? Yeah. I got it," Tyler mumbled. He didn't understand what he was agreeing to, but he didn't mind. Already, all he could think about was his next smoke break. A couple more hours of pushing that broom and he could pull out a pack of cigarettes. Tyler couldn't wait.

As Tyler strolled back to the construction site, he sucked the rest of that cigar dry. Luckily, he'd had enough change on him to buy the pack of cigarettes. Griff had suggested he smoke a pack a day, and Tyler had a feeling he was going to do as the man said.

"Sir?" a stern voice called, pulling Tyler out of his thoughts.

"Are you Tyler?" the cop asked, "You know your crew asked me to find you."

Tyler rolled his eyes and broke out his new pack of cigarettes open, "What they couldn't get off their asses to do it?"

"They were just worried. This isn't the best area to be wandering around in," the officer's tone hardened, "You know how bad that is for you, right?"

For a second Tyler paused. He hadn't thought about how nasty this habit actually was. Maybe he should quit while it was still new.

"Smoke in the pig's face."

The cop was confused by the sudden appearance of a disembodied voice, "Did you hear someth-"

Tyler blew out a long sigh of cigarette smoke in the policeman's face. He knew by now that he was supposed to obey that voice.

For the next few seconds, the cop cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. He hadn't expected that twerp to actually smoke in his face! When he cleared his vision, he noticed that the kid was gone.

"Investigate,"

That voice again puzzled him. There wasn't anyone nearby, and yet it sounded like a whisper. Nevertheless, it was right. He probably should investigate. That was his job after all.

It didn't take long for the cop to find the mysterious cigar shop. He was almost positive that whoever was inside wasn't supposed to be there. As far as he knew, this whole block was condemned.

"Hello! Police coming in." he announced as he pushed the door open, grimacing at the thick smell in the store "God it reeks in here."

"Explore the store."

The voice again appeared, telling him what to do. Officer Nichols figured the voice was right. He did need this godforsaken place. There was no way this place could be here legally.

As the cop passed a case with an array of cigars, his nose twitched. Something about them caught his attention. He wanted to find whoever was behind this business, but he figured he might as well explore the merchandise while he's here. It smelled expensive. It wasn't long before, he'd pulled one of the cigars and drug it under his nose to fully appreciate it's aroma.

"Like what you see?" a gravelly voice made the officer jump. Nichols turned and found Griff, propped against the wall behind the counter.

"Yeah, I..."

"You love it."

"...I love it," the cop finishes, surprised by his own words. He hadn't meant to say that. He was here to arrest whoever was behind this scheme. They were running an undocumented business out of an abandoned building!

"Actually, I'm here to...

"You're here to buy from him."

"...buy from you," Officer Nichols shakes his head. That's not what he meant to say. He needs to bring this guy in. Something in the air is clouding his judgement.

"I'm going to have to..."

"You have to keep the law away."

"...keep the law away." He couldn't believe he'd just said that. He'd just offered to aid a suspected criminal! He didn't mean that, right? The more Officer Nichols thought about it, the more he realized that he did mean it. This place needed to be free of pigs like him. Something was just telling him that this has to happen, and he was ready to lay down his career to do it.

"Yeah, I'm going to keep the precinct away from this place," the cop said confidently.

"Sounds good, man," Griff's increasingly raspy voice answered numbly, "Take a cigar for your trouble."

Officer Nichols left the shop feeling very different than when he entered. Before, he'd been straight-laced and by the book, but now he had a new urge to get a little dirty. The cigar and leather jacket Griff had bribed him with, made him want to do something bad. Maybe he could find someone to abuse his power on. That sounded fun.

The cop sauntered down the street, ready to embrace his new personality, and the street was once again left empty and deserted.

That is until, Randy came strolling down the way. Randy was a college student, on his way home from a library date with a girl from his biology class. It'd gone well, and he was still running off the high of geeking out about comic books with a super hot chick. He couldn't believe he'd found such an awesome girl, and she seemed totally into him!

He was planning on texting the number shed given him as soon as he got back to his apartment. That was why he was taking a shortcut. He couldn't wait!

"No need to rush."

Randy slowed his pace, slightly unnerved by the voice he'd just thought he'd heard. Looking around, he noticed that he was in the middle of a seemingly empty block: a ghost town in the middle of the city. The clouds of smoke he was approaching made the scene all the more unsettling.

"Since when is this here?" he wondered aloud. That's when the smell hit him.

"Gross," he muttered, trying his best to ignore the strong scent of secondhand smoke.

"Follow it."

Ryan found himself stepping off the sidewalk. For some reason, he was crossing the street and heading into even denser fog. His nose led the way, taking him the exact opposite direction it wanted to go. He was forced to put up with the smell, following it's trail all the way into the little store that was its source.

"This is where you want to be."

"What? No I want to go home and call that girl," Randy objected, but already she seemed a lot less exciting to him now.

"You'd rather stay here and smoke."

Randy shook his head, "I can't stand smoke. Why would I do that!"

"You don't care if you don't like it."

The young man thought for a moment. He couldn't really refute this new statement. Randy realized that he actually didn't care that he found smoke disgusting. He'd followed it here even though he hated it. It just made sense that he would start smoking it even though he hated it.

He picked up a cigar from the counter. It was already lit, waiting for someone to take it. Randy knew he wasn't going to like it, but that didn't stop him from sucking on the thing for several seconds. He was grateful when he pulled it off his lips, but he knew he was just going to have to keep taking hits.

"That's mine," a voice cut firmly through the silence.

"Oh, sorry," Randy dropped the cigar, embarrassed to be called out by this construction worker. Immediately, he found himself disliking the guy. He was close to his age, but looked like a lowlife laborer.

"Don't let it happen again," Tyler sneered, selfishly snatching the cigar away. In his mind, Randy was just another preppy snob.

"You two like each other."

Instantly, the two guys' opinions changed. It didn't make sense, but they realized they could see each other as friends.

"You two love each other."

"Come here," Tyler barked, feeling himself get hard under his dirty work pants. For some reason, this random college kid was making him feel hornier than his girlfriend had ever been able to.

Randy let the construction worker pull him close. Somehow, he was more excited now than he'd been a few moments earlier with his library date. He eagerly accepted the new cigar, Tyler was pushing into his mouth.

It wasn't long before the new couple were making out in between puffs of their cigars. They'd completely forgotten about the girls they'd once adored, now obsessed with how masculine they each looked smoking their cigars in the middle of the dirty old tobacco shop.

Griff watched from a distance, organizing the merchandise according to the store's instructions. That disembodied voice was constantly whispering in his ear, ordering him around like a puppet with a long string of orders. Griff's principles were long since abandoned.

His only thoughts were the thoughts the voice put in there.

"Finish unloading the cigarettes, and then go upstairs. Pull out the mattresses, but don't bother cleaning anything. The construction worker and college student can be made comfortable in the dust and grime. Pull out another mattress for yourself. If the policeman comes back you will be servicing him all night as to thank him for protecting us..."

The instructions droned on and on in Griff's head, as he mindlessly followed its whim. A cigar hung from his lips, although he needed a regular reminder to smoke it.

Randy and Tyler were getting more aggressive near the counter. Their lust for the smoke and each other was only growing stronger each second.

Meanwhile, several blocks away, Officer Nichols was on his way back to the shop. The man was determined to unleash his new dark side on someone, and something told him that the clerk at the tobacconist shop would be perfect.

#hypnosmoke #gay mind control #smoking boys #ai man