Two old drawings from my TPP brainrot era
I don't remember whether they are from 2020 or 2021 but either way it was before i started using procreate and i was still learning how to do realistic portraits.
anyway, here's juno and nureyev (yes, i never finished it, hopefully one day i will)
I should probably redraw them as soon as i have a little bit of free time cause right now the exam season is approaching and it's killing me 🫠 🫠 🫠 🫠
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𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 ・❥・ S. GOJO
“did you really have to do all this?”
“hm?” satoru hums absently, nipping along your chest, skin still slightly damp from your night swin. he’s half on top of you, his wide shoulders dwarfing your smaller frame as you lay back on the deck of the yacht. “do what, buttercup?”
“this—ah—,” you breathe, fingers entangling in his hair when he eagerly sucks at one of your breasts. his white locks are tinted purple from the neon lights in the pool. “this whole thing. the private jet, the house, this yacht. why?”
his private jet, his house in the hamptons, his yacht. this was an unplanned getaway, just on a whim when satoru felt like taking you away. he had a million and one things waiting for him at work, much more pressing matters than which bikini he wanted you in today (the baby blue one). an entire staff of people at the house and yacht for just two….
satoru smirks against your skin, fingers teasing along your barely covered pussy. the faint scent of chlorine and the sea clings to your soft skin and he greedily inhales like one of your gourmand fragrances. “why? cause i fucking can, that’s why. now lemme concentrate here.”
and as much as you want to snort a snide reply—take his ego down just a fucking notch, it dies on your tongue when a long finger slides your bikini aside and the cool night breeze kisses your slick cunt. satoru snickers at this, resisting the urge to coo and tease you for being as perverted as you claim he is. because while you were so adamant on not doing anything where the staff can walk in on, your pussy was dripping for him right now.
the entire crew on the yacht can come onto the deck and watch him fuck his girlfriend for all satoru cares. ramming his thick cock into your tight cunt as you unravel and moan like the slut you are—until you’re babbling and whining his name over and over and over.
they can watch him fill you up with his cum and hear you beg for more—becoming an alluring siren before their very eyes. maybe he wants others to see just why he’d drop everything just to have you under the stars.
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alhaitham x reader. wc: 540. fluff. pt 3. of '—the scribe, in love.' pt. 2.
alhaitham always, always knows when something decides to worm its way into your mind. he can practically see it wiggle around, the gears in your skull turning and the cogs moving as you chew on your fingernail. the air around you almost buzzes with the energy of the idea bouncing in your head.
he watches you carefully throughout the day, one eye on his work and another on you. you keep stealing what he's sure you think are covert glances, and he bites back the urge to make a remark. instead, he decides to wait.
when you approach him in the evening, two books tucked to your chest, he knows he'll find out soon enough.
the countdown begins when you bring his head to your lap while he reads. with every page you flip above his head, he mentally marks another number.
three. two. one.
“alhaitham?”
there it is. he hums in response, eyes never parting from the words in his page.
“how do you feel about nicknames?”
now that, he did not expect. as he chooses his next words carefully, he carefully studies the glint in your eyes. idly, he wonders why you asked.
"i have no opinions about them," he says, after a few moments of silence.
"so," you stretch out the 'o' sound, "can i call you my darling?"
"unexpected." he blinks. "but i don't see why not," odd, but a harmless request.
"can i call you sweetheart too, then?"
"call me whatever you like," he sits up, deciding to get a drink of water. he only just takes a sip when you pipe up next.
"what about calling you my snookums?"
he chokes. you and your timing. "does that word even exist in the dictionary?" he asks, attempting to nonchalantly distract you.
goodness knows that if he let even a single moment of weakness show, you'd pick up on it and use the nickname on him for eternity. and if kaveh got wind of it?
the architect would haunt him with it for months.
you sigh, and that's when he knows you're nowhere near done. but you say nothing, so he assumes you're satisfied for the time being.
hours later, night blankets sumeru city, inky sky enveloping all. you've been suspiciously silent about your earlier topic of conversation.
it is not until the two of you are comfortably settled in bed, your head resting on his outstretched arm as you face his chest, that he sees the gears turn once again. your eyes are soft, and your hand gently strokes his cheek.
"can i call you hai-hai?" you ask, voice not louder than a breath next to his ear.
color starts to dance on his cheeks, and he averts his eyes. he opens his mouth in protest, but words die in his throat.
who would've thought the acting grand sage, one who knows so, so many words, in so many languages, would be rendered speechless by a nickname, and such a silly one at that?
you do not wait for a response. a smile slowly spreads across your face and the hand on your face squishes, then pokes his cheek.
"hai-hai it is, then." you press a kiss to his nose. "goodnight, hai-hai."
you'd be the death of him.
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gojo who’s nosy and loves gossip. and he loves sharing it with you even more.
satoru always comes to you with the latest gossip amongst jujutsu sorcerers and the clans—bending his knees and leaning into your space as he whispers behind his large hand, telling you about what clan wife got caught cheating and with who. or when he doesn’t feel like working on his mission reports (which is almost always), he sits comfortably in his chair, leaning back on the rear legs, telling you how he heard that utahime’s been visiting tokyo often. shoko is conveniently always gone during this time. wonder what that’s about, huh? he says with a cheshire grin, and even with his blindfold on you can see the movement of his wiggling brows.
he often saunters into your office like he owns the place, silently setting down your favorite drink on your desk as he gulps on his melon soda—just to tell you about the crazy drama he overheard from some girls behind him in line at the convenience store.
you have no idea why it’s always you who’s subjected to this, but the truth is, satoru just likes finding reasons to be around you. (also you’re just as nosy as he is and love his gossip. you just try to hide it. but he knows you!)
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"I can't believe Feyre couldn't answer the riddle, if it was Aelin ,she would've finished in just a week"
Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Feyre wasn't loved enough to know the answer? Like she never knew what it was like being loved until Rhys and the IC.
And you comparing two very different characters is just plain stupid. Like you're comparing a highly trained fae assassin to a human.
The fact that she did all that as a 19 year old human proves how strong and awesome she is.
.......
REPOST⚠️
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