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blujaydoodles · 1 year

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What's Aubree's coolest story about how she got one of her scars? (Besides the one she doesn't talk about)

"Although, really it's a bit of a stupid story if I'm being honest, but the scar's cool as hell and that counts for something, yeah?

“It was one of my first jobs with a trade caravan, just as an extra pair of hands-- green as I was, they wouldn’t have hired someone like me as an armed guard even if I’d thought to offer back then, but it’s easy enough to prove I can haul shit around, and not a lot of folks are keen to take the pass north of Stormridge in any case so they were happy for the extra help.

"We were five days into the Wildcrest Mountains-- about halfway through. It was just starting to get into nightfall, and we were trying to push through to a sheltered spot one of the guards knew was a little ways ahead to camp for the night, when we heard the howlin up in the ridges, and comin down toward us.

"Now, we get wolves out in Crickhollow, sometimes; usually just one by itself skulkin round the pastures, and if they can catch em in time it mostly only takes a few dogs to run em off back where they came. We’d spotted some goblin scouts makin eyes at the caravan a few days earlier and spooked em away easy enough with a bit of barkin of our own, so when we heard the wolves I figured I knew what we were in for. But let me tell you: wolves in the mountains are different than the ones you get round halfling country. It’s cold, and hard, and it makes em strong, and it makes em hungry.

"We had six armed guards with us, proper kitted with swords and shields and all, and of course I was out there with Corker, hangin back a bit just not to get underfoot of em. They were spreadin out to circle the wagons, but the wolves had the jump on us and came leapin out the dark before we were ready. Biggest godsdamned things I ever saw! One slipped through and went straight for the horses, but I was ready for him-- hit him midair and sent him reelin away, and I figured that’d be the end of it for that one. Turned around and saw another one was lungin and snappin at one of the guards-- skinny lad called Derek-- and had him in a bad way; it’d got him offbalance, and looked about to take him down. I was to em before I could even think-- well, what else could I have done? The wolf had got its teeth in him, but it didn’t see me coming-- I hauled off-- WHACK-- cracked him square in the face, must have damn near caved his skull in! Just as he was getting his bearings, and I was pulling back for another swing-- the bloody bastard I’d clipped earlier came in from behind and sank every damn one of his teeth into me, and dragged me to the ground.

"Well, Derek managed to get his feet under him in time to stop the other one from jumpin in and tearin my damn guts out, but only just. The one that had me by the shoulder had a death grip on me-- I was swinging Corker round like mad, but I couldn’t get any good blows in like that, on the ground and backwards and with only one arm. Still put in a fair fight, for all that-- I was snarlin like a beast myself, grabbin for its face with my left hand best I could. Then suddenly he dropped me, yowling somethin awful. Another guard, big fella called Radimir, saw him layin into me and ran him straight through. Good thing, too! If I’d been alone out there that would have been it for me. Stupid way to learn not to put your back to a wolf, but it’s always better to have friends to back you up anyway. Especially when you’ve got more muscles than good sense, haha!

"Anyway, the rest of the pack did take off after seeing we could put up more fight than they wanted-- they’re tough, not stupid. No one was hurt except a couple of the fighters and myself, and we made it to the outpost just fine. I hadn’t really imagined I’d be spendin my first couple weeks in Pelora laid up all in bandages with a broken collar, but hey, it gave me a good story for breakin ice at taverns. Bit more impressive to talk about than this-- [she points to one mark among many on her arms, brown with age]-- that I got trying to help with the bakin when I was six…"

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #halfling #fighter #'this will be better if I answer as Aubree telling the story herself rather than me giving a tl;dr'#-- me- a fool- as if I haven't spent the last three years shedding brain cells and forgetting how to write #things she doesn't add when she tells the story: by 'we get wolves in crickhollow' she just means crickhollow in general #her family are vintners; she'd never *personally* had to deal with wolves herself at all before this #once the wolf that had her on the ground let her go she was IMMEDIATELY back up on her feet and still swinging #he probably didn't need the assist at that point but she and Radimir actually killed that wolf together #and she was still on her feet and asking Derek if HE was alright when the blood loss caught up with her and she passed tf out #she made some 'that was stupid-- but goodhearted and brave' friends AND earned some 'what a fucking jackass' scorn that night #she couldn't help with unloading goods at the end of the journey and tried to refuse payment because of it #but they insisted because-- among other things-- she'd protected the horses and they would have been really up a creek if she hadn't #also she tends to handwave the cooking scars but if anyone seems interested she's actually really happy to talk about them!#THANK YOU FOR ASKING sorry it took me so long to answer!!#I already had this sketch! it was more done than I thought actually #my OCs #Aubree #ruins of creation #dungeons and doodles

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sabertoothwalrus · 2 months

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here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

#do yall like this sort of post…?#my art #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #chilchuck tims

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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year

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another one of these posts lol... sketches vs final. not much changed for these ones, i kind of went into them with a very solid mental image already in my head. all of these were done start to finish in procreate

thoughts below the cut

horse fight .... this is based off a really really beautiful sky i saw while driving home one evening. i'm really proud of getting the colours i saw exactly right, this kind of greenish yellow fading to dark blue and with grey clouds low over it that looked very dark against the yellow by the horizon, but very pale against the dark blue.

i thought it would be a cool backdrop to draw a scene i've been thinking about for a while. The little cartoony horses are there to provide some tonal whiplash but also because these are two immortal shapeshifters who can fight violently without it being a huge deal. the little horses represent the actual gravity of the fight (that is, kind of a slap fight between two drama queens) which contrasts with the visuals of two animals brutally tearing at eachother. also i got the two horses at the bottom mixed up, Pascal is the one with the skinny plumed tail and Macha has a more traditional horse tail and i put them on the wrong sides.

i had a LOT of trouble shading this. i didn't want the horses to be too shiny but that meant a much lower contrast in shading and even with my screen brightness turned up i could barely see what i was doing. but i wanted it to read as realistic. mixed results i think. if i did it again i might try a different shading style because this one didn't really do it for me

spooky van!!! the post i deleted by accident (rip. i will repost it soon). this is a picture of the barrow (the field) taking a different shape - in this case a cool van. the van contains every single thing the field does (including the human victims that get lost in there...) but compressed down into a manageable shape. the void is Pascal because the field is inside him. he did this for his human bf to provide novel way to travel through the Otherworld. don't ask how this works like, spatially, because the answer is: i don't do hard magic systems in this setting

i loooove shading things with pencil hatching and i really like contrasting it with smooth colours/shading so that's mainly what i did here. it was simple enough. the van is of course heavily referenced and i wish i had been able to stylise it a little more.. maybe next time. i want to draw a kind of cutaway illustration of the van showing exterior and interior (like an old blueprint schematic), which i might use as a cover for the book/comic/whatever but that will require a very intimidating level of precision so i think i'll work up to that.

RUA magazine. this is my third time doing a rua magazine cover (first time posting tho). this is an in-universe magazine distributed throughout the Otherworld to an audience of fairies. in the sketch, the illustation was originally the King of Pentacles tarot card (the pentacle being the disco ball). but i decided to make a different King of Pentacles card for him instead, since I try hard to move away from symmetrical composition for the tarot cards (it's boring). so i repurposed this one into another magazine cover. like i said Pascal is a self-absorbed attention whore and has a habit of giving bullshit interviews just so that he can be on the cover as much as possible. he dresses like this all the time (the year is 2017)

the disco ball took 15 years off my life and it's not even the first disco ball i've drawn! i finished my actual king of pentacles card before i finished the rua cover sketch, so i can show u this

which is much better even if i did reference so heavily that it isn't exactly stylised. but this card needs some serious revision before i even think about posting it. i'm just not happy with his face.

original intent was for it be mysterious with emphasis on the neon lights but it ended up far more suggestive than i expected. that's life!

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bisexual-thoughtss · 1 year

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Tim Laflour x Reader

Summary; art student!reader asks Tim to pose for a drawing, sexual tension ensues

“You want me to what?” Tim startles at your request and the blush on your face deepens.

“I know it’s a weird ask, but it’s for my figure drawing class,” you tell him.

“You want me to pose nude for you,” he repeats and you nod. You know it’s a strange request for your best friend, but you desperately need a subject to draw and it’ll be purely professional. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“You don’t have to be fully nude! Tasteful, really. Artfully draped fabric,” you explain with full puppy dog eyes, even though he’s already agreeing.

“Only for you,” he grumbles, putting on a show of being put out about it.

“Thank you!! I’ll get my stuff, set up on the couch!” You rush to gather your drawing kit as you leave Tim to prepare himself.

“Ready?” You ask as you walk back in. Tim is waiting for you on the couch, a sheet pooled around his hips.

“As I’ll ever be,” he laughs. You pull up a chair, setting up your small portable easel with your sketchbook and spreading out your various charcoal pencils and erasers.

You frown as you look up and see how awkwardly Tim is sitting on the couch. You give him directions on how to sit, but it’s still not right.

“Can I pose you?” You finally ask after a few minutes of unsuccessful maneuvering.

“Yeah, sure,” he sounds nervous but you figure it’s just the nudity he’s nervous about.

After closing the curtains, you turn on a lamp for a more direct light source before moving to situate him. You start arranging his limbs much more gracefully than he was previously sitting. He’s forced to lay on his side as you usher his legs up onto the cushions, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch. He rests his head on his hand as you arranged the sheet to drape well in the light while still covering his modesty. You school your features into carefully neutrality as your hand accidentally brushes against him through the sheet, not willing to give away how much it had affected you. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin and all you wanted to do was touch. The light casts shadows against the dips of his muscles formed from years of hockey practices, while his broad shoulders are starkly highlighted under the lamp. Taking his chin in hand, you tip his face toward the light with a small smile.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise before you think better of it. Watching the way the blush on his cheeks spreads down his neck to his chest is worth your embarrassment at letting that slip from your mouth. You turn and sit behind your sketch pad, pretending you hadn’t said anything.

Unbeknownst to you, Tim was having a small crisis in his head. It had taken all of his willpower and several unfortunate thoughts to keep from pitching a tent in the sheet as you were arranging it, and once you called him pretty and looked at him like that, he knew he was done for. He stays as still as he can while you’re staring at him while you draw. He’s seen you draw before, but you’ve never looked like this. You’re looking at him like he’s actually a work of art and he’s not sure how long he can take it. He sincerely hopes you won’t notice that he’s been half hard since you touched him. He’s doing everything he can to will away his hard on but watching you stare at him like that is ruining his resolve. Deep in thought, the end of your pencil finds it’s way between your teeth as you give his body a once over and he feels himself twitch. Your soft intake of breath alerts him that you definitely noticed and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“So how do you like it?” You ask casually as you continue drawing, his mind clawing its way out of the panicked, horny rabbit hole it had fallen down to try and answer you.

“I- what?” He asks dumbly, your smirk hidden from him behind your paper. You could tell he was getting riled up, the tent under the sheet growing by the second.

“Modeling, you seem to be enjoying it,” you say neutrally, your double entendre not lost on either of you.

“Y-yeah, it’s alright. I don’t think I’d want to do it for anyone else,” he tells you, worrying his lip between his teeth. You can tell he’s embarrassed about getting hard in front of you, but you can’t help teasing him a little more.

“You sure? Seems like you like being looked at like this,” you smirk, confident in the strokes of your pencil and in your flirting.

“Just.. just by you,” he mumbles.

“Yeah? I don’t think I want you to model for anyone else either, want to keep you to myself. You look so good like this,” you hum, watching him struggle not to squirm under your gaze. You rise from your perch to walk towards him and he makes no move to get up.

“You can get dressed now, or…” you pause, watching his pupils dilate at the unspoken words, “I could reward you for being such a good model? If you want?”

You’re giving him an out just in case. Your friendship wasn’t something you wanted to sacrifice, but you’re pretty sure he wants this just as much as you do.

“Please,” he murmurs nodding up at you, pulling you closer by your hips. His fingertips slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up over the swell of your breasts. You yank it the rest of the way off as he noses at your skin, leaving a trail of kisses up your torso before reaching up to pull the cups of your bra down and attach his lips to your chest. You gasp at the suddenness of it, your hands clutching at his shoulders for stability. He clumsily unhooks your bra as he continues lavishing your breasts with sloppy open mouthed kisses. Your hands find their way to his hair as your back arches, pressing him more firmly to you. He groans into your skin as he pushes your shorts and underwear down in one go, leaving love bites down your torso as he does. He barely allows you enough time to step out of them before he’s burying his face between your thighs. You double over at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, his hands clutching your ass and pulling you closer. He shifts your leg, settling it over his shoulder to give him more access. You wobble unsteadily for a second but his arms cage you in and hold you up.

“This is not- ohh my god, not what I thought you’d want as a reward,” you moan, barely getting the sentence out as his tongue works against you. Whatever he may have said in reply was muffled, unintelligible words vibrating against you deliciously.

You can’t even focus on what you’re saying as praise falls from your lips, the swirl of his long tongue against you effectively melting your brain. His tongue dips into your entrance, and you’re sure he can’t breathe with the way he presses his face against you but he doesn’t seem to be worried about it as his lips move to suction around your clit. Burying your hands in his hair to hold him close to you, you can’t help but buck against him. His answering moan directly against your clit has a string of curses falling from your mouth as you fall over the edge. He works you through it, before moving to lap up the mess down your thighs. You struggle to get your breathing under control as he finally leans back, letting your leg fall from his shoulder. Your legs feel like jelly, and Tim realizes a second before you do that they’re not going to support you. He helps you sink to the ground softly so you don’t hurt your knees and you giggle all the way down.

“What’s so funny, eh?” He asks, mock offended.

“That was the best head I’ve ever gotten,” you sigh dreamily, head resting against his thigh as you calm down and he snorts. After a moment you get your wits about you again and remember what you actually had in mind and snatch the sheet away. His gasp at the sudden cold air turns into a moan as you kiss teasingly around his cock, never quite touching him. A stuttered please is all it takes to convince you to have mercy on him. You lick along his length, a broken moan falling from his lips as you swirl your tongue around his head. Your tongue dips into his slit teasingly and his hands twitch at his sides. You take him in your mouth but you can tell he’s still holding back. You whine around him and he jerks at the sudden vibrations, hands finally coming up to grab your head. Still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t push or direct you, his hands simply resting in your hair and grounding you as you suck. You move back to his jewelry, teasing around it with your tongue before you wrap your lips around the metal, humming lightly. The effect is instantaneous as Tim dissolves into whimpers under you, thighs twitching as he squirms. All the teasing does him in quickly, his grip on your head tightening as he jerks underneath you with a whine.

“Please, please, please,” he chants incoherently and you have mercy on him, taking him back down your throat as he comes undone. After you swallow, you look up to find him staring down at you in awe. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your mouth when you see the state he’s in.

“I made such a mess, I’m so sorry,” you laugh, taking in the smeared charcoal on his skin. Along his shoulders, on his forehead, up his thighs, everywhere you look.

“You can make a mess of me literally anytime,” he grins, pulling you up onto the couch to cuddle with him.

#tim laflour x reader #tim laflour #senseless #tim laflour imagine #senseless 1998 #matthew lillard x reader #matthew lillard

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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everyone but her pt.3

a/n: dont mind me, just posting at work. EDIT: previously titled about time

Word Count: 3.0k Warnings: mention of past injury, hints of past abuse, swearing Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

There was still an ache in your shoulder when you sat down in your phytotoxicology class. It was decently scabbed (which was beyond itchy) but the actual joint was sore. You had hoped it would ease up a bit over the weekend, but to no avail. Hopefully no one had really noticed your stiff movements. But hey, at least you were left handed.

“You look miserable,” Wednesday said as she sat to your left.

“Shut up, Addams,” you mumbled.

Enid sat behind the two of you, her eyes glued to where your hands were resting on the desk. If you just moved your hand a few inches to the left. And if you could talk just a little louder so she could hear, that would be great. She needed to know what you two were talking about. If it wasn’t about a date then she was going to scream. She just wanted you both to get over yourselves.

Class went on as usual; Enid was forced to bear witness to you doodling in Wednesday’s notebook, completely interrupting her notes. In turn, Wednesday would add rather… violent attachments to your initial drawing, and the cycle would continue. She couldn’t see your face, but your shoulders would shake with silent laughter every few doodles. You were both so close.

“Miss Y/N?”

Your head snapped up, turning toward the front where Miss Thornhill was standing with an expectant look.

“Adonis vernalis,” you said proudly without hesitation.

“Not even close,” Miss Thornhill said with a smile while everyone failed to stiffle their giggles. “See me after class.”

“Aw man,” you mumbled as you slumped back into your seat. All that pep in your step had been washed away.

Quite frankly, Enid thought it was hilarious.

She rushed to catch up with Wednesday as you stayed behind to talk to Miss Thornhill. For such a small person, Wednesday could move really fast. It was starting to become an issue because Enid was not dressed for jogging across campus. God, why couldn’t she just slow down?

“It seems it’s impossible to get away from you,” Wednesday said when Enid finally caught up; she slowed her pace anyway.

“Did you-”

“-No, and I’m not going to,” Wednesday interrupted.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Enid pouted.

“You were going to ask if I have asked Y/N on a date, and the answer is no.”

“Then I give up,” Enid said as she threw her hands into the air. “You two are far too stubborn. Enjoy the friendzone.”

She stalked off, trying not to smile to herself when she noticed Wednesday had stopped walking. With any luck, her plan would work splendidly and you would both be together before Parent’s Weekend in a month. It may have taken her a little longer than planned to come up with such a genius idea, but it was going to be worth it.

—---

It was truly a beautiful day to be outside. Overcast skies, a cool breeze, potential for rain. Not the best day to fly, but a wonderful time to walk around. Maybe you could stop by the lake, tease the monsters below the surface. At least you would if you weren’t stuck in the greenhouse.

Miss Thornhill was truly, and you meant this with the utmost respect, a bitch. So maybe you didn’t pay attention in class, and maybe you got a bunch of questions wrong. But that’s what she got for calling on you in class. Had you raised your hand? Had you given any indication whatsoever that you knew the answer? No. So really, this was on her.

And now you were stuck in the stupid greenhouse having to jot down sketches of each plant, their scientific name, and what symptoms they cause if ingested or inhaled. You had only finished maybe a third of the greenhouse and it was already midafternoon. You were never going to be done with this stupid detention.

You didn’t even like plants.

“You look miserable.”

“There’s more than one way to greet a person, you know,” you said without turning around.

Wednesday slid into your peripheral like a wisp of smoke; she always moved smoothly even though she appeared so rigid. Her coat hung off her small frame, and the snood Enid had made her only accentuated that by swallowing what little of her remained. She was reminiscent of the little kids at the park in winter; their parents had bundled them up in the warmest clothing they could find in the house.

“Just let me finish my detention, Addams,” you mumbled as you jotted down another sketch. It wasn’t half bad, actually.

For better or worse, Wednesday stayed silent as you moved around the greenhouse, assigned sketchbook in hand. There was no doubt you were getting 90% of the names wrong, and you were just writing “it’s bad :(“ under the list of symptoms at this point, but you didn’t care. This kind of detention was stupid. Besides, it was a Saturday; you should’ve been out getting coffee or harrassing everyone at Pilgrim World, not sitting in a humid greenhouse practicing your art skills. But no, now you were stuck here and- oh that plant is pretty.

“Don’t touch it,” Wednesday said rather quickly as you reached out to touch the flower.

“Why not?” You asked in indignation, finally turning around to see her. Oh, she’s cute.

“It’s a foxglove,” she answered.

“Wednesday,” you sighed, “if I knew what that meant, I wouldn’t be in here on a Saturday afternoon.”

“It’s toxic to birds.” She rolled her eyes at your incompetence.

“Oh, well thank- wait.” You narrowed your eyes at her and the smallest movement at the corner of her mouth. “I’m not a bird and you know it.”

“You can never be too sure,” she said without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re a prick,” you huffed out. You had to turn back to look at the plants again so she wouldn’t see your poor attempts at not laughing. “Why are you even here?”

“I brought you this.”

She brought me something? You thought. Well know she was just getting desperate if she was going to be bringing you things. You set your sketchpad down on the table, in front of the foxglove that Wednesday claimed to be toxic to birds. What had she brought you-

“-What is that?” You asked once your eyes landed on the small bag in her hands.

“Birdseed,” she said. “It’s a bribe.”

“That better not be for me or I will get offended,” you said, switching your weight to your other foot and crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re going birdwatching with me.” She rolled her eyes but held the bag out further for you to take from her.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You asked.

Wednesday Addams did not blush, that was a well known fact. Not a drop of colour would be found on her cheeks, ever. But that didn’t mean she was emotionless; you could tell when the stretch of skin over her cheeks and nose turned a little darker. It was the closest to an uncontrollable show of emotion as she was ever going to get.

And you were absolutely living for it.

“Are you coming or not?” Wednesday asked, completely ignoring your question for clarification.

You wanted her to admit it was a date. Wanted her to swallow her pride and say the word “date” because it’s just what you needed. There was no way in hell you were going to ask first, not when she had always been so clear about her thoughts on what a waste of time relationships were. “Look at my parents,” she had said one night, “limited because they can’t go anywhere alone.”

But you needed her to call it a date. Your hopes were embarrassingly high and you just needed her to say that four letter word. It could only be once and you would be happy. If she called it a date once and then never again until the day you died, you would be content. Just say the word, you thought to yourself as she finally turned her head back around to face you.

“Fine,” Wednesday sighed, “I’ll go on my own.” She turned around and started walking away.

“Wait!” You called after her. She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

You looked around frantically for the rest of your things. What if Miss Thornhill showed up and realised you were gone? And worse yet, what if she realised you sucked at detention? She was going to tell Principle Weems and then you would get another scolding. But pass up on a date with the Wednesday Addams?

Shit.

“You’re a bad influence, Wednesday Addams,” you huffed once you finally caught up to her and you both started walking out of the greenhouse.

You missed the small smile on her face.

—---

For all intents and purposes, Wednesday did not like you. If anyone dared to ask, you were nothing more than a thorn in her side, and not in a good way. No, you weren’t as energetic and colourful as Enid, but you still smiled too much. You cracked too many jokes and made yourself too accomadating. Any normal person would have been embarrassed.

No, Wednesday Addams did not like you.

She did not like the way you had talked the whole way to your preferred spot in the forest. “It’s a bit late for birdwatching,” you had said on the walk over, “but it’s overcast, so it might be fine.” She did not like the way you actually took your harness off and ruffled your feathers. Or the way they puffed up a little, “because it’s cold,” you explained with a shrug and a blush on your neck. Then there was the way you were sat still as a statue, birdseed scattered around, just waiting for some birds to stop by.

No, she didn’t like you.

There were absolutely no feelings in her void of a soul when a bird finally did appear, standing directly in front of your outstretched hand. The gentle smile on your face was completely moronic. You would make an excellent side character in her book; the same character that would get herself killed off in the first chapter. Wednesday could see it now; you would be too focused at the park and would get yourself put on a hit list simply because you were an easy target.

She wouldn’t be caught dead watching your feathers ruffle when more birds appeared, flocking around you. Or listening intently to what you were saying to them, holding full conversations as they hopped around and picked at the birdseed you continuously scattered. No, she would not join you on the ground, she was just fine sitting with her back to the tree. And no she didn’t want to feed the birds, this is an outing for you, she’s just the chaperone.

Her cold, black heart did not stutter when the light caught your skin just right and illuminated the nearly-healed scrapes and bruises from your incident last week. Wednesday had always loved the colours of a bruise. The angry red reminiscent of a wound, or the healing yellow-green that was nearly the same as the colour of a waterlogged corpse. Although they didn’t look quite as stunning on you. For one odd reason or another, seeing the bruises and cuts on your skin, or the apparent stiffness of your joints brought no joy to her.

There is no way in heaven or hell that she would admit she watched you the way her father watched her mother. Watching your every move, from the rise and fall of your chest to the twitch in each individual feather. The way the veins on your forearms stood out when you lifted a bird up or the eyelash that now resided on your cheek that she so desperately wished to wipe off for you. Or that your small, airy little laugh made her feel like an arrow had impaled her heart and mind and soul, painfully tethering her to the tree she was leaning against.

No, she was not her father.

And no, she did not like you.

—---

You looked like a little kid sitting in the chair on the other side of Larissa’s desk. With a bowed head and hands folded tightly in your lap, you reminded her of the young children in normal schools who got sent to the principle’s office for something they hadn’t done. Except you very well had done what you were accused of; maybe that was why you looked so guilty.

“Miss Thornhill told me you’ve been struggling in class,” Larissa started off. “You’re struggling to focus.”

“I’m just not any good at it,” you said with a shrug. You still weren’t looking up.

“She also told me you had been given detention last Saturday,” she continued; you sunk further into the chair. “And you were nowhere to be found when she went to check on you.”

“Wow, that’s wild,” you said with a huff. “She probably needs to check that her perscriptions are up to date,” you said, tapping your finger to the corner of your eye, “might need a better one.”

“Did you skip your detention?” Larissa asked, far softer than she would be with any other student.

“I didn’t “skip” detention,” you started. “I was there until around 3, I think that was punishment enough.”

“What came along that was more important than your detention?” Larissa continued to pry.

“A date,” you said so quietly that she almost couldn’t hear you.

“A date? With whom?” She asked with a small smile and in the gentlest voice she could offer you.

To most, it would be an inappropriate question. No one wanted their principle to know all the juicy details of their personal lives. But Larissa knew you both had a… slightly different relationship. She knew you struggled, you had been a student at Nevermore for nearly eight years; she knew what damage your personal life had inflicted upon you. For eight years she had been able to provide some sort of comfort, a surrogate parent of sorts, and she was doing her best to give you that space to be a normal teenager with a normal parent.

You had talked with her about these things before, it wasn’t like she was implying something out of nowhere. Larissa had been your shoulder to cry on through all of your family woes, your frustrations, your first heartbreak. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise for her to ask, even though you had initially been sent to see her because you had evaded your justly-deserved detention.

But instead of your usual excitement, Larissa noticed a glaze cover your eyes and your arms wrap tightly around yourself. She had seen you like this multiple times; you still refused to see a therapist about it. And as much as she wanted to go to you and comfort you, previous experience had told her you needed to feel it all before coming back to the present.

“Y/N?” She asked quietly, leaning over her desk to get closer to you without invading your space.

You blinked once, slowly, a single tear falling onto your quivering bottom lip. Your tongue darted out to lick your lip before your eyes opened. The haze took its time in fading from your usually sparkly eyes, but you looked up at Larissa as it diminished. One shuddering breath in, a shaky breath out, and your body fell into a relaxed state once again.

“Wednesday Addams,” you choked out around the sobs that you were shoving back down your throat. Your eyes flickered away from her at the admission.

“What did you both go do?” Larissa asked with a smile that you definitely saw this time.

There was a hesitancy on your face; your lips were parted slightly as if you were about to speak, and your eyes shone brightly, but the slight tilt of your head gave you away. You weren’t one to outwardly share your emotions, but your body langauge always gave you away. It brought a joy to Larissa that she had never understood was possible before you had come around.

“Well, she bought some birdseed-,” you started, immediately going off about the entire date.

Larissa leaned forward, completely enthralled with your tale. The way your hands gestured this way and that, the movements eloquent in their own right. Pianist’s fingers, she recalled. The inflection in your voice a mirror of your younger self, back when you had less worries. You’re excited, she thought with a soft sigh. You haven’t been excited in years.

“-and then Miss Thornhill saw me and sent me straight here,” you finished with a huff, clearly out of breath.

“Will you go on another one?” Larissa asked after you had caught your breath slightly.

“Well, I think it’s my turn to ask next,” you shrugged; there was a sparkle in your eye. “So yes.”

“Then you’d better go prepare.” Larissa sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “She set the bar pretty high, don’t you think?”

“Might find an autopsy she can watch,” you mused aloud as you pushed yourself off the chair. The stiffness of your injury had yet to ease, Larissa noticed as you essentially limped over to the doorway.

“Oh, Y/N,” she called out once you were halfway out the door.

“Yes ma’am?” You asked, leaning back into the office.

“You can make up your failed detention on Saturday,” she said with a smile that only got bigger as you groaned.

“This place is a fucking prison,” you grumbled as you walked away. Larissa sat back in her chair and looked over toward the fireplace. Maybe, she thought, Addams won’t be so bad afterall.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Steve arrived home to Robin anxiously pacing.

“Steve! Oh my God. I thought you died.”

“Robin, I literally talked to you an hour ago.”

“You could’ve died in the last hour!”

He smiled at her dramatics. She had his location the entire time, and she easily could have called him any time in the last hour if she was that worried.

She wrapped him in a hug, which was shocking enough on its own, but Steve couldn’t help his confusion when she also kissed the top of his head.

She held him for over a minute and Steve started to wonder if someone had died and she didn’t know how to tell him face to face.

“Robs?”

“Dingus?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Are you okay?”

Steve realized Eddie had probably told her everything. Oh for fuck sake.

“I am begging you to never bring anything of this up to me ever. Like, even if you think it’s okay to talk about it, assume it isn’t. I am never going to talk about this with you. Not ever. Not even on my deathbed. Not even when I’m drunk.”

“Eddie said you should.”

“I will. With Eddie. Not you.”

Steve turned to walk to his room and ignore Robin for the rest of the day, but he could hear her footsteps following him.

He sighed and turned around.

“I’m fine. Eddie took care of me. I’m going back there tonight so we can talk. I’ll keep my location on and you can check in with both of us, okay Mom?”

“Wait wait wait wait. You’re going back there tonight?” Then, she seemed to remember how he even ended up with Eddie. “WAIT! Your tattoo! Show me!”

Steve could do that much at least. He’d been talking about this tattoo for so long and he was really excited about how it turned out.

Eddie had unwrapped it and done the first round of cleaning and moisturizing, making sure Steve was paying attention so he could do it by himself today.

He hadn’t been able to look away from it for nearly ten minutes, the colors more beautiful after the redness of his irritated skin went away.

He held his wrist out to Robin, unable to keep the smile from his face as she looked at it and smiled up at him.

“He did great with this. Will is gonna flip.”

“I hope he likes it. He has an appointment with me tomorrow so I’ll be able to show him.”

Will was one of his best kids. He never had to actually worry about his future, Will knew exactly what he wanted, got good grades, had nearly perfect attendance, and worked towards his goals without any help from Steve. He’d been through a lot though as a child, and his mom had insisted that he regularly meet with Steve just to talk.

He came to appointments once a week, but him, along with his two best friends Dustin and Mike, would often spend their lunchtime in Steve’s office. They weren’t exactly popular, and bullies targeted them often for their size and their interest in more nerdy things. Steve let them, even though the principal had told him he was setting them up for failure in real life. Steve always said this was real life and feeling safe wasn’t a failure.

But this tattoo would really mean a lot to Will. He hoped so, at least.

“When are you going to Eddie’s?”

“7.”

“Bring protection.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin just gave him a look and walked away.

Nothing was gonna happen. Eddie said so.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When Steve got to Eddie’s place, he was already home, and…cooking?

“Something smells good.”

Steve made his way into the house, brushing past Eddie and looking around. He hadn’t spent much time noticing things earlier, but now he could.

There was a lot of art on the walls, but none of it looked like what was at the shop. This looked more abstract, with a few random watercolors sprinkled in. He noticed pictures frames along the shelves and bookcase that held more records than books. The coffee table looked cluttered, mostly books and sketches spread out along the top.

The couch was old, but looked comfy, and the armchair in the corner seemed mostly unused. A few hats hung from the corner it was placed in, none of them looking like anything Eddie would wear.

Did he have a roommate? Is that how he could afford a house?

“You can set your stuff in my room if you want. You remember where it is?”

Eddie’s voice being so close behind him startled him, but he immediately relaxed when he felt a hand on his hip.

“I remember.”

Eddie squeezed his hip once before letting him go, walking towards the kitchen instead of following Steve.

Steve took in the pictures hanging up in the hall, but didn’t get a close look at any, already rushing to get back to Eddie so they could talk. Robin had given him another look before he left that said there’d be more than talking happening tonight, but he really trusted Eddie when he said they’d be taking it easy.

He dropped his bag on Eddie’s bed, smiling to himself when he saw that the bed was made.

Eddie didn’t seem like the type of person to make his bed, so maybe he was trying to impress him?

Steve shook the thought away. Nothing is happening tonight. He may not even want you in his bed after you talk.

He made his way back out to the kitchen, where Eddie was closing the oven door and placing a casserole dish of something that smelled like heaven on the stove.

“What did you make?”

“Breakfast casserole.”

“Breakfast? For dinner?”

Eddie smirked. “No laws can hold me down.”

Steve resisted the smile he felt trying to creep onto his face.

Eddie really did a number on his whole “I don’t smile for anyone” exterior.

“What’s in it?”

“Well, normally I do a french toast one that has fruit and maple syrup, but you didn’t seem like the type to enjoy that.”

“Excuse me? That sounds amazing,” Steve crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Eddie.

“We can have that next time.”

Next time, next time, next time.

“This one is hashbrowns, cheese, eggs, and bacon with biscuits as the base.”

“That sounds…heavy.”

“We can eat heavy. We don’t have any physical activity to commit to later.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he started pouting.

A small part of him had hoped that maybe after they talked, something would happen. Not necessarily sex or even subspace, but some making out, maybe some handjobs? Yeah, he’d hoped.

But he recognized the boundaries Eddie was setting, and he respected him for sticking to them, even if he really wished he didn’t.

Eddie poked Steve’s bottom lip playfully.

“No need to pout. If our discussion goes well, maybe next time?”

“Promise?”

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”

“I dunno. Am I?”

“And a brat. Noted.”

Steve had never, not even at peak spoiled rich kid, been called a brat. Not even jokingly. He was a little offended, but he could see the hint of a smirk on Eddie’s face letting him know that would be part of their discussion.

“Are we gonna talk during dinner or after?”

“That’s up to you. I’m happy either way, sunshine.”

Steve felt warmth spreading in his chest at the nickname. He’d never been called sunshine either. Being terminally grumpy since your teenage years kind of eliminates that possibility.

“I have some questions so maybe we could start there during dinner?”

Eddie nodded and turned to grab plates and forks for dinner.

“Before you start though, I wanna make sure you know that I will always be honest and do my best to answer your questions, but there are some things I don’t know. I’m not a professional. I’m certainly experienced, but there may be things you want to know that I’ve never done. I don’t want to mislead you, so if there’s stuff you still need to know after this, I have contacts who can probably help.”

Steve felt so out of his depth here. Eddie had fucking contacts for this.

“Stevie? You okay?”

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself feel nervous about this. Eddie was kind and wanted him to understand and wouldn’t expect anything of him. He could do this.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry. Just feels a little overwhelming.”

Eddie paused mid-scoop and glanced at Steve. He set the serving spoon in the dish and walked the few steps over to Steve, wrapping his arms around him gently and hugging him to his chest.

Steve quickly found his spot, nuzzling against his collarbone like he belonged there.

“That’s why we’re taking this slow, having discussions first. You can’t go into all of it the way you did last night. It’s dangerous.” Eddie rubbed his back slowly and Steve fought back the noises trying to escape from his chest. “I won’t feel comfortable doing anything at all with you until we’re both comfortable, okay?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

Eddie pulled back and tilted his chin up to look at him.

“You have to use your words, sunshine.”

“Okay.”

“You understand what I said?”

“I understand.”

“Good boy.”

Steve couldn’t contain the whine he let out. Jesus Christ, what was happening to him? He’d never been like this. He’d never made that noise before in his life.

“Alright, sunshine. Let’s eat.”

Steve didn’t want to separate from him, but Eddie didn’t go too far. He made sure Steve was right next to him as he grabbed their plates and walked to the table, setting them down next to each other instead of at the chairs across from each other.

“Don’t want you too far,” Eddie said with a fond smile.

Steve hated the way his heart skipped a beat. Eddie was going to send him into cardiac arrest if he kept this up.

But he did his best to ignore it, take a deep breath, and sit down in the chair.

His anxiety was high, and he was worried he may not be able to even eat, but Eddie took a bite and looked at Steve expectantly.

Steve picked up his fork and took a bite.

“Damn, this is good.”

“Thanks, sunshine. It’s hard to fuck this one up, but I’m glad you like it.”

Steve smiled at him and took another bite.

Where to begin?

He knew Eddie would let him lead, acting as more of a guide for the conversation than anything else, but Steve suddenly didn’t know where to begin.

“Um. I guess I kinda wanna start by saying something?”

Eddie nodded, smiling softly at him and showing him that he could be patient with whatever Steve needed to say, even if it took him some time.

“I’m not, like, a virgin. I mean I know when it comes to this stuff I kind of am, but I’ve had a lot of sex. With women and men. I mean, I almost got engaged once. I’m not new to that.” He ignored the amused look on Eddie’s face and continued, though his voice wavered. “And I’ve seen some stuff in porn or whatever. I’m not completely oblivious to how this works.”

“I don’t think you should go off of what you’ve seen in porn.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, I just didn’t want you to think that’s accurate at all. Most vanilla porn isn’t even accurate, let alone any type of BDSM stuff. I don’t want you to think I have a dungeon or something with whips and chains attached to the walls. That isn’t what this is about for me or most anyone, really.”

Steve felt himself flush.

He’d said he wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never talked so openly about sex with anyone. He reminded himself that Eddie was still very much a stranger to him, and this kind of talk is something that close friends or significant others might have.

“What is it about? For you, I mean?”

There. That was a good start. Learning more about what Eddie did might help Steve understand what he was trying to accomplish.

“I mean, for everyone it’s about power and control or submission. But everyone has different ways of accomplishing those things and things they’re comfortable with.” He took another bite and chewed while he seemed to think of his answer. “For me, it’s about being in charge of someone’s release, whether it be sexual or not. Making someone feel good in a way they can’t experience on their own or with someone else. Having the power to know exactly what they need and give it to them or hold back. Find what makes that person tick and use it to make them feel better than ever.”

“That’s what you like? Seeing someone else get off?”

Eddie let out a small chuckle.

“I guess in a simplified way, sure. But that doesn’t always happen. You didn’t get off last night did you?”

“No, but I was dropping apparently.”

“Before that though. You still got to subspace, and you stayed there a while, even though you never got sexual gratification from it. You just felt good. Sometimes feeling good just means a plateau, not a peak and then fall, ya know? I like to help someone maintain that plateau as long as possible.” He took another bite and nudged Steve to do the same. “I love helping someone peak, too. But that isn’t always on the table.”

“What if I want it to be?”

“Getting ahead of yourself, sunshine. How about you have a couple more bites while I talk?”

Steve nodded and took another bite, watching Eddie as he formed his thoughts.

“Sex is obviously a part of this. I won’t say it doesn’t end that way most of the time. But there are parts of this that aren’t sexual at all that are still just as good. Your tattoo wasn’t sexual at all, right?” Steve shook his head. “Exactly. But you got there. Sometimes, it’s more just giving up the control. Some subs don’t even like the sex parts, you know. They like someone to give them rules and tasks to follow and punishments for when they don’t. I have a friend who is a sub who doesn’t even take off his clothes during his sessions. It’s different for everyone and it’s usually trial and error. That’s why safety and trust is such a big part of it.”

Steve felt like his head was spinning.

“Is that why people use safewords?”

“Yeah or the stop light system, or in some cases, just physical signs. That has to be agreed on before you ever go into a scene, even if it's someone you’ve done scenes with before and trust. You may love being spanked until you bruise on Saturday, but end up hating it on Monday if you’re not in the right headspace for it. It’s not just the sub trusting the dom with everything, it’s the dom trusting that the sub will use their safeword if they can’t keep going. Sometimes that’s hard for people to understand. It goes both ways. Both parties have control, just in different ways.”

“You know a lot about this.”

“I’ve been in a few serious relationships with the dynamic and all my friends have been part of the scene for years. What I don’t know firsthand, I’ve heard plenty about.”

“Okay, but what if I do want the sex stuff to be part of it?”

“If you do, then you have to be open about hard limits before you start. You have to have a safeword and use it if things start to go bad. You have to let yourself test the waters, but not jump into them if that makes sense.”

Steve nodded. It did make sense. He was probably jumping the gun a bit, but he felt like maybe he could trust Eddie to find and test his limits.

“So you wouldn’t wanna do that with me?”

“I didn’t say that, Stevie.” Eddie turned to him and placed his hands on his knees, massaging them lightly. “I’m not a jump right into anything kind of guy, even with just plain vanilla sex. But I’m really careful about starting with sex stuff right off the bat. Oh, stop pouting, sunshine. I’m not saying no.”

“But you’re saying no now.”

Steve knew he was still pouting, and maybe being a bit unreasonable. He normally took things slow too, at least when it came to more than random handjobs or blowjobs at the club. It still made him feel like Eddie might not be interested in him the way he was interested in Eddie.

“I’m saying not yet. There’s a difference. I’d love to be able to do that with you. But you need to experience more first.”

“Like what?”

Eddie studied his face for a moment. Steve felt like he could see right through him, which would have alarmed him more if he wasn’t certain that Eddie was going to be able to make him float again.

“You like to be praised.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve nodded. He’d figured that much out at least.

“That’s a good start. You can be praised for a lot of things. Sometimes just being told to sit still and being told you’re doing good can make a person float, you know.”

Steve didn’t think he could do that. He certainly believed some people could, but he figured it would take a lot more for him.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Do you want to try?”

“Now? I thought we weren’t doing anything tonight?”

Steve was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves again. Despite the fact that he’d wanted something to happen when he first got here, he was now wondering why the hell he thought that was a good idea.

“It doesn’t have to be now. But it would certainly be a good start when you’re ready. Simple, non-sexual, easy to safeword out of if you get uncomfortable, unlikely to drop from it. It’s just an idea. You can always say no.”

Steve didn’t want to say no. He was nervous, sure, but he wanted it. He wanted to try. He wanted to make Eddie proud.

“Could we try tonight?”

“If you finish your supper and we talk about a safeword, yes.”

Steve took three more bites and ignored Eddie’s laughter at his clear excitement.

“So, what can we use for a safeword?”

“Up to you, sunshine. Mine is Metallica.”

“Can I use yours?”

Eddie thought about it for a moment.

“For tonight, yes. But you should have your own in the future.”

“Don’t like sharing?”

Steve smirked at Eddie, who rolled his eyes but smiled fondly back at him.

“More like you may not want to keep doing scenes with me and having your own safeword is best.” He got up and brought their plates to the sink while Steve waited patiently in his chair. “You can go sit on the couch. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Steve sat on the couch with his hands folded in his lap, trying to push away any nerves he had over what they were about to do. If all went how he hoped, he’d maybe go to subspace again. Eddie sounded like he could get him there, but he didn’t know exactly what Eddie would have to do.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Eddie came into the room and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“Alright. We’re gonna relax for a few minutes first. You’re tense and you won’t be able to just go right into it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sunshine. Just let me hold you for a few minutes, okay?”

Steve wanted nothing more than to never leave Eddie’s side, his arm wrapped just tight enough around him so he felt like he couldn’t escape, his body warming him up just enough for comfort.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, and he didn’t really care, all he knew was the next time Eddie moved, he had to open his eyes.

“Alright, sunshine. Gonna move you a little so your head is in my lap, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie adjusted him so he was laying with his head in his lap and his legs out along the length of the couch. He had a hand in Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently, while his other hand was tracing circles on his arm.

“Mmmm. ‘S good,” Steve mumbled against Eddie’s thigh as he let his eyes slip closed again.

“Good.” He felt a gentle tug on his hair and his eyes shot open. Eddie was smirking down at him, but went back to gently scratching at his scalp. “Just testing. You remember the safeword?”

“Metallica.”

“Good boy. You use it the second you feel like you have to.”

Steve ignored the flutters in his stomach at being called a good boy again.

It went on like this for a little while, nothing new happening. Steve started to wonder if Eddie understood what the purpose of this was, when he suddenly felt Eddie stop all movement.

He whimpered, then felt Eddie’s hand tug at his hair harder.

“You have to stay quiet, sunshine. Keep being a good boy for me.”

His tone was different. Not quite stern, but not as soft as before either. Steve didn’t have to know him better to know that he should listen to him.

“I’m going to watch a show. You just sit right there for me and look pretty.”

Oh. Jesus Christ.

Steve was already hard. From that? Really Steve?

He managed to stay quiet this time, but he knew the second Eddie touched him again he would moan.

But Eddie didn’t touch him again.

He turned on the tv and casually looked for a channel. When he found one, he watched with his hands by his sides, not even resting against Steve’s skin.

Steve knew this must be part of it or they wouldn’t be doing it, but he felt himself growing frustrated at not getting any attention.

Minutes passed like that. Steve wondered when Eddie would acknowledge him again, but didn’t want to risk saying something.

Then a hand was in his hair, playing with the ends as if Eddie had never stopped.

Steve let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.

“Being so good for me, sunshine.”

Steve smiled to himself, keeping his eyes closed so he could relax fully against Eddie’s lap.

The noise from the tv turned distant, but the fingers in his hair felt like fire. Or maybe ice. Both? Could be both. They just felt nice.

Steve drifted, not realizing he was going until he was already gone.

Eddie knew the moment it happened’ Steve’s entire body relaxed entirely against him and the couch, and he let out a sigh that could’ve been held in for years with how loud it was. He didn’t open his eyes, but Eddie didn’t need to see them to know they’d be glazed over.

“So perfect, Stevie. Feeling good, huh?”

“Mmm.”

Eddie smiled down at him, even though he wouldn’t see it.

He wouldn’t let him stay down for long, just for the rest of the show.

Not that he was watching the show.

Not when he had Steve in his lap, floating away because of his gentle touches and words.

Chapter 5

TAG LIST: @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine @bejeweledbaby @bisexualdisastersworld @eddiemunsonswife @sadcanadianwinter @messrs-weasley @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch @maya-custodios-dionach

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #chapter 4 #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #dom/sub #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington

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ineffabildaddy · 6 months

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i know this may be obvious to a lot of people, but i thought it was worth saying anyway: i love the good omens fandom because it encourages contribution more than any other popular fandom i've been in.

i'm incapable of being a casual fan of anything. it's just not in my nature. i've been in fandom spaces just over a decade - fandoms related to musicians, books, films and tv shows - and yet i've never been in a fandom that captures, creates, analyses, jokes, and just talks more than this one.

in most of the fandoms i've been in, there's a lot of passive consumption of fan content, which is obviously great and we all do it, but in the good omens fandom, that doesn't seem to make up the majority of our behaviour. in fact, when i got back on tumblr for the first time in 7 years after watching season 2, i had a look around at what the fandom was doing for a day or two and my first thought was: oh god, what if i've got nothing to say? what if i've got nothing to add that hasn't already been added? i immediately felt that i wouldn't truly be part of things if i didn't get stuck in.

if i'm fixated on something or particularly enjoying it at one time, i might wake up in the morning or pick up my phone/laptop thinking, i want to see more, hear more, learn more about this thing. that's still the case with good omens, but with the addition of, how can i contribute today? how can i bring something to the fandom, how can i connect with it, how can i consistently encourage and support the people in it? and that's all because of how artistic, analytical, poetic, humorous but above all enthusiastic all of you are.

the truth is, i'm not at all a confident person. i've got a film degree, i've done stand-up comedy and i've written comedy sketches, i was a popular fanfiction writer for years (hi supernatural fans), and i've shared poetry, too. so, i have got experience in things that could make my contributions to fandom spaces worthwhile (not that you need any particular achievements under your belt). yet usually, the fact that people are doing things that i'm doing infinitely better than me puts me off the idea of doing them at all. so, oftentimes i don't do them, or if i do i put them down immediately and keep them private.

i'm still very much experiencing that feeling since becoming active in the good omens fandom, precisely because there's so much talent and dedication here, but i'm trying to ignore it because it feels like everyone who wants to say something is genuinely valued - especially since people who think differently about aspects of the book and show aren't actually fighting with each other or obsessed with proving they're right, which is quite rare in my experiences of fandoms.

it's been really really refreshing to become an active part of this fandom and i do hope it remains that way as more time elapses since season 2 was released. i have a feeling it will because we've all chosen one of the most wonderful stories of our time to engage with, and the fans' love for it was and is taken more seriously by terry, neil, david and michael than we ever could've hoped for.<3

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffabildaddy

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bosbas · 1 month

Text

Chapter 2: I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 2.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, negative self-talk (Colin bby🥺🤏), a small part of the dialogue is in French

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

April 16, 1816 – And of course, one cannot forget to mention Lady Y/N Montclair, who looked like a vision in her emerald dress at the Danbury Ball last night. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the gentlemen in attendance, and they were practically lining up to engage her in conversation. It was a sight to behold, watching them swoon over her. However, one can hardly blame them, given how effortlessly graceful she was. It appears Lady Montclair will have more than enough gentlemen to choose from this season…

Eloise scoffed and rolled her eyes, the newest Whistledown in hand as she sat on a couch in the tearoom. “My word, if she hadn’t been in Tuscany last season I would think Lady Montclair herself was Lady Whistledown! She’s only been here two days and she’s already been mentioned more than most of the ton.”

Benedict chuckled from his seat across the room, shooting a look at a disgruntled-looking Colin who was trying very hard to make it seem like he wasn’t listening to Eloise reading Whistledown’s account of the ball.

“I’d wager that Colin is Whistledown, actually. I’m convinced after today’s column,” Benedict said teasingly, taking a bite out of an apple as he analyzed the sketch in front of him.

“First of all, I don’t even write like Whistledown, which you would know if you read the letters I sent while I was in Greece,” Colin shot back, irritated. “And second, even if I were, I certainly would not have spent two full pages talking about Lady Montclair. I’m sure I have no idea why Whistledown thought she warranted such a large portion of the column today.”

The words felt bitter and unpleasant in his mouth, and he regretted them instantly. He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help his defensive tone after last night. Eloise, catching onto Colin’s tone, cocked her head toward Benedict and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“She didn’t want to dance with him,” explained Benedict, sounding highly amused about what was one of the more embarrassing things to happen to Colin.

Eloise burst out laughing. “No! A woman who didn’t want to dance with Colin? Something must be incredibly wrong in the world! How could she have said no to London’s golden boy? And on his first day back! Shall we call for a medic?”

Colin felt the blood rushing to his face and his cheeks warming, not particularly pleased to have to deal with his sister's teasing today. He knew he was being ridiculous, that much was clear. You were only one person who hadn’t wanted to dance with him. But you had just looked so beautiful, and the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed with your brother was so enchanting, that he fashioned himself half in love with you already.

It was slightly gut-wrenching to know you didn't feel the same way. He must have done something, Colin reasoned. No one had ever not liked Colin simply because of who he was, and he was more than a little concerned that you seemed to be the first.

Eloise had been joking, of course, when she called Colin London’s golden boy. But it wasn’t as much of a joke as he would have liked. Anthony was a viscount, and Benedict was a successful artist with a painting in the national gallery, but what did he have to offer? He was just aimlessly traveling the world, documenting his travels in a journal no one would ever read. His own family didn’t even read his letters, for Christ’s sake. He was a third son with no talents, and the only thing he could do was lean into his charm and good nature and hope that people liked him anyway. And he had been relatively successful thus far. Except for with you, it seemed.

Noting Colin’s uncharacteristic grim mood, Eloise briefly panicked, wondering if she had gone too far. With a far softer tone, she added, “Maybe her dance card was full, Colin. It doesn’t mean she didn’t want to dance.”

But Colin shook his head, placing his chin on his hand. “I highly doubt it.”

He knew better than to assume the best. He was remarkably skilled at reading people, but even without that, it had not been difficult to tell that you were full of contempt. For him or someone else, he couldn’t be completely sure, but the way you had been laughing and smiling with everyone except for him was a particularly useful hint.

Before he could dwell further, Violet entered the tearoom. “We’ll be going to Hyde Park to promenade today, darlings.” It was far easier to coerce her children into doing her bidding when she didn’t give them a choice.

Ignoring their grumbling, she left the room, calling out over her shoulder, “Be ready in one hour!”

---

Colin had barely been at the park five minutes before he spotted you, and he drew in a sharp breath. God, it was infuriating. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, chatting pleasantly with your mother, and he wanted to scream. Of course, you looked completely breathtaking. It was exactly what he needed when he was already nervous about approaching you.

During the carriage ride, he had decided to try to speak to you again. To be your friend, at the very least. Perhaps you did not want him as a suitor, but the thought of someone in the ton actively disliking him was nauseating.

So, he steeled himself, staring longingly at you. Now was as good a time as any because, for some miraculous reason, there seemed to be no men hounding you at the moment. You had separated yourself from your family slightly, silently observing who he could only assume was one of your older sisters and her husband.

He made his way over to you, hands fidgeting behind his back nervously. Swallowing down his fear, he cleared his throat as he approached you, a soft smile on his face.

“Lady Montclair, it’s lovely to see you here today. I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot at the ball last night, and I wanted to offer an apology.” Your face was completely blank, not giving anything away, and Colin found himself a tad more nervous than he was when he first walked up to you. “Perhaps we could promenade?” he finished weakly.

An apology? What on earth was Colin Bridgerton on about? There was no way he’d seen you in the hallway, right?

“An apology, Mr. Bridgerton? Whatever for?” you asked carefully, not giving anything away.

Colin cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn’t quite sure himself, to be honest. “Well, I’m afraid I might have offended you by asking to dance so suddenly. It might have been a bit brash to ask for a dance without a proper introduction first.”

You almost sagged in relief. Your reputation was safe. Though now you seemed irrationally angry, despising Colin for no apparent reason. However, it wasn’t in your nature to make nice with someone who viewed women simply as breeding stock.

Curtly, you responded, “I can assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, that that did not offend me. Had we been properly introduced, my answer would have been the same.”

“Oh,” he said softly.

You stared at him blankly, with no hint of warmth in your gaze. Sensing your hostility, he promptly turned away from you, returning to his family. Anger burned in his chest. What the hell was your problem with him? He’d barely spoken two words to you, and you had acted like he had offended your entire bloodline.

When his anger subsided, Colin had a sobering thought. For the first time in his charmed life, someone simply did not care for him. And the worst part? He hadn’t even caused it. Colin, who prided himself on his charm and wit, found himself in the position of being disliked without cause.

He suddenly felt very inadequate. It was a foreign feeling, and it settled quite uncomfortably in his chest. If you were determined to hate him, so be it. But to hate him without reason? That, Colin could not agree to.

If you insisted on casting him as the villain in your narrative, then he would play the role with ease. If you wanted a reason to dislike him, then a reason you would have.

You stared after Colin, eyes narrowed. His ability to act like a complete gentleman would have been impressive if it wasn’t so disturbing.

“Ma grande,” your mother called, coming to your side (My dear). “Did I just see you being rude to Colin Bridgerton? He left fairly quickly,” she scolded gently.

“Non, maman. Ne t'inquiète pas,” you assured (No, Mom. Don’t worry). Upon seeing her unimpressed look, you switched to English. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“Well, you don’t seem to like him very much,” she observed.

You let out a nervous laugh, waving her comment away. “I don’t know him well enough to dislike him, maman!”

You needed something to distract her from this line of questioning. Your mother knew you well enough to tell when you were lying, and she would be positively furious if she uncovered the real reason why you despised Mr. Bridgerton.

Fortunately, a distraction arrived by the name of Lord Arthur Barlow.

“Lord Barlow,” your mother called out excitedly. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing my daughter, Y/N Montclair.”

“Lady Montclair,” he smiled warmly, stretching his hand out to you. “A name as lovely as its bearer, I daresay.”

“Lord Barlow,” you answered shyly, placing your hand in his. You felt your cheeks heating up as he kissed the back of your hand, and you were taken aback. This entirely charming man had disarmed you completely in a matter of seconds.

"Lord Barlow, the Duke of Monmouth," your mother announced with a flourish, her eyes bright with approval at the budding acquaintance. "Shall we take a turn about the park? I would be delighted to chaperone."

Subtlety was not her specialty. Or perhaps not her priority. Though you couldn’t really be upset with her, given how good-looking the Duke was. He nodded graciously at your mother and placed your hand at the crook of his elbow, smiling down at you as you began to stroll.

You were so enthralled you barely registered him speaking. “I hear you’ve got a knack for languages, Lady Montclair,” he remarked, prompting your attention.

“Yes, your Grace. I speak five languages, and read Sanskrit,” you answered dutifully. Such accomplishments were no small feat in the circles of the ton, and you knew it put you at an advantage in the marriage mart.

“Most impressive, indeed,” he answered, his gaze thoughtful. “My brother’s wife is from Prussia, and I’m sure she would love a chance to speak in her native tongue.”

The Duke's boldness caught you off guard, the suggestion of speaking with his sister-in-law a surprising turn. "Oh," you murmured, slightly taken aback by his directness.

“And what else do you like to do?” asked Lord Barlow, smoothly transitioning the conversation.

A well-prepared response rolled off your tongue, a practiced smile gracing your lips. “I am well-versed in needlepoint, and enjoy playing the pianoforte,” you smiled. It was what was expected of a young woman of your stature, after all.

Lord Barlow nodded appreciatively, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “And how do you find England? I’m certain you’re missing the Tuscan sun,” he said, pushing the conversation to lighter topics.

The Duke's engaging manner, paired with the approval of your mother, had utterly charmed you. Engaged by his charisma and easy conversation, you found yourself giggling during your conversation, utterly captivated.

Unbeknownst to you, Colin Bridgerton observed

from afar, his gaze sharp with a mixture of irritation and something deeper brewing beneath the surface. Each laugh, each shared glance between you and the Duke, stoked the flames of his simmering displeasure.

—

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munson-blurbs · 7 months

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IT'S SPOOOPY HALLOWEENIE!

Dum-Dum.* Kit Kat. Eddie.

*"I don't know what that is" - in an Australian accent.

Idiots in love/Artist!Reader/Eddie Munson

Warnings: drug use (weed), reader can be read as gender neutral, mention of Billy Hargrove, sitting on Eddie's lap

WC: 778

Divider credit to @saradika (also, Dum-Dums are a brand of lollipop)

Knock knock.

The sound of someone at the door startles you, drawing your attention from your unfinished sketch and to the curly-haired boy clutching a piece of paper in his ringed hand.

“Sorry, uh,” Eddie says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t mean to scare you.” When you don’t reply, he looks around the otherwise-empty classroom. “Is now a bad time, or…?”

You gather your thoughts, heart pounding a mile a minute at the sudden interruption. “N-No, you’re fine,” you stammer. God, he’s so cute. Cheeks tinged red with bashfulness, free hand shoved into his back pocket, frizzy curls brushing against his denim-clad shoulders. “Something I can help you with?” you ask when he remains standing in place.

“Oh! Um, yeah.” He shuffles over to you, as though reminding himself to put one foot in front of the other. “You draw, right? Like, sketches and stuff?” He winces at his stilted attempt at an opening, especially given the fact that your sketchbook is open right in front of you.

“Mhm.”

“Cool.” Eddie nods. “Could I ask you to draw this? It’s for my uncle’s birthday next month.” He hands you the photo, and your heart instantly melts. It’s a picture of him and who you assume is his uncle, and Eddie can’t be much older than ten years old. He’s wearing a blue shirt with an S in a diamond hastily drawn on the front. A faded red towel is tied around his neck in a makeshift cape. The older man stands behind him, half a KitKat bar hanging from his lips like a cigarette. “It was my first Halloween with him.” The first time I ever celebrated Halloween, actually, he thinks, but keeps that information to himself.

You carefully study the photo, careful not to leave fingerprints on it, even though there’s already a smudge in the corner. “I, uh, I don’t know what those stains are,” Eddie mumbles. “I can’t offer a lot of money, but if you smoke…” he mimics taking a pull from a joint, “I can hook you up for free.”

“You sure?” You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t want you getting in trouble or anything.”

Eddie dismisses the notion with a wave. “What’s he gonna do, call the cops?”

“Fair enough,” you agree with a smile.

You hadn’t realized that when Eddie had offered to smoke you up for free, he’d meant smoking with him. Over the next few weeks, any free time that wasn’t spent drawing the photo of him and his uncle–whose name was Wayne, you’d learned–you spent with him in a haze of marijuana. Sharing giggles, splitting family bags of potato chips when the munchies inevitably hit, snuggling up on his couch and sleepily watching sitcom reruns consumed your afternoons. To an outsider’s perspective, it looked like you two were together. Truthfully, you had no idea what you and Eddie’s status was.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you sit up suddenly, shifting under the blanket and reaching for your backpack. “I finished this last night.”

Eddie’s bloodshot eyes go wide, and you swear that their glassiness is fueled by more than just pot. “This is…wow,” he breathes out, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is even better than I imagined.” He doesn’t know the technical terms for what you’ve done, but you’ve perfectly captured their enthused expressions, the joy in their eyes evident even just through pencil shading. “You’re amazing.”

And maybe it’s the compliment, or the high, or the way he’s been nestled into you for the last forty minutes, but you tilt his head towards yours and kiss him. Your mouths collide clumsily, and he seems shocked at first, but he quickly eases himself into it to deepen it. One hand cups your cheek while the other pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling his lithe waist.

“Wanted to do this for a long time,” he murmurs into you, not wanting to fully break the kiss. “Ever since I first saw you, I thought you were so goddamn pretty.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since you jumped on the cafeteria table and called Billy Hargrove out for leading all those poor girls on,” you admit with a laugh. “He turned bright red.”

Eddie inhales, shrugging his shoulders haphazardly. “Earned myself a pretty little black eye for that.” His nose nudges yours as he leans in to kiss you again. “But it was totally worth it if it meant you noticed me.”

You pull back slightly, taking in his beautiful brown eyes, the tiny patch of stubble where he’d missed shaving, the flyaway hairs on his temple. “Can I keep noticing you?”

“I’d be sad if you stopped.”

#trope or treat #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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cactikiki · 3 months

Note

Name your headcsnons about our boi Kieran (Apologies if you have done this already)

I HAVE SO MANY. this is probably a fraction of my headcanons honestly but I don't remember them all lmao. HERE WE GO!

Kieran

• he has anxiety, the tism™️ and BPD (twinning 🤝)

• stims include tapping his foot, rocking his hand to the side of him, bouncing his leg (or foot) when sat down. He also has vocal stims, which usually come from tunes or phrases he hears; wowzers is one of them!

• playing with his hair is a big stim. He ruffles it, pulls at it, twirls it, strokes it, runs his hands through it, etc. He likes how his hair feels and that's why so many of his stims involve it :]

• he often mutters to himself, whispering his inner thought processes

• his parents left years ago. He has no idea where they went, only knows that they didn't care about their kids. When he was young he was told they'd died, to 'protect' him. You'd think Carmine and the grandparents would've learned from that incident during teal mask, huh? (This is also the case for villain!Kieran, but normal Kieran would likely avoid ever meeting his parents)

• he is terrible at video games. Still, he likes playing them on occasion; definitely more of a 'cosy game' enjoyer with a biiiiit of threat. He'd play Minecraft, Stardew Valley and Terraria for example

• he's short right now– shortest of the friend group– but he'll eventually be pretty tall when he's 17. Shorter than Nemona and Arven at that age, but still tall enough that it shocks people at first

• chocolate wafer bars are his comfort food!

• his grandma taught him how to cook, while his grandpa taught him how to make tea and to knit.

• despite the above, he's not very good at cooking... he burns things. A lot.

• during his emoism™️ he would kick things, punch things, slam things etc and every time, he'd act cool about it until he was out of the room. Then he lets out a little owie or a hiss of pain </3

• started cursing more the moment his hair was tied up. He was convinced it made him sound more mature. Even after everything's said and done and he's doing better mentally + friends with Florian and co again, he can't quite shake the habit and curses every so often in conversation

• resting bitch face + talks in a 'moody' quiet voice a lot, leading people to think he's annoyed when he's actually feeling neutral or even happy

• if cat person vs dog person exists in the Pokémon universe, Kieran’s a cat person. I guess this means he likes Pokémon that are more like cats, whether they actually are cats or not

• he likes flowers a lot. That's it that's the headcanon. I think he'd like sketching them and studying them, maybe his original pokémon team and the open fields of Kitakami made him interested? And, funnily enough, his crush's name means blossoming, flourishing flower....

• he still stays up late and sometimes doesn't sleep at all, but this is much rarer now. Normally it's because he has a good(-ish) reason not to sleep– at least, that's what he says.

• applin was his first Pokémon!

• when he traded Florian an applin, Florian traded back a shiny applin. He actually started this search right after he left Kitakami, and found it a week before heading to Blueberry; he was prepared and wanted a good way to apologise. Of course, he didn't expect what'd happened with Kieran.

• Florian has a shiny furret. It was on his team when he fought Kieran and won; after Kieran boxed his own for being too weak. Ouch.... (based on the fact I had furret as one of my last pokemon when his ace went down </3) this is technically a Florian hc but!! It made Kieran rethink a little, later on. It was also extremely devastating at the time

• Kieran naturally gets really good at battling. He could 100% be part of the elite four or even the champion when he's older, even with him slowing down and doing battles just for fun

• Kieran doesn't always enjoy physical touch, but he's also pretty touch starved. He likes hugs and anything gentle, and usually only from people he knows well

Feel free to ask for more headcanons about him or candyapple etc in future, I love doing these posts!

#asks #arianimates #Kieran #rival kieran #trainer kieran #pokemon #pokemon kieran #pokemon scarlet and violet #headcanons #pokemon florian #trainer florian #candyappleshipping #(hinted #florkie #kieflo

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aettuddae · 6 months

Text

hole in one — chapter 23.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

"hey." muttered haru after seeing karina.

the girl was panting, making it obvious that she had run to that place. the new girl understood right away, she had already realized it she arrived later than she was supposed to.

"sorry i'm late." she added, interrupting the tension building between the two.

"hey." returned the other's greeting, sketching a shy smile.

up until that moment karina had felt confident, calm, but it all dissipated as soon as the golfer stood in front of her.

she had crossed paths with haru a few times, although she could count them with her fingers. after all, they go to the same university, and there are events that all the students attend. besides that, kwon sometimes showed up at the building where jimin studied to visit her friend giselle. but they never interacted before, let alone with the subplot of an entire plan organized to seduce her. somehow, the athlete's idea and the plan seemed so far away and fictional that she didn't feel a great weight because of them.

until kwon haru became a reality, until she was there personified in front of her, and karina felt the pressure of having to think carefully every interaction they had.

"are you..." she gave a deep sigh before continuing the sentence. "...the girl my girlfriend has been fighting with?" a short, chaste laugh escaped her as she finished, perhaps because of nerves or the ridiculousness she was asking.

"i think that's an accurate description of me." jimin nodded her head, pressing her lips against each other as a gesture of embarrassment. "although it's not so much a fight, it's more just her..."

"yeah, i know." she lowered her gaze, and walked a bit until she found a place where to leave her equipment. "sorry about that, by the way." she picked up a club and turned to karina again. "it's just that she thinks what happened at the party was on purpose, which doesn't justify her reaction, sure, but it's all only because she felt attacked. i swear she's not mean, just..." she stopped her walk next to the girl, taking a breath of air and looking towards the field, thinking what to say next. "hi, i'm haru, it's a pleasure." she looked at her and extended her hand waiting for a shake, not finishing the previous topic.

"yes, i know you're haru. it's a pleasure too." she reciprocated the greeting, finding funny the abrupt change of subject.

"your name is karina, am i correct?" the golfer furrowed her eyebrows as a gesture of curiosity.

"that's me." confirmed, pointing her index finger at herself. "but my name is jimin, actually." she explained.

"okay, jimin-ssi." she gave a smile without showing her teeth, but that was still genuine enough to make her eyes narrow.

it was the first time karina had talked to kwon haru, and although she had the image that the girl's personality wasn't at all like her girlfriend's, in those minutes she had confirmed it. she was kind. something well hidden among her priorities and bad intentions, told the newcomer that this girl didn't deserve to have any harm done to her, but at the same time, she also was relieved at the thought that maybe it wouldn't be such a challenge to flirt with haru.

this is against kazuha, anyway.

"minhyuk spoke to me yesterday, told me he helped some friends get into the club, and that they lied on their applications about knowing how to play golf." the fresh member lowered her head in embarrassment, to which the experienced laughed. "he told me i had to do him the favor of helping him train them, am i right?"

"you are, ma'am." karina brought her hand to her forehead, jokingly giving a military salute, then flashed a cheeky, flirtatious expression to her new acquaintance.

she was there to make her fall in love, after all.

haru looked away restlessly, and swayed from one foot to the other as she scanned the surroundings with her eyes as if there was anything besides grass and holes in the ground.

"everyone lies on applications anyway, don't they?" joked karina as she saw her teacher start to move to fetch some golf balls and arrange everything.

"not in rottary, no." she denied as she was bent over setting up a tee.

"oh." she expressed flustered.

"but it's okay, jimin-ssi." she straightened up and addressed her. "someone had to be the first to do it." tried to reassure her.

karina and haru sat down on the tee box, and the sportswoman took some time to explain the rules of the game, the most common terms and what each item used in the sport was called and what it was for, and also to answer any questions the new girl may have.

the latter listened attentively to every part so as not to detract from practice later. and even though she still found it rather boring, she got a strange thrill from the idea of being good at golf.

"so why did you join the club if you've never played golf before?" questioned the teacher once she finished explaining the system of play.

karina thought carefully about her answer, she couldn't say anything stupid. during the previous days she had been researching things about golf, so she looked through that information to answer the question.

"isn't it easier to play golf when you are a member of a club? you have somewhere to train, an easy way to participate in tournaments, direct access to teachers and coaches." she repeated everything she remembered from that specific google search she had done, 'why is it good to join a golf club?'

"yes, you're right."

"i don't get out of my house much." the girl confessed. "i wanted to do a sport and have a more active life." vile lie. "and everyone at ncu does golf, so it caught my attention." more lies.

"it's a great sport, you won't regret it." assured the one who had been at it for years. "is that why you followed me?"

"what?"

"on instagram."

jimin opened her mouth and expanded her eyes in surprise at the question. she had forgotten she did that, maybe she had voluntarily wiped it from her brain. her cheeks turned red right away.

"of course..." she spoke nervously. "i mean, you're the best at golf, right?" she reached out her arm and gently tapped her closed fist on the girl's arm.

and again, haru began to look around avoiding eye contact, while her cheeks also took on a reddish color.

"okay, now," the trainer stood up and extended her hand to the other girl to help her up. "let's see how bad your swing is."

they approached the tee that the athlete had set up earlier and now she put a ball on top. she looked through her student's unused clubs, picked one up and then passed it to her. she took it with one hand, to which haru moved close enough to her to position it correctly between her hands.

"you're going to put your dominant hand where the grip and the shaft connect." she pointed to the area she was referring to. "you're way up." warned laughing at the inexperienced girl's cluelessness.

haru took karina's hand, gently moving it to the correct position. the apprentice looked up from the object to the face of her teacher, who, at the proximity, this time could not avoid the connection of glances. the blackhaired drew a warm smile on her lips and moved her pupils from the girl's eyes to her lips.

she still hadn't forgotten about the plan.

at this interaction, haru took a breath and turned around on her feet abruptly as she rambled anxiously about the proper way to hold a golf club. when she turned back to face jimin, who was quite stunned at the suddenness with which that moment was cut off, her gaze drifted back and she frowned.

"don't turn around." she warned seriously.

the girl quickly grimaced cheerfully and began waving towards whatever was behind her.

"it's kazuha." she explained through her teeth while she followed her partner with her gaze, who was traveling in a golf cart through the club. "if you turn around we're both going to die." she dramatized without stopping waving.

(!)

— taglist [OPEN]: @runawaymazola

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ribbonetteart · 3 months

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Tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time + the franchise that has me in a death grip 💖

a bit late for Christmas but at least Valentine's day is around the corner ^^;;

Process below if that interests you:

AS I SAID EARLIER, I had been working on this piece as early as December of 2021 😱!!!

This was the original sketch! I was inspired after learning about Blaze's own design inspiration coming from Takarazuka theater, as well as it being the Nutcracker season so this film was in bouncing around in my head.

and this was allllll the way back in 2021 ^^; I had put the idea to paper to capture the image in my head immediately. But the idea in my head was extravagant and beautiful and would certainly take time to complete, as well as the patience and skill to work with watercolor 😔 I've certainly done my share of watercolor, both physical and digital, but I still feel like my physical watercolor work is a fluke, and I was still a novice digital artist at the time of this sketch.

In short, I was confident my skill could live up to the vision.

So I would put this on the back burner. It wouldn't be ready in time for Christmas, and I could use this as an opportunity to hone that digital art experience so it could be ready next year!

2 Years Later...

It's December 5th. Fuck it. Let's crack this open again, I tell myself.

SO starting with the line art, it's actually 2 different brushes layered over one another.

I also changed Sonic's expression to be more love struck-looking, because I'm a sucker for romance.

The image on the left is a watercolor line brush, while the right is a pencil brush. The reason I wanted a water color look was because I thought it would make the illustration look dreamy and fantastical, and I wanted that to extend to the line art as well. However, my usual lines on traditional usually veer more towards thick and cartoony from years of studying the Sonic art style, so I really felt like I was working against myself here. I had also asked friends for their input and they preferred the lines on the right as well. If my followers actually do read these blog posts, I'd love if you could comment which line art style you prefer drawing or looking at.

The happy medium was to just combine the 2. Here's a better look at that:

I like it! I think it combines the solid line with the rustic water color grain. Best of both worlds :]

For the actual painting, The most notable thing I can say is that getting the right pastel-y color was VERY difficult to achieve for someone like me who often loves to use bright and saturated colors in her art. I feel like I really set myself up to do one of those "evil art style" or "opposite art style" challenges I've been seeing around. I had to repaint Sonic at one paint because the blue of his fur was WAY too saturated for the style I was going for:

I started with painting Sonic and Blaze in first and then working on the background. I think that's probably the backwards way of doing it but one of the perks of digital art is you can do stuff any order you want when you have layers.

The background wasn't actually as difficult as I thought it would be. I wasn't going for any difficult perspective, and I was using a reference so that could be it. I'm usually averse to backgrounds but I really wanna tackle more of my weak points in art. I actually had way more fun than I was expecting, painting the sky and adding texture to the grass. I think I had the most fun rendering the water coming from the fountain (which you can't even see too well anyway, lol).

Funny enough, I had just about finished painting the characters and background by early January. So why am I posting this in February?

The Flowers...

In case you don't know. I love flowers. I love looking at them, I love learning about flower languages, I love drawing them. so seeing that my reference image showed flowers circling the fountain, I was excited! I was already having more fun than I expected to be, working against my usual style, rendering a background, so how could this be a pain in the ass?

Well, I am my own worst enemy 😞I couldn't exactly identify each flower offhand from this screenshot alone. The texture of the flowers is kinda grainy, since I don't think the animators were expecting viewers to look too closely at the set piece to use as reference for my lovingly crafted crossover fanart. If anyone has this in high quality though, please tell me.

(I think I actually got this reference from a tumblr post but I can't find it on my blog for the life of me nor can I find it in the tags I'm so sorry)

I'm a huge stickler for details so I really wanted to be as "accurate" as possible in my illustration. I can hardly identify some of these flowers with confidence. I think there are roses in there? or tulips? I'm not sure if those yellow flowers are roses or some kinda petunia or if I'm way off.

I'm sure these details won't matter to most viewers but it was EATING AWAY AT ME. Eventually I decided to try drawing in flowers that might look similar to the ones in the reference. Or some based on their flower languages. I was certainly overthinking it ;;;; It led me to going "fuck it" and just throwing in whatever I wanted. There are no irises visible in that screenshot but I made it the centerpiece of the flower ring. Who give a shit.

I made some guides for me to follow: The blue ring was so I could make sure the flowers make a half circular border around Sonic and Blaze. I was envisioning how it could look as like an icon or sticker or something, which is why it's framed this way. then the second guide is the sketch of the flowers I made. I always do line art and I'm not great at just improvising with color to paper, or color to screen in this case.

The rest of this process is then just working on each flower piece by piece (with the help of the mirror tool of course) with varying degrees of detail. Some flowers are more abstract than others, and I had debated if that would look jarring and disrupted any kind of harmony I was trying to maintain with the style parameters I set for myself. And then I decided I was overthinking it once again which is why this was taking me nearly 2 months to complete.

At some point during this process, my wifi went out for a whole week! Of course, I could still work on this illustration offline, but I had a lot of tabs open with a bunch of reference images on there (plus I like to listen to music while I draw otherwise I lose focus and I had neglected to download a varied selection on my phone or laptop 😭 Learn from my mistakes).

The most tedious of this process was making each set of gladioluses a unique color.

Was it worth it? You tell me! I think they're pretty, at least.

Along the way, I repainted the grass because it wasn't symmetrical (It didn't need to be but I had been using the mirror tool for a lot at this point and it was bugging me). I made other little final adjustments, like color adjusting the leaves on the flowers, lowering the flower ring border, and so on.

Ultimately, I'm extremely satisfied with the final product. I had my heart set on doing something like this for a long time. I had so much fun just experimenting throwing on color or not worrying about technical stuff. Of course, I did do what I usually do and overthink it at some points, but I'm working on it!

I've wanted to do an extremely indulgent AU illustration and other drawings for a Sonic x The Nutcracker story for a long while. I will be totally honest, I'm still a little embarrassed to share stuff like this, even after years of posting fan art online. It feels like the more self indulgent something is, the more people might judge me for it ^^; But I wanna practice what I preach and kill the thing inside me that cringes at my harmless attempts at joy and whimsy.

I would love to do some more drawings for this AU, but maybe post them around December when it would be more seasonally appropriate. I hope you'll stick around for it!

If you read this whole thing to the end, thank you. Whether you follow my blog or not, I hope you have a lovely day :3💝

#Barbie in the Nutcracker #Sonic the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #Sonaze #Jess's Digital Odyssey #Sorry for not posting frequently it may happen again

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ghostofthedarkhold · 7 months

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symbiotic daydream

pairing: venom!kate bishop x fem!reader

she/her pronouns are used, and mentions of the reader wearing a dress.

word count: 3.4k (3428)

warnings: dark kate, venom forcing kate to think dark thoughts, obsession, stalking, kinda dub-con kissing but not really, no actual smut, groping, suggestive content/language.

a/n: I was going to include smut but this fic really got away from me so if yous like it then I’ll probably do a pt.2 at some point with smut :)

so yeah, surprise, i am doing kinktober this year. however i done absolutely horrible at completing my masterlist last year so this time around im just going to post monster fucking fics as i please with no official masterlist. enjoy!

Symbiotes in the modern world are few and far between, but it’s no secret that some people have the parasitic creatures leeching on their brain, a passenger in their mind. Most people avoid the people that are bonded to the inky creatures that cause cities to run red with blood and pleasure, others hunt them out after an initial encounter with them, obsessed with the ecstasy they had only been given a crumb of. Rumours of the symbiotes' destruction are nothing new to Kate, something her mother had warned her of for her whole life, their wants corrupting the minds of those they inhibit, but she’d never come across one herself, and while part of her was always curious to see them other than on the news, she was mostly thankful for it. That was, until one latched onto her.

Venom made himself known almost immediately after latching onto the young college student, plaguing her mind with thoughts of sadism, of having girls under her, begging her for mercy that she would never grant. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Venom began trying to persuade her with other things. Pleasure. Overwhelming amounts of pleasure brought upon her victims, making them beg and scream for her. These thoughts were much more difficult for the young archer to shake off. A young, hormonal, and, quite frankly, already insatiable Kate Bishop with never-ending thoughts of sex? She was done for long before she ever accepted, or even realised, it. But she was capable of holding back. Until she saw you.

She first saw you walking out of the movie theatre with some friends. You were tugging down your dress that had ridden up your thighs from sitting in the theatre chair for the past few hours, and Venom was practically screaming at her, trying to force her limbs forward, to stride over to you and pull your dress up your hips instead of allowing you to move it further down. She was able to stop herself, just barely. But without even knowing it, from that moment forward, you had Kate Bishop in your trap.

She was sly, following behind wherever you went without you even knowing it. Stalking behind you in the street, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the help of Venom’s neverending slick webs of ink, watching you from across the street while you danced and drank in bars, went from store to store on your weekly shopping trip, snuggled in comfortably for the night in the assumed safety of your own bed. You had completely, wholly taken over Kate’s life without ever having met her. Every time she sat down to study she couldn’t do anything but scribble down your name and draw sketches of you from memory in her, admittedly amature and flawed, art style, every time she drew her bow she couldn’t help but picture her arrow sinking into the flesh and piercing the heart of whoever she saw you with last, a crush, a friend, even a stranger you may had just been giving directions to, they were all the same to Kate, undeserving of even being in the same vicinity as you. When she finally cracked and leaned into her new role as your very own, personal stalker and did some idle snooping online, finding out that you were enrolled at the same college as her, everything became much, much worse. Finding out which classes you took, Kate mangled and stretched her schedule out as much as she was able to until she finally managed to land herself a spot in three out of five of your classes, which was honestly more than the brunette had hoped for when she sent out her email, requesting, practically begging for, her new classes.

Kate sat a few rows directly behind you in the partially empty lecture halls, at first content to watch the back of your head and the way you furiously scribbled down notes in attempt to keet up with your various professors ramblings, but eventually that no longer satisfied her need to be near you, she needed to know you. So, with her heart thudding out of chest like that time she tried to ask her crush in middle school to the winter dance, and Venom’s crazed and incessant cheering clattering around in her brain, instead of taking her usual seat, she stopped a few rows ahead than she normally would in Professor Maximoff’s class and slid in the seat beside you, nearly sending your normal seat partner tumbling to the floor. But when your eyes found hers and you gave her that sweet smile she had watched you give others, for months pleading with the universe for it to be directed at her, followed by a shy greeting, Kate no longer worried about the boy she had practically rugby-tackled to the ground. Honestly, the entire world could have imploded at that very second, and as long as you were in a protective bubble and gave her that same smile again, Kate would die happier than she ever had been, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Venom back any longer.

She let him take the lead in her obsession, looking into every part of your life that the internet had to offer. She found where you grew up, details of your family, your favourite books and movies, anything she could squeeze out. Kate was sure that the universe wanted you to be hers when she got the notification that you had accepted her request to your private instagram, the one away from the prying eyes of your parents. Abandoning any shred of reason or dignity she had left, Kate got about an hour of sleep that night due to her endless scrolling of your instagram and any photos you were tagged in, Venom getting particularly rowdy when she came by a picture of you in a bikini on one of your friends accounts.

Kate’s plan to have you was set in motion the very next day, innocently asking you questions about yourself, ignoring the lecture and Professor Romanoff’s harsh warning glares. She learned a lot more about you than the internet ever could have given her, and you in turn learned some facts about Kate. You talked about your famile lives, Kate telling you that she was an only child who was raised by her mother, about hobbies, music, anything and everything Kate could absorb about you, and she cursed how the time flew by when Professor Romanoff informed the class that the lecture was over. Kate begrudgingly packed up her things, trying to take in as much of you as possible, as if she wouldn’t see you the very next morning. She slowly stood up when she noticed you had finished cramming your things into your backpack, and stood up to leave, but her footsteps came to an abrupt stop when you spat out a hurried invite to go to a bar with you and your friends that night. Kate spun around slowly, sure that she couldn’t have possibly heard you right, and she watched for a moment as you chewed on your lower lip, fighting over if you had made the right decision. But before you could retract the invitation in a hurried apology about how you hardly knew each other, ignoring the fact that you were ceratin you had told Kate every note-worthy thing about yourself in the last hour, Kate agreed. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets to prevent her from pumping her first in victory as you quickly scribbled down the address and time on a discarded piece of paper from a random students desk. Kate quickly made a grab for it as soon as your pencil had left the page, looking at it as if it were the Holy Grail, and to Kate, it was. She promised you that she would be there, the brunette already imagining seeing you that night, away from the stuffiness of the lecure halls, before sending you one last longing look and leaving you standing alone by your desk, watching her leave.

What Kate was unaware of was that you had your eye on her for weeks. Not nearly to the degree that Kate wanted you, but the second that you heard Professor Maximoff call out her name, you were looking her up on the schools website on your phone under the desk, intrigued by the new face showing up halfway through the semester. Your eyes nearly buldged out of their sockets when one of the first things you saw, aside from her grinning student ID picture, was Kate with a bow in her hands, looking as it was the most natural thing for the weapon to be there, with muscles straining against her long, fitted sleeves as she drew back her arrow, the headline under it detailing that she had brought another archery trophy home to the college. After that, your deep dive down the rabbit hole that was Kate Bishop was long and thorough, scouring through every mention in the schools website and news article - after ashemedly staring at her arms and hands on every picture for a good five minutes before eventually managing to tear yourself away. After weeks of pining after the star athlete, clinging to her every word when she answered a question or commented on the syllabus, or really anything she said, you could hardly believe your luck when she sat down next to you, your tunnel vision focused on the object of your latest fantasies not allowing you to feel worry for the boy that she elbowed away.

Kate was ecstatic that night as she pushed her way through the door of the bar, nervously tugging on the tie hung loosely around her neck. Venom had been berating her all night over her nerves, Kate rolling her eyes like a petulant child every time. He was right, of course. The deck was completely stacked in Kate’s favour, knowing every detail about you to make you putty in her hands, Still, she couldn’t help the anxiety nagging away at the back of her mind, as if she was about to go on a first date, worrying about impressions and the way she was dressed.

Kate could swear that all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room the second she saw you. You were dressed to the nine’s, especially for the dingy bar that you so regularly frequented, and there was a small bloom of hope within Kate that you had dressed up just for her. You certainly had never put so much effort in any other night you went out, and as far as Kate could see, she was the only change to your night.

Newfound confidence overtook Kate as she strode over to where you and your friends were clustered at the bar, unable to fight off her smirk as you immediately pulled your arm away from where it was slung around one of your friends shoulders, pulling the taller woman into a tight hug.

“You came!” You cheered, overjoyed at Kate’s arrival before pulling away from her, much to Kate’s disappointment, with a blush staining your cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden outburst of affection towards the girl you had only first talked to that afternoon, and Venom was quick to fill Kate’s thoughts of all the other things she could do to bring that redness to your face in other ways.

“Told you I would,” she smiled down at you instead.

It’s a miracle that Kate heard you ask her if she wanted a drink over the 80’s rock music playing from a corner somewhere, the conversations of different patrons that had all blended into one another, and the depraved thoughts clouding her mind. She stuttered out her usual drink order and you skipped off to find a bartender to make it for her, leaving Kate alone with your friends. She knew who they all were, of course, having fantised about watching the light leave most of their eyes after getting too close to you for Kate’s liking. Some looked at her with curiosity, while others with disdain, and Kate wondered why exactly it was that you invited her there.

“We could kill them all before anyone in here could even blink.”

Internally hissing at Venom to shut up, Kate turned her attention back to you. She spun around, completely ignoring the question one of your friends had finally voiced to her. She watched as you leaned over the bar, giggling at something the server had said to you, completely oblivious to the way the angle allowed Kate’s stare to hungrily devour the inches of cleavage that there exposed, angling herself to see down your dress as far as she could. Venom was screaming at her, screeching that now was the time to make their move. And for once, she listened to him.

You weren’t even aware of Kate’s determined gaze set on you, or the heavy foot falls of her boots against the wooden floor, until her hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, dragging you away from whatever conversation that apparently was so hilarious the bartender was clutching his side. Kate promised Venom that they would see his blood before the night was over.

You made a sound of protest as you looked up to see that it was Kate who was dragging you across the bar, making a beeline for the exit. “Wh- Kate, what are you doing?” You questioned, tugging on your arm to try and free it from her bruising grip.

“I need to talk to you,” Kate all but growled out, dragging you through the door to the bar and into the cold New York night air, your short romper doing nothing to protect you from the bitter frost of the oncoming winter.

It was difficult enough having to watch you drape yourself over your friends from afar, watching through windows or scrolling through social media, sure that at least three of them wanted you, or at the very least wanted to fuck you, but watching it mere feet away from her was harder than Kate had predicted, Venom bringing out her baser instincts until all she wanted to do was press you against the nearest surface and claim you as hers and the symbiote’s marking you in front of everyone, anyone who had ever just layed eyes on you. She needed all of New York to know who you belonged to. But, despite Venom egging her on, even trying to take front seat and force her body into the movements, Kate couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, she settled for the next best thing, dragging you into the alley that was cracked between the bar and the next building.

Your questions didn’t cease until your back collided with the hard stone wall of the alley, Kate’s hard body caging you in, and she wasted no time crashing her mouth to yours.

It took a second for you to react, for your mind to process the sudden changes, but as soon as you did you were pressing yourself against Kate as much as you were able to, your hands coming up to her hair and tangling in her raven locks.

The kiss was a fight for dominance that Kate quickly won, slamming your arched back against the wall again, using your surprised and slightly pained yelp to allow her tongue to invade your mouth. You let her taste you, let her consume all of you, and it was the first time within your presence that Kate let her dams break and venom to slip through. She felt the slickness of his ‘flesh’ run down her arm, coating it, looking as if she had dipped it in a vat of tar. Kate’s hair moulded itself in your hands, although you were too preoccupied to notice, the already black locks flowing freely around her. It was only when you both pulled apart, the need for air separating you, that your eyes met hers and you saw that Kate’s were taken over by white.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kate whispered to you, drawing circles where her hand had landed on you hip in an attempt to soothe you, feeling that Venom was breaking free and that you could clearly see that, but her voice was warped. The words were all Kate, Venom’s eagerly encouraging her to continue with the previous activities, but the voice that said them was broken and deeper, and it wasn’t the one you had swooned over a mere ten minutes ago.

“Kate, let go of me,” your voice was smaller, the cheerfulness replaced by fear. You had no idea what was wrong with Kate, but you had no intention of sticking around to find out.

“No,” the voice was harsher now, more deformed, as Kate and Venom both fought for the chance to speak, Kate’s biceps straining as she pushed you up against the wall more firmly, holding your hips in an unbreakable clamp. Any softness that was there before was gone in an instant. You watched as Kate allowed Venom to take the reigns and she ground up against you.

Closing in on you, her body caging you in and leaving nowhere for you to run, Kate moved one of her hands from your hip, up your body, until she got to the neckline of your romper, yanking it down and revealing the lace of your bra.

Kate pawed at your breasts over your bra, and even with her pupils and iris’ gone you could feel her eyes drinking you in.

“So fucking pretty,” you didn’t like the relief that coursed through you when it was purely Kate’s voice that reached your ears. Despite your desperation to run out of the alley and never see her again, her own voice much less terrifying that the distorted sound of Kate and Venom melding together

“All those people looking at you. Shit, baby, wanted to watch my arrows crack into their skull,” Kate’s tone was soft and tender, as if the words were meant to comfort and woo you, but they sent a shock of fear down your spine, the thought of Kate killing someone over you paralysing your every muscle, and Kate accentuated her point with roughly pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts, and you winced at the wire of your bra digging into the soft skin of your sides. “So, so pretty,” Kate repeated, her gaze devouring you whole. “And all mine.”

“Ours,” Venom immediately hissed in her ear, his screeching grating against her brain. “You would have never had her like this if it wasn’t for me.”

Kate just rolled her eyes, ignoring the symbiote, which most definitely didn’t rub him the right way, and you were sure the next words, in a different voice than the last two, came from someone other than Kate entirely.

“I could kill the archer and have you to all to myself.”

That voice was quickly crammed far in the back of Kate’s head, and any movement from her stopped entirely, her hands simply resting on your tits, her entire weight focused on smushing you against the wall behind you as a look of anger twisted its way onto Kate’s face. She was having a war inside her head that you were not privy to.

Minutes passed, and you began to wonder if Kate was going to keep you like this all night, pressed against the wall of an alleyway, breasts on display for any passerby who took a few steps into the shadows, with Kate towering silently above you.

You finally found it in yourself to try and wriggle out of Kate’s grasp, and this is what seemed to wake her from her stupor, her focus snapping back to you.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” you fought back a cry of relief when Kate’s voice replaced the monstrous one that seemed to have dragged her into her subconscious. You weren’t exactly sure who he was, but you decided that you would much rather have Kate at the forefront than him. “He won’t take me away from you, not ever. No one’s gonna ever separate us again.”

Kate wasn’t sure when it was that she decided to keep you by her side from now on. As soon as she walked into the bar? When she saw you laughing with the bartender? When she felt your lips against hers for the first time? She really didn’t know, but she had decided, and, unbeknownst to you, a future without Kate by your side no longer existed.

#c: kate bishop #dark fic #dark kate bishop #my writing #mcu #kate bishop x reader #venom #dark venom #c: venom #s: venomkate #vemom x reader #sort of #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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aqua-the-smiter · 1 month

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✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ ℑ𝔯𝔬𝔫 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 Ferrus Manus x female oc (Argena Seeva) Other parts in the reblogs Ferrus, in a bid to one up his pain-in-the-ass brother Fulgrim, takes up drawing. Gets some reference help from his long suffering friend and senechal, Argena. Part of my AU I have cleverly called the Primarch Wife AU. Happy endings, the boys get the help they need, Big E is a good dad and, most importantly, everybody gets a wife. Because big husband and small wife makes brain go brr

Sexual content/NSFW after the cut - Very lewd-but-not-lewd touching, Ferrus jacking off to his future wife while trying to get work done, idiots in love. @thevoidscreams @pringles-plaguehaus ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊ “Gena?” Ferrus asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “I have a…strange favor to ask of you.” Argena put down the loop of silver she’d been polishing and turned around on her stool to face him as she heard him out. Throne, he even looked uncomfortable, and she wondered what exactly he needed that he was looking so hot under the collar. Ferrus Manus was many things, but wavering was not one of them. Actually he was kind of cute like that. She mentally slapped herself almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. HE. IS. YOUR. BOSS. She’d been with him for over a year and half at this point. It felt like it should have been longer. Falling into the role of his senechal had been so easy after a while. Especially after they’d started spending more time simply enjoying each other’s company. He was a surprisingly layered man once he opened up enough to show it. And, she heavily suspected, a lonely one too. So they’d gotten close more easily than she would have first thought. It even showed in the way he addressed her. Gena, a more tender nickname than her given. “Does it have anything to do with your ongoing attempts to one up your brother?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It does, yes. Look, I can’t help it. Fulgrim has been driving me mad recently, so I want to pay him back in kind.” “I know, I know. And if you pull it off you’ll make him absolutely seethe.” “It” in question was Ferrus putting a serious effort into learning how to draw. He could already, but it was an entirely different kind. Technical drawings, machine blueprints, weapon schematics. Nothing really artistic, although it could be counted as a form of art in its own right if you asked her. Watching him work was hypnotic, the movement of the pencil or stylus in his metal hands impossibly graceful. Elegant even. But most people didn’t see it that way. Resident artsy fuck, Fulgrim, certainly didn’t. Constantly making little jabs and jokes at his best friend’s inability to produce anything else than purely practical drawings. Finally, Ferrus had enough and announced to her in private that he was going to produce a piece of actual art better than anything Fulgrim could do (and he wasn’t as good as everyone thought he was, including himself) out of pure brotherly spite. The early results were rough, but promising. Argena herself had quite a bit of skill, picked up from her goldsmithing hobby, and he’d come to her with practice sketches, rudimentary shapes and simple three dimensional objects. It took him a while, but he was definitely getting it. His talent for technical drawings was beginning to shine through with the clean linework. In short, it seemed he might actually do it. “That is the goal.” He said, just a little smug. “So what do you need me for, pray tell my lord?” She prompted. The Primarch seemed to steel himself for a moment. “Well…I feel I’m ready to move on to…organic materials now. I can only draw my own tools so much before I cease to learn any more from the exercise. I was going to ask if I could study you. Your anatomy, I mean.” And it already sounded like that would involve less clothes than she started with that day. “...Study my anatomy? How so? Moreover, why?”

“Feel up your body. Your muscles, skeletal structure, general build. How everything connects and moves together. I find that I learn best when I am up to the elbows in it so to speak, so being able to touch it would be the best thing. You are the only person I feel comfortable coming to with this. It is, ultimately, quite a petty thing I’m after. You have been very understanding of me. More than I thought would be possible.” Ferrus paused for a moment, wondering if what he had to say next was even a good idea before deciding he’d take that chance. “Also, you are objectively a very beautiful woman. Whatever someone’s personal tastes may be, nobody could look at you and deny it. And subjectively, I think you are a beautiful woman. For those reasons you’d make the best subject for what I’m trying to accomplish. If the goal of art is to create something pleasing to the eye, something that captures the beauty of the world and the enthusiasm of the creator in a still image, you would be a perfect basis. Not like the mess of colors and lines Fulgrim throws on his canvases.” He spoke so frankly. Ferrus was always a very no-nonsense type of person, but to have that direct, blunt nature used in such a glowing description of her was something else entirely. Because you knew for a fact when he said something, he meant it. It made her feel very warm inside. “And this is purely for research, right?” She asked tentatively. “Purely objective.” He swore. “And I won’t go any farther than you want or touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched. I’ll fill in any gaps in my knowledge with an anatomy book. Just tell me where to stop, and I will.” Somehow a Primarch who’d grown up in the wilderness eating sand had a better concept of boundaries than many people. “Well...I trust you, so I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She said after a moment, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m willing. Let’s do it.” He gave her one of his rare smiles (that seemed to be becoming less rare nowadays come to think of it), genuinely grateful. It made her feel more at ease with the agreement. Who knows, it might even be fun. ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #warhammer 40k x oc #primarch x oc #primarch x female oc #mating press march #ferrus manus #ferrus manus x oc #ferrus manus x female oc

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