sexta-feira, 7 de junho de 2013

Ginger Haole After Dark


My dear, brilliant friend Amanda has written, at my behest, an AMAZING and intense piece of erotica starring the late and also brilliant composer Gustav Mahler, who she is in love with. I know it isn't your usual cup of tea, most of you, but I think you should read this, because it's incredible, and you will be richer for it. Also: sex.


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Did this a while ago, and I just love it still. It turned out...

Did this a while ago, and I just love it still. It turned out exactly as I wanted it to. To think, I got so much flack for much tamer Toy Story art, telling me I was some kind of terrible human for perverting characters from a beloved children's movie. I kept thinking, So, this is your first day on the internet, huh?

mishaswhore was telling me about this very sexy daydream she had...

mishaswhore was telling me about this very sexy daydream she had about Cas and Dean as teenage Catholic schoolgirls, with Cassie being super shy and bookish, and Dee slowly flirting her way into her heart. Studying together, listening to music, trying on clothes, etc. I imagined Dee bringing Cas this pair of stockings, having her sit on her bed while she put them on, making Cas hike up her skirt so she could pull them up all the way…

I love Dee as a tomboy. I think that's such a sexy haircut on a girl.

hey, i love your art! i was just curious, though, is there a reason you don't draw body hair, or is it just a whatever thing? :)

Ha ha, I kind of knew I'd get called out on that after posting the Bowie drawing. I actually have no issue with body hair on any gender (my husband is a furry guy), I guess it's just kind of awkward to draw? Which means I should practice. Because yeah, it does look weird to have zero body hair sometimes.

Like, when I draw Cas with a beard, it looks off to me, but I guess that's just technique.

I did this years ago as part of a little fan-held art contest...

I did this years ago as part of a little fan-held art contest where the only rule was that you had to draw David Bowie's area. I really wanted that coffee table book, but alas, I didn't win. This was fun anyway. I love hours-era Bowie so much. Probably not the least bit accurate, and he ended up with really femme hands, but. Look at the pretty stripes.

I haven't used my illustration markers in a long, long time, and I really should, because they could be so beautiful.

I was just wondering if you plan on posting the full image of David Bowie masturbating that deviantart censored?

You know, that's not a bad ideer. It was done a while ago, though, so it might not be as impressive as you expect. ;D

For Puppy, who is a special fan of polyamory, and especially the...

For Puppy, who is a special fan of polyamory, and especially the Jo/Dean/Castiel pleasure trifecta. Me, I just want everybody to get with everybody. Well, almost everybody.

I love the idea of Cas being super shy about fooling around. You know, wanting to, just being really bashful, and Jo and Dean just being be like, Alright, no more pussyfootin' around. You bout to git it.

Castiel's making Dean practice writing Enochian. So, I...

Castiel's making Dean practice writing Enochian.

So, I literally this moment realized that I made Dean left-handed, and there is just no way to fix that without redrawing the whole thing. But hey, Enochian is supposed to be written right-to-left, so, maybe it makes, um… Aw, I don't know.

Not exactly NSFW since Dean's got his jockeys on, but let's imagine there's some sexy reward system for a job well done.

Rule 63 Established Relationship Destiel.

plenty-of-paper is the one who wrote the wonderful little short for my Lady Dean drawing, which was apparently just a warm-up for this delicious (and really touching) Deanne/Castiel piece. I love it so, so much!


Here is the naughty Destiel fic I wrote for gingerhaole. Well, I started it with the intentions of being naughty and ended up with ~feelings~.

Deanne wakes on a soundless scream, the thud of blood pounding in her ears, her skin sticky with sweat and fear and adrenaline. She feels Cas wake and turns to her to apologize.

"Don't," Cas says, her voice scratchy with sleep, before Deanne can even open her mouth.

"You know, it's really creepy when you do that," she says instead, because it's the only thing she can think to say. She sits up, scrubs her face with her hands - angry that tears have formed in her eyes. Cas scoots closer, presses up against her back (Deanne realizes she's shaking), rests her weight on one hand, runs the other through Deanne's hair, rests her cheek on Deanne's shoulder.

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A few years ago, this drawing got me suspended from DeviantArt....

A few years ago, this drawing got me suspended from DeviantArt. It made me so sad, because the response I got was overwhelming from girls who had had fears about letting someone go down on them. I had the same issue for a long, long time, until it got through to me how much my partner enjoyed it. It can be so romantic.

(Wrote this for a couple people who reblogged the “Put a dirty fanfic in my Ask”...

(Wrote this for a couple people who reblogged the “Put a dirty fanfic in my Ask” thing. Lady Dean and Lady Cas.)
"Cas, please… please—" Deanne is beyond words, hiccuping with desire, back bent hard and trembling, one foot slipping in the awkward wedge under the Impala's rear windshield, the other leg hooked tight over Cas's shoulder, toes pressed to the door. Her jeans are bunched awkwardly around one foot, still in her boot. "Baby, yes, yes— God—"

Castiel, focused, does not shush her, listens closely for the hum of her vibrations and moves into a rhythm with her, playing her like music. She curls her fingers inside Deanne, fingertips working the soft, complex depths, and she finds herself lost in the anatomy of her, how strange and perfect it all is, and yet how imprecise fooling around can be for someone still learning. She looks up from the valley of Deanne's thighs and a blossom of desire opens in her, somewhere superphysical — her charge is cut into blocks of blue moonlight and yellow sodium lamplight, body rolling like ocean waves, nipples wet from where Castiel has kissed them. Both hands grip the armrest upside-down above her head, muscles flexing, shimmering with sweat, begging, undone in her angel's hands.

Castiel bows her head and addresses Deanne's swollen clit with the firm tip of her tongue, and Deanne kicks the door and sobs a curse, tight around Castiel's fingers. A thrill of pride darts through the swell of pure affection as Castiel works her, feeling the girl's temperature rise. The taste of her is human and sweet, and she tastes her like soft fruit, dripping down the back of her wrist, the hard pearl of her clit slipping against her wet mouth. She can feel Deanne's nerves flickering and she sucks gently, driving her fingers in a steady rhythm as Deanne moans through gritted teeth and punches the roof of the car, nails scratching into the felt.

Castiel raises her head to look at her for just a moment and Deanne gasps, "No! No, no, please—" She is bracing herself with one hand and the other slips into Castiel's cool, soft hair. She can feel in the tension how badly Deanne wants to push her face between her legs, and she obliges. Yes, she thinks, I will do anything for you. Things that had seemed beneath her so recently became beautiful when they pleased Deanne, and she wanted them. It was the first time she had ever really wanted something for herself.

Deanne came suddenly, a quick upswing of her moaning into gasping, and Castiel was overwhelmed with sensation; the uncontrolled spasming in Deanne's legs, the tight arch of her back, a fistful of her hair in Deanne's hand, the waves of heat oscillating through her as clearly as light, the warm flood over her fingers as she pulsed with her heartbeat — but most of all, the sound of her name (Cas!) repeated like a desperate prayer, slurring as she unraveled, as Castiel held her powerless with just her tongue, just her fingertips.

She slowed, withdrew, and Deanne's fist unclenched, petting apologetically through Castiel's hair as she caught her breath. Cas pressed her cheek against Deanne's stomach, listening to the soft hammer of her heart, running wet fingers over her moonlit thigh.

"Damn, where are you learning this stuff?" Deanne wondered, breathless, stroking her temple. "'Cause it's not from me."

"Of course it is," Castiel murmured, wondering if she sounded too obviously in love. "I just pay attention."

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