flow curves

umm….apparently, humans are the only animals that can draw straight lines and all i can think is

aliens coming to earth and wondering why, when all their cities and ships and constructed forms on their own worlds are either organic and flowing, smooth edged and curving, or rough, uneven and jagged (but naturally formed), that the humans have architectural structures that have impossibly smooth, straight lines that are–yeah, okay, theyre mathematically possible–but HOW ARE THEY NOT NATURALLY FORMED WHAT SORT OF IMPOSSIBLE, IDIOTIC CREATURE MADE THIS

even the aliens spaceships are smooth, but aerodynamically curved, with no straight, 180° lines because theyve never thought straight is aerodynamic, sharp edges proving too wind resistant and obviously built, so any invading species would easily identify their crafts or dwellings

Put on a Show for Me - Let Me Show You Part 2

Author’s Notes: Despite how long it took me to post this, I actually had a lot of fun writing it. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy it too. Again sorry for any typos. I try to edit it, but I miss things. 

Word Count: 3,413 (Get yourself a snack, kids. This shit is long af.)

Warnings: Smut. I mean is there anything else worth writing?

Part One: Let Me Show You

Roman knew you were reaching your breaking point. As much as you tried to stay cool and collected under the gaze of his bedroom eyes, he could tell it was all an act. Being an upir had its advantages. One of them being how he could catch your eye and sense your body remembering every welcomed violation he performed on your pleasure deprived body only a few hours prior. He could hear your heart race and he could all but taste the blood rushing to his favorite spot between your thighs. He wanted you again the moment he watched you fall into euphoria in his arms.

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Heydar Aliyev Center

The Heydar Aliyev Center is a 619,000-square-foot building complex in Baku, Azerbaijan designed by Iraqi-British architect Zaha Hadid and noted for its distinctive architecture and flowing, curved style that eschews sharp angles.

The Heydar Aliyev Center represents a fluid form which emerges by the folding of the landscape’s natural topography and by the wrapping of individual functions of the Center. All functions of the Center, together with entrances, are represented by folds in a single continuous surface. This fluid form gives an opportunity to connect the various cultural spaces whilst at the same time, providing each element of the Center with its own identity and privacy. As it folds inside, the skin erodes away to become an element of the interior landscape of the Center.

Want to see more architecture? Follow Pretty Architecture
Text source: wikipedia

anonymous asked:

I have heard people say that Yuzuru's and Patrick's skating skills are the best in the field. However, their approach to footwork are totally different? My absolute favourite skater is Yuzuru but imo, Patrick's skating skills are on a whole nother realm. Could you maybe help me understand the best qualities of each skater's style and why someone might prefer the one style over the other? Thank you very much for your hard work!

Oh yes, it’d be my genuine pleasure to help you out with this. IMO the two SP step sequences from Yuzuru and Patrick last season are perfect examples of their different styles, so I’m going to use those as illustration. I’d highly recommend to give them a re-watch if you need to refresh your memory (or if you simply feel like it, there’s never an occasion not suitable to watch those two step sequences over and over again). Here’s Yuzu’s Let’s Go Crazy and here’s Patrick’s Dear Prudence/Blackbird.

Some general observations:

  • What they both excel at: effortlessness, clarity of turns and steps, multi-directional skating, rhythmic movements in tune with the music structure.
  • What Patrick specializes in: deep edges, smooth and accentuated curves, flows and glides. Basically when Patrick does his step sequences he would appear to do everything in one serene motion from start to finish.
  • What Yuzuru specializes in: agility and lightning-quick changes of directions, variety and originality in upper body movements. Yuzu’s footwork is a bundle of energy and emotion. LGC is quite an extreme example of course, but you’d see this even when he skates to a slower tempo like in Hope and Legacy.

Let’s look at them side by side, using the 3 combinations of difficult turns from their step sequences:

For that third combination they happen to do the exact same turns, so let me zoom in on their feet:   

Both of their footwork are of the highest quality. When you look at it carefully there is no question whatsoever about any of the turns they perform. Edges are cleanly changed where they need to be changed, held where they need to be held, same story for entry and exit curves. Yuzu’s turns and steps are just a tiny bit harder to pick out in real time because, as said, he does so love his speed. The technical content of their step sequences are roughly the same, however Patrick took around 45 seconds to deliver his and Yuzu 35 seconds (and that’s because Yuzu spent quite a bit of time on that knee slide).  

Have another look at those side-by-side. See how Patrick likes to press deeper into those curves before turning, while Yuzu prefers to rotate as fast as possible? Also see how Patrick tends to move his upper body in broader, more patient gestures, while Yuzu obviously enjoys expressing the music with his entire body using those playful and dramatic movements?

Note, however, that I’m not saying either of them is incapable of what the other likes to do. See these 2 choctaws for examples:

Yuzu is perfectly capable of extra-deep edges and emphasized curves, while Patrick can totally pull off light knee actions and quick turns. They just prefer to do things the other way most of the time - that is, after all, what it means when people say they each have their distinctive style :)

The reason why someone might prefer one of their styles over another is purely a matter of taste really, and it should be so, because technique-wise it’s impossible to say whether skating like Patrick or like Yuzu is harder. To borrow the convenient analogy of their music choices, I’d say asking if Patrick is better than Yuzu in skating skills is like asking if The Beatles are better than Prince. There is no valid comparison to be made here, and if you don’t have a clear preference there’s no need to force yourself to pick only one. I myself very much enjoy watching/listening to both skaters/artists, because why not? 


Easy morning flows this fine Tuesday morning.
I’ve been neglecting my practice more and more as the weather gets colder. Although my practice practically lives outdoors, I have to keep reminding myself that the ability to find the same peace and excitement indoors is my true goal.
#yoga #yogi #yogababe #om #oregon #namaste #aries #asana #bendy #bodylove #bodypositive #stretch #flexible #fitness #headstand #balance #flow #girlswithtattoos #curves #mybodymychoice #practice #yogalife #pnw

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Drawing the King’s Card (Requested)

Originally posted by lullabyun

OTP(s): Yixing x Reader 

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 5,036

Sypnosis: Yixing recieved something he didn’t expect, but so did you.

Request: (from Anonymous) Yixing comes home after a long day of work so you give him a pretty intense massage in the living room, but once he joins you in the bedroom he finds you wearing a unicorn outfit (or lingerie and some kind of unicorn horn thing idk??) And that results to loads of smutty sex with a dom Lay?

A delicious breeze rolled through the house, rumpling the clothes of the sleeping figure flattened on the sofa. Her (y/h/c) tresses flowed silkily along the curves of her chest and she tightly grasped a large, soft pillow for comfort. Its scent carried the contents she deeply adored — the strong, robust whiffs of cologne, the sweet droppings of fruit, the soft waft of tea. The more the smell swelled in her face, the longer she slept.

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Daddy Issues

Pairing: JungKook & Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: A top student, marks always high. College was not a dream for her…Except she didn’t have enough money. Her parents never earned much so they literally took care of themselves. Her boss acting as a dick towards her she quited her job. Even though she had no idea what she let herself into this was her only option.

Other Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

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anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips about drawing in the rubberhose style? I've been trying for hours and I can't figure it out for the life of me. (Maybe I'll have to sell my soul to Bendy) - Karmen

I suppose that depends on what you need help with.

The general rule about the rubber-hose style is that the style relies heavily on flowing curves, especially in the arms and legs, hence the name. 

There is little to no articulation, so the anatomy is more simplified and approximate, as opposed to focusing on exact proportions.

A lot of the black and white cartoons used this style, but it’s also been integrated into some modern cartoons, too. Cartoons like Adventure Time, Regular Show, and Wander Over Yonder have characters that often use the rubberhose style.

One of the positive things about rubber hose is that it allows for more exaggerated poses, which can be a lot of fun to play around with. 

His Winter Comrade [BuckyxReader]

Summary: What happens when a veteran loses his service dog in the woods?

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Angst? Language, probably (definitely), talk of PTSD, panic attacks, combat triggers, the loss of loved ones is mentioned.

Word Count: 2.055

A/N: Ok. I don’t know what’s going on that my writing feels so laboured lately. Oh wait. That’s a lie. It’s the constant barrage of “are you ready for Father’s Day? Stressed about what to get dad?” No, no I’m not. My dad’s fucking dead, so let’s forget this day exists, yeah? He hated it anyway.

Anyway. I’m a moody, angsty bitch, and likely will be until after Father’s Day. Maybe you can look forward to better writing then? Until then, though, this is the best you’re gonna get.

This one is for Kait’s (@bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Writing Challenge. It was gonna be fluff, but instead it’s…whatever this is. I’m sorry. I really feel like I’m letting everyone down.

Originally posted by one-cold-day

Shit! Shitshitshitshit, shit! Jesus fuck, Zima, how many times have we walked this trail, you little fuck? Dozens! Hundreds! Why the fuck did you take off this time you dumb, fucking mutt? Where are you? Shit, shitshitshitshit, shiiiiiit.

Bucky couldn’t believe his black retriever just took off like that. The dog always strolled along right beside him. Always. Yet here Bucky was, carefully picking his way down a long-abandoned path he last saw his dog dart down. Every so often, Bucky would call out for Zima, his exquisitely trained, unbelievably obedient dog, hoping he’d see the beast bounding toward him. But he didn’t. The longer Bucky went without seeing Zima, the more Bucky began to worry that he had well and truly lost his dog.

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anonymous asked:

Oh okay, so none of the ferals I see are true rock doves... Are racing homers the only breeds with that stereotypical coloring? I love the iridescent necks, or the white and tan ones, and the blue/grey ones with white or spotty wings, but I'm assuming homers are super high energy as they're typically bred for performance

No, homers aren’t the only blue bar or blue check breeds.

That’s the wild type base color and patterns, so you’d be hard pressed to find a breed other than Archangels with out it.

There are homers bred for color instead of flying ability that are slightly less high energy, and at least three Homer off shoots bred exclusively for exhibition.

Those being the German Beauty Homer

The American Show Racer

And the breed I will be working with: The Show Type Racing Homer

I like the full beak and the flowing, elegant curve of this breed.

They have a reputation for being wonderfully friendly, highly productive, tight setters, excellent feeders, and devoted parents and they come in EVERY color combo!

This is my male Valencian Figurita: the world’s smallest breed of pigeon.

This is a structure breed that can come in any color.

They are energetic, but being tiny (about the size of a Ringneck Dove) makes them relatively easy to comfortably house.

Chris Evans Fic: Since Then (Five Years Later)

So yesterday, I reached an incredible, unbelievable 900 followers! So today, in celebration, here is a tiny little, extremely fluffy sequel to my recent fic Since Then. Enjoy! :)


‘Hey Abs?’ Chris asked, not taking his eyes off the road. He was trying very, very hard to stay relaxed in the passenger seat as his daughter navigated the roads in his car. There was nothing actually wrong with her driving, but as he always told her, it was all the other drivers on the road that concerned him.

She’d begged and begged him to take her out for driving practise and he’d finally agreed, but now they were alone, he needed to ask her a question.

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Adam Driver’s Face

This is my attempt to explain the beauty of Adam Driver’s face: CONTRAST.

Anyone familiar with art principles knows that contrast draws attention and is visually pleasing. It is a tool artists use to direct a viewer’s gaze.

Adam Driver’s face has layers of contrast:

Light/dark: Pale skin contrasts dark hair

(also, light and dark sides of the force for Kylo Ren)

Hard/soft: prominent brow ridge, aquiline nose, pointed chin, and broad shoulders contrast with the flowing curves of his hair, his soft jawline, his rounded ears, and his large, round eyes

Masculine/feminine: masculine features of brow ridge and deep set eyes, adam’s apple (deep voice), large nose, broad shoulders, and facial hair (usually) contrast with feminine features like long eyelashes and large round eyes, paler skin, long wavy hair, fuller soft lips, and a softer jawline

Typical beauty/ugly: Large ears, large nose, long face, contrast with full lips, large eyes, broad shoulders, and luscious hair

The contrast in Adam Driver’s face (and even his personality and most of his characters) is what makes him so appealing. He is strong yet vulnerable. He is intense yet kind. He is awkward yet elegant. He is relatable yet mysterious. He is languid yet bursting with energy. He is intimidating yet endearing. He defies categorization and definition. This is what draws attention to Adam Driver. This is why he has such presence. This is why people can’t stop looking at him.

I also would like to draw special attention to some certain features of interest.

EYES: Huge and watery and deep and dark round surrounded by luscious dark lashes. Both size and roundness draw attention and create interest.

EARS: Their roundness flows perfectly into the waves of his hair.

LIPS: Pink and full and beautiful.

BEAUTY MARKS: Both endearing and beautiful. They add additional contrast to his pale skin and adds variety and interest to the symmetry of his face.

FACE LENGTH: A long face adds an additional height illusion to his already impressive height. Both his long face and height give him a thinness that contrasts with the bulky muscles of his perfectly toned body.

And now, there is just one last reason Adam Driver’s face is so beautiful: he has a unicorn soul, a heart of gold, and a reflective mind of bottomless depth. Like, he is just a really great person and you can see it in his eyes, okay?

Teaching the Queen ~Jay Park

Originally posted by fy-jay-dok2

{first post, let’s see how this goes!! not my first time writing smut however hehe. smtm based but i’m swtiching up the teams a bit cause i like certain groups better so basically a team from smtm4}

Jay and Dok2 sit on the couch, unable to comprehend what they just watched. Here comes this girl, you, onto the fire pit stage. You look timid but something told Jay that was the exact opposite of what you actually you. And fucking hell was he right, the minute that track started, your lips moved at an impeccable pace, flowing disses and rhymes like they were cursive.

“W-Who gave her the necklace?” Jay asks, looking around at the other producers while you leave and the next applicant prepares for his or her turn.

“I did,” Dean waves.

“You?!” He raises his eyebrows. “I half expected Jiho to raise his hand.”

“Me?!” Zico says baffled.

“She seems like your type,” Jay tests the waters.

“Well you wouldn’t be wrong, but she’s an applicant. Also, she’s a bit intimidating…” Zico admits. That’s an understatement and it causes the rest of the producer line to burst into hysterics. Jay included, but deep down, your intimidating rapper style attracts him. Rarely do you see such a fierce character on the show who also has mad skills like that. A fantastic rapper and a hot girl, what more could someone like Jay Park be looking for?

As the season of Show Me the Money progresses, Jay continues to fall for you. His favorite thing about you, the thing that attracts him most, distracts him daily, keeps him up at night?

Your lips.

Soft and plump and full. They look smooth and so perfect, as if sculpted for Jay himself. When they sit in a plain state, they still look magnificent, but the best and most enjoyable part is when they open and you start to spill lyrics. They move in time with the beat and bring life to every syllable you curse. He was lucky enough to get you on his team, Team AOMG-Illy. And after a bit of convincing, he got Dok2 to keep you for the rest of the season.

“Why are you so confident in her?” He questioned the day they sat down to decide.

“There’s something about her that seems so winner appropriate. I dunno…” Jay couldn’t put it into words but somehow it was all Dok2 needed to get on board. For some reason, he trusts Jay’s judgement about these things. And today is the final, look who was right! You and your producers sit in the back wings of the finals stage, hearing the crowd getting pumped up by the MC. You take deep breaths, nodding your head and trying to focus on your words.

“You’re going to do fantastic,” Jay says from behind you. You spin on your heels to face the sweet faced producer man who has helped bring you your dream.

“Thanks oppa,” you smile. Inside, his heart flutters at the word.

“You’re going to win, I know it. Just have fun and show them what I saw in you that day on the fire stage, and you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hands.”

You nod and he excuses himself to leave for the green room. As he walks in, Dok2 notices Jay’s odd expression. “What’s up with your face?”

“What do you mean?” Jay asks, touching his skin.

“You’re all red. You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, totally fine,” Jay nods.

Dok2 gives him a wary look but decides to drop it. The MC reads off the teleprompter and announces your entrance. He leaves and the lights dim. Jay and Dok2 rise and clap for you. In comes San E and VJ, intrigued.

“Do you think she’ll win?” San E asks the general group. Everyone nods, Jay included, but his eyes are locked on the monitor. He helped make the track and helped you write your lyrics too. If you lose, he’ll take personal responsibility, but he knows you won’t. It’s his and your time to win. And in the back of his head, he hopes in more ways than one.

Sure enough, you kill the stage and get the crowd whipped in a frenzy. The room was a hype train, cheering and chanting for you, your stage name ringing through the corridors and you can hear Zico and Dean trying to out cheer you but it’s no use.

“GOOD LUCK TOPPING OUR QUEEN!” Jay shouts down the hall and then ducks back in.

When you come back, Jay hugs you tight and then you’re all summoned to the stage to reveal the winner. Team CoDean went before you so now it’s just time to tally up the win. Once positioned for the camera, you stare out at the crowd, afraid beyond your wits.

“Remember what I said?” Jay asks in your ear. You tense up but relax once you recognize his deep tone.

“That you’re going to win.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I haven’t been wrong yet,” he says.

Sure enough, when the MC opens the envelope with the winner, you are crowned SMTM’s first female winner and it brings tears to your eyes. After collapsing to the floor in shock for a moment, Jay and Dok2 help you up and Jay wraps you in a tight hug that you can’t help but fall into. He has given you your dream and everything you wanted. Dok2 as well, but Jay…He really made it worthwhile. He really was there every step of the way, every hard ship, every moment you wanted to quit and give up because people gave you shit, every time you got so inspired you spent the whole night at AOMG working. One time, Jay even stayed and slept on the couch. You remember that night and how badly you wanted to go lay down with him and cuddle him. But you were already hated, imagine if someone found out, you would have been screwed for sure, so you kept yourself in check and pushed aside your feelings for Jay Park.

The recording ends and you are allowed to go back to the green room. It is a swarm of congratulations and then you all head to Jay Park’s place for a small party. “C’mon Y/N, leggo!” Jay says, waving you over to his Bentley. Your eyes widen.

“Y-You sure?”

“Hell yeah! C’mon you won, therefore, you get a cruise in the Bentley. C’mon, it’s fun. I’m a great driver.”

You can’t help but feel special the way he talks to you, even though it’s casual. The whole way home you two jam out to music and then Mommae comes on. It’s the song you love the most of his many. It’s smooth and slow and you love to move your hips to the beat. Your curves flow perfectly with it, somehow. As Jay speeds down the wide roads, you can’t help but move yourself in the seat. You curse the seat belt holding you back but Jay notices anyway.

“That’s hot,” he comments and you look at him.

“Did you just say…?” You ask.

“Did I say that out loud?!”

“Yeah,” you blush. “You said me moving was hot.”

“Whelp, you know now but yeah…That’s hot how you move your hips.”

You look at him and see a bit of fantasy in his eyes, as if he’s picturing you doing that with out the car around you.

“You should see me when I’m just dancing,” you say slowly and Jay nods.

“I’d like that. I’d like hold those hips, not gonna lie…” He chuckles deeply.

Unfortunately, you arrive too soon before the conversation can go father. It makes you both a bit upset but if you delay, everyone will suspect things. So you go in and enjoy the party but the whole time, Jay and his comments in the Bentley stick to your brain. Finally, people start to leave. Zico, San E, Dok2, all of them, they file out the house. You wave goodbye with Jay and act casual as you walk back in. The door shuts and you keep walking but are halted by rough hands on your hips.


“Let me play some music,” he says, leading you over to the stereo that he plugs his phone into. You stand in place while he selects a song…Mommae. “Show me those moves again, Y/N.”

Whenever your real name escapes his lips, it sends hormones rushing through your body. The whole show process, he got used to calling you by your stage name but a few times he did say your given name and it made you feel special. He places his hands back on your hips and pulls you against his firm body. You can feel his muscles on your body and against your back, his abs. As the song picks up, you get in the groove. Your hips move against him and as each second passes, his hands wander more and more. At the climax of the song, his arms are wrapped around you, crossing your torso and latching up to your shoulder. His face is buried into your neck and he sloppily kisses your skin there. It sends you into a frenzy and as the song repeats he goes to change it but you have another idea. You spin around in his grip and move your hands up his torso, feeling his chiseled figure beneath his shirt. Not like you haven't’ seen him shirtless, he’s almost always stripping on stage, but you want to see that body in a new light, new environment, new circumstance.

As if he can read your mind, he rips his shirt off over his head and then grabs your hips again and pulls you close. He leads you back towards the couch. He collapses back and pulls you on top of him and that heats the room up. Your lips crash on his and your instinct kicks in. You grind against him and sway your hips too, all while he attacks your sweet lips. Finally, he gains entrance to your tongue and when he tastes you fully, it’s like all the time of having to wait for the show to finish paid off.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for his,” he moans when he takes a deep breath.

“How long?” You ask him.

“Since the fire pit day. When you opened your lips, I knew you were something special and damn was I right. You are something special in so many ways…”

You crash your lips onto his again and bite his lip as you pull back. You earn a deep growl from Jay’s throat.

“You deserve a special prize,” Jay whispers, eyes closed.

“I won what the show promised…”

“No,” he shakes his head, his hand slowly making contact with your bare torso skin, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up centimeter by centimeter. “An exclusive prize…”

“What do you have in mind Jay?”

With that, he sits up and somehow manages to scoop you into his arms and brings you to his bedroom. He tosses you onto his plush bed and shuts the door. You start to sit up but are pinned down as he rushes to you, climbing over you and hovering. He kisses you hungrily, wanting more and more and you’d be a lying fucker if you said you didn’t want him just as bad. You’ve dreamed of this, being with Jay like this…And so far, it’s everything you’ve fantasized. He tastes sweet and demanding. His feels rough and restless. He sounds gruff and sexy. He moves like a god and like he’ll make you feel like you’ve never experienced before.

The passion intensifies and as his hunger for you and your skin and all you have to offer increases, you decide to hurry things along. You try to play with his belt but he pins your hands up.

“No no baby girl, that’s not how I play. Let me show you…”

And with that he slips your pants off and they’re tossed to the floor, Jay already going for your panties. He plays with them on you, twiddling the thin fabric in his fingers for a moment before leaning down. He makes eye contact with you and keeps it as his teeth tug them down your legs. He discards them and uses his lips to trail up your legs, your thighs, your hips, back to your inner thighs. He grows closer to your core and it makes you moan.

“Please…Hurry,” you demand. He looks up and then begins his meal. He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer, ready to please you. His tongue laps at your folds and plunges into you a few times before he gets down to business. He locates your clit and begins to tease you, licking it for a split second before pulling back. You’re weak, taken over by lust for Jay and all he can do. He dives back and licks your clit again and when he pulls back you groan in frustration.

“Stop teasing me…” You whine.

“What do you say?” He teases.




“Not what I like to hear baby girl…”

“D-Daddy,” you moan and he dives back down. His tongue explores your core, licking up your juices that drip down, not wasting a drop. Suddenly, he sucks on your clit and it makes you quiver at his touch. A knot forms in your stomach and at first you tense up, unsure of what it happening exactly. This is new, but it’s good.

“Let it out baby, it’s natural,” he says, noticing your change. He begins stimulating you and you grow closer and closer to your climax. Your hands tug at his hair as you reach your orgasm, becoming a moaning and shaking mess. You cum hard on Jay’s tongue and he licks his lips, pleased. When he sits up you are still riding the high he caused. You look at him through half through closed eyes.

“That was great,” you smile softly.

“We’re not done yet baby, we have more to do…” He says and you feel ready just by his words. He strips his pants and boxers at the same time and he kicks them down to the floor. Your eyes widen, a bit shocked by his size. He twitches and you reach out to touch, but are cautious. This all seems so natural, but it’s new and odd.

“D-Do I?” You ask and he nods.

“Do what feels right. I’ll show you how to make me feel good like I do to you.”

He fills you with confidence as you take his length in your hand. You start to pump slowly and he nods, biting his lip. “Like that baby…Like that…” You continue by his encouragement. He places a hand on your bare shoulder and it tells you you’re doing well. You feel bold and try taking him into your mouth. You first only take in the tip and that alone makes Jay breath heavily. He tightens his grip on your shoulder and you try taking in more of him. You go deep, not realizing how deep and he hits the back of your throat and it makes you gag. You yank back and he chuckles.
“It’s okay. Just play with the tip, that’s the most sensitive part,” he suggests. You take his advice and stimulate his tip like he did your clit. With just a few licks and a few circles around him, he a moaning mes. He can no longer support himself on his knees, he’s fallen back and now that you’re more comfortable, you’ve pushed him back to lay down. You start to suck deeply again, careful of how much you take. You moan on him shaft and he moans loudly at the vibrations on his dick.

“Like that…Fuck…”

“You like that Daddy?”

“Yes, fuck…”

You do it again and he bucks his hips. You start to quicken, bobbing your head up and down him, faster and faster. He becomes a moaning mess, your name escaping as a breathy and lustful curse. Each time he makes a noise, you go faster. Soon, you’re going to fast, he cums. The warm seed flows into your mouth and he gasps and sputters. You pull back and sit back, Jay taking deep breaths, calming down from his high.

“That was good,” he nods, after he’s caught his breath.

“Yeah,” you giggle, crawling over him and kissing him. His lips still taste just as sweet. He holds your bare skin close to him and when he pulls from your lips he smiles.

“That’s enough for today.”

“You don’t wanna?”

“Oh trust me I do, but you’ve already won a lot tonight. How about we just wear comfy clothes and fall asleep?”

His sweet expression is impossible to deny so you nod. He gets you a pajamas outfit from his drawer and giggles at how big it is on you but admits you look so good in his stuff. “Next time, you won’t be able to get dressed standing up…I’ll have to help with that,” he winks.

anonymous asked:

Can you post all times Claire describes Jamie as "beautifully made?"

Hi anon - would you believe that it’s only twice, and each time is on a wedding night (of sorts)?


He was beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He raised his eyebrows.

“Well then, fair’s fair. Take off yours, then." 



I didn’t know quite what I had been expecting. In fact, the sight of his naked body took my breath away. He was still tall, of course, and beautifully made, the long bones of his body sleek with muscle, elegant with strength. He glowed in the candlelight, as though the light came from within him.

Asshole X Reader X Daryl Dixon

A small idea I had :) hope you like it

You had been rescued by Rick and his people for a what you thought was a couple of months now. They found you basically a pile of bones. The community at the prison was amazing. you had never met people who really cared about eachother so much in the world of the dead. You had made friends with most people except one. Daryl.

He was grumpy, quiet and always snapped at you. You had never done anything to hurt him or make him hate you but for some reason he did. Everytime you tried to help him or talk to him he would just shrug you off.
“I don’t need your help” Or “Just leave me”
You were tired of it all but there was nothing you could do. One thing that really got you was that he was so damn gorgeous and you couldn’t even talk to him.

That morning you were on one of the watch tower. It was gonna be a slow day seeing as some people were on the fence clearing walkers. You started to day dream about actually being with Daryl, going on runs together, waking up next to him, sneaking off together. When a cough behind you scared you half to death. You spun around to see Rick stood there and Daryl to his side. He wasn’t even looking at you.

“Hey” Rick said “Can you swap with Maggie? I might need you to go on a run later.”

You smiled “Yeah sure. Who am I going with?”

He rubbed his stubble “Erm well most people are busy so it may have to be Daryl.” You stomach turned. Runs with him were uncomfortable, silent and awkward.

He scoffed clearly thinking simialr to you.
“Awesome” You said quietly “Okay, I’ll get my shit sorted.” You walked around the men to go to the ladder but you accidentally nudged Daryl. When you got to the bottom of the ladder you heard his voice behind you.

“Hey!” You heard his feet pick up to catch up to you “Whats your problem?”

You spun around and looked at him “You!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your chest started to heave from anger "I’ve tried to so hard to talk to you or help you or do anything to be friends with you but all you do is par me off, snap at me and pretend I don’t exist! I care for you so much and you see me like a giant peice of shit. Fuck you. I’ll see you when I’m ready.” You turned your back on him and stormed a head. You could feel a tear coming to your eye but you brushed it away. This asshole was not going to bother you.

Daryl watched you walk away from him. He hated how he treated you. He didn’t want to upset you or make you hate him. He actually really liked you, the way your messy bob bounced around, the way your curves flowed, when your smile lit up any room you were in, your big beautiful eyes. He even loved that in all this shitty mess you just made it seemed better. He was horrible to you because he thought it was better to push you away then let you in and lose you. He hung his head as he heard you sniff. He couldn’t actually believe he had made you cry.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump. It was Rick.
“Hey man. You need to talk to her.”

“I can’t.”

“Well you sort this or I’m gonna get involved.”

“Allrigh, you aint my dad. I’ll figure something out.” He sighed not knowing what was going to happen or even if he could talk to her.

You stormed into your cell and threw your jacket on the bed. “Ahhhhh!! Why do I have to like him!” You said way louder than you meant to. You didn’t realise Maggie was in her cell next to you.

“Hey” She popped her head around into your cell “Daryl again?” Maggie was one person you could tell anything.

You gave her a half smile. “Yeahhhh. What can I do not to like him?”

She put her arm around your shoulders “Sorry but thats impossible. If he is being as dickish as he is and you still like him you’re fucked.” She laughed and you nudged her.

“Thanks you’re full of helpfull advice.”

“Look just go on this run and try to talk to him.”


She turned to look at you “What did you do?”

You pulled a face “I may have just shouted in his face.”

She sighed exasperated “You don’t help yourself. Just try not to shout at him out thee please. I want you both back alive.”

“Wellll, I suppose so but if he doesn’t come back I had nothing to do with it.” You let out a little chuckle.

Maggie left and you gathered your things together for the run. You left your cell with your stomach turning. For some reason you knew this run was going to be the worst. You can’t scream in some ones face and them not say anything to you after.

As you walked down to the gates where Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Carol stood you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. You reached them and everyone was smiing but Daryl. ‘Oh fuck me’ you thought.

Carol smiled at you “Becareful and try not to kill eachother.”

Daryl half smiled but you didn’t “I can’t promise anything” you said as you climbed in the passenger door.

In the car you drove dow the road in dead silence. He stared ahead while you stared out the window. A good 10 minutes had passed and you decided to say something. The whole day could not keep going like this.

“Hey look I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

He waited for a minute or 2 “No, it’s my fault. You were right.”

“No, I was just angry. I’ve only ever wanted to be a friend.”

“I’m sorry, I’m an asshole. I just don’t like making friends then losing them.” He wanted to tell you how much he cared for you, that he spent every night thinking about you. But you were just letting him in as a friend, theres no way he was going to screw this up now.

After a while the conversation was actually going nicely. You talked about your familys and laughed about things that happened with the others. Eventually you came across a house out in the middle of nowhere. By this time it was starting to get dark so you would need a place to sleep for the night. You both stood next to the car looking at the old half ripped down house.

“I bet you 2 smokes that theres a walker hidden in there.” You said with your hands on your hips.

He shook his head “You’re on, theres nothing out here for miles. All we’re gonna find is spiders and empty shelves.” He stook his hand out.

You shook his hand and smiled. On that you both took out your knives and walked forward up the steps. They creaked and crunched under your feet. You were really surprised you didn’t fall through them. The door just hung on it hinges. You went through first before Daryl could protest. The whole place was a shambles. Bits of wood and house parts just lay around. Everything was covered in dust and insects. You hated it because insects just made your skin crawl.

After checking the very limited rooms you both looked at eachother but unlike you he had a huge grin on his face.
“Looks like I win.”

You sighed “I supposed you do.” Just as you were about to hand over the cigarettes you noticed a cupboard door just behind his legs slowly swing open. You grabbed hold of his arm and threw him to the side.

“Woah.. What you…” The low groans of a walker cut him off.

The walkers body slumped slowly out of the cuboard but it was too weak to even crawl towards you. For the first time ever you could see the undead starving to death. If that made sense. You walked over to it and crouched down with your knife in hand.

“Looks like this one starved to death almost twice. Poor thing.” and on that you stabbed it in the head. You stood up to look at Daryl “Right, so we’re staying here tonight then?”

“Yeah I guess so. I don’t think we need to keep watch as I think we’re the first people here since this shit started.”

You both started to look around for stuff to sleep on. It was quite a futile search but in the end you had a blanket to lie on which wasn’t so bad.

You sat both sat on the floor leaning against one of the walls.

“You know I thought today was gona go so much worse.” You said as you inhaled the one of the smokes you had won.

“Yeah me too. I thought you wouldn’t even speak to me after how I’ve treated you.”

You shrugged “Ahh well, lifes to short to hold a grudge. Especially these days.”

You both decided to get comfy on the floor as much as you could but the little house was so cold it was nearly impossible. You lay there trying not to shiver for a good 5 minutes. Eventually you rolled over to face him. You shuffled a little closer to get some body heat from him. He didn’t seem to be shivering. Your hand accidentally brushed over his.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You said quietly “I’m just really cold.” In actual fact you were so close to the man you had a crush on your heart was in your ears. Even though it was so cold you knew you had rosey cheeks from this.

He shuffled even closer to you and put his arm over you “Is this a bit warmer?”

You snuggled yourself into him more “Thats amazing thank you.”

You lifted your head slightly so not to suffocate your self. You didn’t actually realise you were centimeters away from his face until you felt his breath on your lips. At this point there was no way he couldn’t hear how loud and fast your heart was beating. What if he was just doing this to keep you warm. He couldn’t like you. Scared you opened your eyes slightly to see what his expression was like. But he was looking at your lips. This was probably the only chance you were going to get and even if he did turn you down it coudn’t be any worse than it used to be.

Without thinking any more you gently pressed your lips against his. Just to test his reaction. Nothing happened.

You moved your head back embarrased and sat up “Oh god. I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t like me. Shit. Sorry.”

He sat up next to you and brushed some hair off your shoulder “Shut up. Of course I like you. I just don’t want to have you then lose you.”

Luckily in the dark he couldn’t really see you frowning. Daryl have feelings? and for you? This had to be a joke. You turned to face him “You like me?”

“Are you kidding of course I like you. Look at you.”

You smiled for a second.

“Oh fuck this” He whispered. Then out of no where he grabbed your face and pushed his lips against yours hard. Your stomach flipped over and over as you both fell into a passionate kiss. After a while you both lay back smiling. You knew sex was off the cards that night. It was too gross and too cold. You lay there looking at eachother till you both drifted off to sleep.

You woke the next morning to no Daryl. You sat up insantly, pulled your boots on and ran to the door. There was no way he could have left you. You started to panick when you couldn’t see him. A twig snapping noise made you turn to the side with your gun raised.

“Wow! Its only our second day together, don’t shoot me yet!” He said smiling. He had a dead deer draped over his shoulders.

“You asshole, I thought you left.” You lowered your gun.

“The cars still here stupid.”

You helped him get the deer into the boot of the car. The group would be happy he found something. Just as you were about to get in the car and head home you quickly ran back in the house. You came back out with your lighter that had ran out the night before.

“What use is that?” He said as you got in the drivers seat.

You shrugged “Well, its from the night we got together. I want to keep it.” You started up the car and sped off back on the road to home. Daryl hated your driving which you found so funny.

When you got back to the gates you could see Rick, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Carl and Hershal waiting. Way more people than usual, like they were waiting for good news. You smiled to yourself as you drove in and the gates closed behind you.

“I have an idea, follow my lead.” You whispered and winked to him. He just shook his head at you knowing exactly what was going off.

You got out the car at the same time and you slammed your door. “And also! Next time hows about just shoot me! Saves me from suffering another second with you!” You screamed at Daryl.

“I would happily!” He screamed back. Everyone looked so disheartened that we were still argueing. Daryl walked round the front of the car and stood infront of you trying his hardest not to smile.

“One more thing!” You shouted.

“Please spare me!” He shouted back.

On that you grabbed his jacket and pulled him towards you kissing him real hard. You pulled back and smiled “I fucking love you asshole.”

“I love you too asshole.”

You both looked at everyone laughing, they all started laughing back at you.

“You got us.” Carol shook her head.

“Sorry guys, you just looked to expectant of good news I had to play it up a little. But I need to go to a warm clean bed now.” You turned but winked at Daryl as you left.

He knew exactly what you wanted. He threw the car keys at Rick “Deer in the back, I’ve got some unfinshed business.” He said as he ran after you.

Maggie smiled looking at you both “Fucking finally.” She said to everyone else.

myklaineinthe67impala  asked:

Hi!! Sorry for bother you but a really want a teacher x student gradence au please please

“Barebone! I want to see you. In private.” Graves’ glare bore into the other students, their eyes rolling in an irked response to their overly dramatic instructor.

Loud clacking of dark dance shoes filled the studio, mirrors reflecting back the magnificent bodies of the students; some tall, some short, some thin, some larger, but all coordinated and elegant. Well, save for Credence. The boy’s limbs were gangly, seemingly disproportionate for his body, too long, moving in clumsy motions that often left the student upon the floor in a mess of bent legs and arms, back flat upon the hardwood floor, head throbbing from the cracking his skull made against the surface. His constant flailing coaxed stifled laughs from the remainder of the class, which were quickly shut down by a sharp, hissing shush that Graves would emit immediately, intolerant of any insubordination his students dared express. Credence would turn red, his brow sweating furiously in anxious embarrassment, damning the fact that he was required to take a liberal arts class despite his declared major; chemical engineering. 

Very much out of place, the boy had simply ended up in the class because he had to meet a requirement and this was the only available class. He had no choice lest he wanted to screw up his university schedule. Being tossed into the fray of daring, adventurous, outgoing dancers was discombobulating, confusing, distressing as they moved around him like elegant cranes as he flailed like a ruddy penguin who couldn’t see well. In the mirror in front of him, the boy’s frame shallow, bony and tall, unfit to be in tight clothing that showed his joints in what he imagined was horrifying to others, Credence saw but his pathetic self, dark and inept for what he was to do. Made worse, now he had finally attracted the attention of the instructor, no doubt because of the insistent screw ups he had during this particular class session, failing so badly that he had ended up smashing his jaw upon the ground and biting into his own tongue, blood seeping from his lip slowly; an ugly sight. He’d been sent out to clean up, the entire class murmuring, annoyed by the sorry interruption, frowning at the droplets that stained the boy’s button-up shirt a dark, disgusting red. Of course he would be reprimanded, how could a teacher accept such ineptitude in his own class, not to mention the fact that his teacher was known to show little care for his student’s emotions, asking only for great performance, expecting excellence. A sinking feeling drowned Credence’s entrails in his own abdomen, and he swallowed back the fear with an audible gulp.

“Yes…Yes sir…” Credence muttered in reply, his eyes wide for a moment before they lowered, a finger raising to scrape at a fleck of dried blood upon his chin, expression blatantly sad, vaguely afraid, and anxious. What else was to be expected from the walking mess that was Credence Barebone at the moment?

Graves trotted over to a corner, his every step calculated, wonderfully acted out, his lean body showcased through tight, flexible pants that clung to his flesh, and a collared shirt that lay unbuttoned down to the man’s mid-section. It did not take a much of a glance to dictate to anyone that the man was remarkably handsome, though his allure seemingly ended there. Graves spoke bluntly, lacking or withholding his ability to empathise with others, gruffly calling out students when they were acting immature, lashing out when one did something stupid. He had, several times, replied to Credence’s clumsy actions with witty, teasing remarks about how the boy contained the grace of a giraffe, complete with gamey limbs and a sorry appearance. How dark in the face had Credence become at such comments, hating many things simultaneously, but damning himself most of all. His hands grabbed at his own stomach, clutching at the ribs that protruded from his taut skin anxiously, a response he’d acquired while at university, grabbing whatever he could to keep his hands from clawing at his own flesh. 

Saying nothing, Graves pushed Credence close to the dance bar, a hand upon the small of the boy’s back guiding him. Credence braced himself by gripping the bar tight, and he gave a quizzical look towards the teacher, who simply raised his brow right back to Credence, his eyes looking straight at Credence, but without any sort of annoyance that he was used to, neatly stoic, with a vague sense of kindness. Credence felt the knot tying his intestines together loosen inexplicably. “P-Pardon…M-Mr. Graves…but wha-” Graves quickly put a finger to his lips and shushed the boy, asking for complete silence as he slid around Credence, his hands dancing upon the protruding hips beneath Credence’s thin pants, bone poking from the skin sharply. Gentle motions upon the young man’s iliac adjusted his posture and position, pushing and pulling slightly to get an appropriate alignment. Credence had no clue what was going on, only that his teacher was holding him by the hip, alone, just the two of them, and the realisation had begun to dawn on him, bringing a flush to his cheeks. 

“Relax.” Graves said with a husky voice, low, impatient, his eyes fixated upon Credence’s lower body, running rough fingers up and down the boy’s side, making miniscule adjustments that tickled Credence’s skin and left a burning sensation that was surprisingly pleasant. How was the boy to relax when he was being touched more intimately than he’d ever been before, thanks to Credence’s absolute lack of physical relationships, making him one of the most inexperienced young men on the campus, to his extreme embarrassment. “Raise you leg, like you tried to earlier.” Percival murmured to the boy, tone not rough, nor dominant, but nonetheless provoking enough to get Credence to tense. “W-What…?” Graves sighed and dug his fingers into the thin thigh, pulling upwards as he put his palm against the young man’s back and curved his spine. Credence gave a startled yipe, feeling the flush upon his neck and chest now, his ear afire, and his body tingling oddly. “There you go…”
Credence gawked at the mirror, seeing his body contorted, but beautiful, flowing naturally with the curves of his body, held in place by Graves’ strong build, gentle, but firm hands on his flesh. And even more perplexing than the image he was reflected in the mirror, were the roiling emotions in his chest that made his heart flutter in his throat much too pleasantly. He choked on his own breath and lost his balance rapidly, slipping upon his planted foot and crashing down on the floor, his ribs slamming into the ground painfully, a cry sounding from his throat, high-pitched, surprised. “M-Mr. Graves!” He shouted, just reflexively.

Percival, to his own misfortune, found himself clinging to Credence in a weak hope that he could prevent the boy from falling, but was met with the untimely effect of Gravity and found himself upon his own student, an entanglement of limbs, his face brought down on Credence’s chest hard and fast, his jaw sore immediately. “Oh…damn it…” Graves groaned, rubbing his aching flesh with a rough palm and shaking his head, trying to find his footing, but only grabbing Credence’s flesh, and awkwardly trying to touch his student, for obvious reasons. For a moment, they looked at one another, eyes wide, surprised, embarrassed both, and as Credence opened his mouth to shout, “I’M SO SORRY, MR. GRAVES!”, the teacher broke into a boisterous laughter and rolled off the young man’s chest to lay beside him in a giggling fit. The hilarity he found in the situation calmed Credence instantly, a wash of joy removing the pain that throbbed in his back, loosening his taut muscles and even tugging at the corners of his lips until he himself was also chuckling quietly alongside Percival’s cacophony. 

They lay for a few moments, the separation of teacher and student forgotten, and the moment simply taken in, exchanging playful glances that only elicited further laughing, until Graves broke the comedic scene. “You know, you really are beautiful, even if you are not the most graceful dancer…with just a bit of guidance, you could really put your form to use. It’s absolutely perfect for perfomance, gorgeous.” Credence bit his lip and turned his head to look at Percival, quickly sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest, shaking his head nervously. “N-No…. I mean, I’m…I’m not…trust me…Mr. Graves.” Percival shot a look at the boy and shifted to lay upon his folded legs, leaning forwards. “Credence, I’ve seen you move. While it’s unorthodox, it is truly wonderful it its own way…” Graves fought the urge that had been yanking at him for weeks now. “I’m serious, Credence. You’re different…” He neared. “But it’s not bad.” Graves’ nose nearly pushed against Credence’s now and the boy’s breath was held back, but he refused to shy away from Graves’ advances. “It just makes you special…” And Graves craned his neck, pressing his lips to Credence’s, thinking to himself, “Fuck…I’m kissing my own student, but I don’t give a damn.”