#ata glance

[gutstung]

... @ata-glance, continued from here.

𝐀 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧; why'd she have to say it like that? That name was going to follow him to the grave and beyond, and it would be all his own fault for insisting on such an irrelevant alias. The welt forming on his neck complained as he tipped his chin placidly, forcing a hiss from between clenched teeth. This was either an intervention or an interrogation, he couldn't decide, but her lack of bedside manner tilted him to the latter. She stood too straight, spoke too properly, and moved too methodically—in his opinion—and while he had dodged her gaze since he awoke, her scrutiny was less avoidable. Judgement bubbled in his gut. ❛ Don't know. ❜ He didn't partake in her amusement, his response equally clipped, albeit low with exhaustion. ❛ Probably some assholes looking for a way in on whatever dodgy shit is going on in this place. ❜ A huff escaped, and his shadowed greens finally met hers for a brief moment before darting away again. His tail would remain between his legs, for now.

[riftward]

(good boy Arlo~ please :3c)

🌘 : how hard is it to really know them?

🧨 : what pushes them past the point of restraint?

🫠 : is it easy for them to get turned on, or do they need emotional safety first?

🌘 001. I wouldn't say it's the most difficult task. Arlo doesn't hide much beyond the fact he talks to ghosts (and he only does this because he knows people will think he's doolally), he omits information, but doesn't everyone? He's not someone who will overshare with a stranger, but he's not be elusive, either. Surface level Arlo is very much his real self, there is just plenty under the surface. Thing is, since he lost his parents, he's just not used to people wanting to know him. I mean, his nickname around town is 'Connie' just because of his family name, but even that stopped feeling personal to him. He is 'Connie' because there are no other O'Connor's. That's all. He's the marker for the last, and folks are fine with him existing in that isolation. No wonder he talks to ghosts.

🧨002. Arlo has always been a gentle soul. A shy kid, maybe a bit of a pushover — until a weird little girl helped him with that. At his core, he's extremely patient. His life is quite slow, restraint comes easy. His weakness protectiveness, maybe a touch of possessiveness. And it's not just for people. Deface something he's worked hard on and he's going to be mega pissed. Hurt someone he loves, and a very tall, very angry man is coming for you. His lives by the simple notion of "pick on someone your own size", so if you're causing trouble and punching down, he can be pushed to beat the shit outta ya.

🫠 003. By a stranger? No. He doesn't do that. He needs some form of bond with them, even if it's a very mutual spark over a few pints or glasses of wine, rare, but it's something. But with someone he knows and likes? It's not that difficult. He's always up for it, he's just easily preoccupied. Likes to do things with his hands. Sometimes forgets some things he can do with his hands can be very, very fun. If you want to catch him horny without any trigger, wait until morning. He probably won't let you out of bed.

[gutstung]

🎲

send 🎲 to generate a kiss!

035. A kiss against a wall

Frustration bubbled in his gut. An endless string of little triggers peppered by the world's tiniest human torture device. Dealing with Linea proved difficult at times, yet so deliciously addictive; Axel was already finding himself hooked. Before she had chance to even finish her last verbal jab about his sense of style or his tattoos, he hooked an arm around her waist and hoisted her against the nearest wall with ease, his body a firm weight against hers.

❛ No more talking. ❜

His forearm leant against the wall just above her head and his head dipped, capturing her lips with a unabashed sigh of relief. A deep exhale fanned over her cheek as his head tilted, tasting the sweetness of menthol on his tongue, before pulling back with her gloss and whole bunch of smugness on his lips. Brows raised with a flash of cockiness; is that what you wanted?

[gutstung]

9. Are they quick or slow to turn on? What's something that never ceases to get them in the mood? 18. Do they enjoy licking the sweat off their partner? If not do they use their tongue in other ways? 20. Muns choice! Talk about whatever you want to here.

:)

send me 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

009. Depends. He can just switch himself off from it, he's not a cat in heat or a teenager. That being said, he's horny as fuck. If he knows he's wanted, he's quick and easy to turn on. be greedy with him, get your hands under his shirt or in his pants and he'll want to bend you over the nearest surface. If you smell particularly nice, he's gonna want his nose up in your neck, and he won't be held accountable for what happens after that. 018. He is absolutely not opposed to it! Nothing on a partner's body will gross him out, and he particularly enjoys the taste of someone who's worked hard when he's going down. Don't be shy, no need to shower, sweat adds flavour. 020. He can go more than once, easily. Stamina is not an issue, but he's going to try his best to tire his partner out until they can't take it anymore and are complete putty in his hands. He's greedy in more ways than just food.

[gutstung]

🐕🦢🐉

🐕 How hard is it earn your muses loyalty?

I mean ... it can be bought, but to earn it is much harder. A contract will keep him loyal. A fat wad of cash will keep him loyal. He has morals, of course, but survival takes over at times. Anyway, earning his loyalty will take proof that he can trust you. The shadier someone is, the harder it is for him to trust, naturally. He's fairly sensitive, and certainly not stupid. Consistent small gestures will chip away at his walls until he realises your motives come with nothing ulterior or sinister. Risking yourself for him will automatically mean he owes you — willingly. He won't forget that. Cheat sheet: feed him, accept him, have his back. Rinse and repeat until he values you.

🦢 Does your muse care much about appearances or presentation?

It would be easy to say no, but that would be a lie. Even while trying to portray the idea that he doesn't give a fuck what people think, he usually dresses to upkeep an image. When he's not doing a job, he's not lazy with his look, his hair is usually styled to be kept out of the way (and messed up just a little for flavour), his clothes are usually in layers of complementary pieces of thrifted grunge stuff he's found over the years. The tattoos, though, some of those were definitely poor decisions, but he forces himself to show them instead of hide them — ink on his skin is an easier mistake for him to accept.

🐉 Is your muse possessive?

Axel is a shelter dog that is prone to guarding resources. So yeah, kinda. He can become possessive of someone if he feels anxious he might lose them. It's something he doesn't like about himself and something he would perhaps have to face if he doesn't want to ruin something good. Other than that, he's pretty chill. He's not gonna control you, you're a grown adult and free to do as you please.

[gutstung]

"I’ve got you"

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, left sclera stained red with pooling blood. The fight hadn't been fair — if you could call it a fight. There's nothing honourable about dogpiling a lone guy in an alley, but then Axel had learned a million times over that there's nothing honourable about this fuckass city. It simply eats and eats, just like him. Flashes of his last conscious moments swim around his aching head as he leaned over himself on the metal chair. Elbows to knees, head in hands ... groaning. They had gone straight for the head — they had known not to give him time to simply disintegrate them — and he'd gone down like a felled tree. His back and chest were a mess of scratches and gashes, skin split from the impact of boots. It was, however, the shame that stung more, to be caught so off-guard; he hadn't felt like a target in a long while. The pounding in his head dulled the burning of whatever alcohol was being dragged over his skin by the same woman who seemed to always be in the right place at the right (or wrong?) time. Talking felt like a risky move around her, but he had awoken to her help, and even a little gratitude was in order. ❛ ........ Thanks. Didn't plan on ending tonight in a body bag ... or a dumpster. ❜