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uhhhitsgray · 8 months

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fic where astarion puts lipstick on u? ☺️ I feel like that could be super intimate

aksjdhfakdhf, anon please 😭 this is so cute, yes yes I write c:

~ wc: 2k, no warnings, this is just fluffy and cute. tav and astarion are already in a relationship. attempted to make this as gender neutral as possible, but I did throw in a few pretties (since astarion does say that in the game), a few darlings and he calls you gorgeous. astarion would call you all those things regardless of gender so I hope you're okay with that ❤ enjoy & and thank you for the prompt, this was a lot of fun!

You sigh as you look down at the metal tube in your hands defeated with the fact that you don’t think, or even know, how to properly apply lipstick. Up until arriving at Baldur’s Gate you never had the need to dress nicely. Of course your clothing choice was much more than just clothing, it was armor meant for protecting and not so much for looking good.

You had found this small shop on the outskirts of the city one evening. It didn’t cost a lot of gold, and you wanted to treat yourself. Though maybe you should have gone with something you were more familiar with instead, but you wanted to feel attractive; pretty even.

It was a peaceful evening at camp, the day hadn’t been taxing on the group luckily, just a few pesky thieves but nothing else major happened. Your tent was further away from the center of camp where the others were, you enjoyed the solitude that it provided giving your mind and body an opportunity to just breathe and relax. By the gods, you’d take that chance any time it arose.

You had snuck away from the group while everyone was laughing and talking over the wine from the city. You so desperately wanted to try out this lipstick, but after several attempts and every pass looking worse than the previous your shoulders slumped in defeat, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. You could also ask someone in camp, maybe Shadowheart or Isobel would know. You remember them both stating they’ve worn makeup before, shit, Isobel currently wears makeup.

But admittedly you didn’t have that type of relationship with them. Of course you were fond of them, friends even, but close enough to ask for something like this? You weren’t sure you were that comfortable with them. Truth be told, you were only close with one person like that in your camp, the pale elf himself, Astarion. An odd person to ask possibly, has he ever worn makeup before – or lipstick even? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t sure if you even cared.

He’d help you right?

You shove the tube into your pocket, and head towards the campfire where you left him with the group. The light of the fire danced across his skin, washing warm hues across his pale skin. His rather white hair was highlighted in reds and oranges, his red irises reflecting the vermillion shades of the flames. He was laughing at something Gale was sputtering on about, a genuine smile on his face.

Truly beautiful.

You step into the light of the fire, one arm crossed across your chest holding yourself close. Caging yourself off as if you’re too afraid to ask such a simple question from the man you adore. “Astarion.”

Astarion’s attention is ripped away from Gale at the drop of his name, his name sounding like honey on your lips. He’d never get used to it. Warmth blossoms within his chest at the sight of you on the other side of the fire, “Yes, darling.” He smiles towards you, scooting himself over on the log he was sitting on, patting the wood for you to sit next to him.

You smile at him, and make your way around the side of the fire, offering a small wave to the few people who were still at the campfire. You cross behind Astarion’s back, hand dragging across his shoulders. You lean down behind him, fingers dancing up the back of his neck into his hair. “Can I ask something of you, my love?”

He leans back into your hand slightly still facing the fire as he answers. “Anything.”

You kiss his cheek, it’s short and quick as your words mumble and stumble out of your mouth. “Can I ask you away from everyone else?”

His body stiffens slightly, “Is everything okay?” Astarion turns towards you, his tone shifts in his question. Worry, and something similar to dread fills his eyes as he looks into yours. “Did… did I do something?”

You offer him a soft smile, “Everything is fine.” You cup his cheek in the palm of your hand, thumb brushing across his fire warmed skin. “You didn’t do anything.”

He swallows down the worry and dread as he leans into your palm. Astarion nods up at you, “Okay, darling. Where do you want to go?”

You look past the fire in the direction of your tent, “Is my tent okay?”

Astarion nods, standing up next to you. “Lead the way.”

The fact that you wanted to ask Astarion to put lipstick on you was plaguing your mind. You were sure you were making this a bigger deal than it really was, it wasn’t that big of a deal to begin with. But by the gods, your mind was telling you that it was the absolutely worst thing that you could ask of this man.

You slowly lead him back to your tent, your hand in his. The warmth of the fire still lingering on his skin, the cool evening breeze bringing a yin and yang sensation. “Now, darling, I’m dying to know what you wanted to ask.”

You were second guessing yourself as you pulled the front of your tent open and allowed him and yourself to walk in. You take a deep breath, “I… I — uh.” You shake your head and take a few steps further into your tent.

Astarion squeezes your hand, “You can ask me anything, you know that.”

You sigh, letting go of his hand as you drag your fingers through your hair. “I know.” You look at him, the crimson irises carefully watching you. You start pacing the length of your tent. It’s not big by any means, just enough room for your bed roll, a small table and stool. But you were gonna pace it as much as you could, as much as the space would allow; trying as best as you could to allow your mind some room to think of the question at hand.

“Darling.”

You were biting your nails as you heard Astarion call for you. Your eyes search his, uncertainty lays heavy on your expression. “You can’t laugh at me, okay?”

Astarion chuckles at that. You sweet, precious thing of his, he could never. “I wouldn’t dare laugh at you like that.”

You nod, looking at the floor again. “So I uh – I bought something in the city the other day and I need help putting it on.”

He raises an eyebrow to you, crossing his arms at his chest. “And what did you buy?”

You stuff your hand into your pocket and pull out the metal tube, palm side up showing Astarion. Your eyes burn holes into your palm, embarrassment flushes your cheeks red. How stupid is this.

You hear Astarion stepping forward, into your space. “Lipstick?”

Your eyes dare to look at him, too scared to see the expression he has on his face. “Yeah, I don’t know how to properly apply it. I was trying earlier, but it kept looking all wrong and bad and Astarion, I just wanted to look pretty.” Your words come out of your mouth a little too quick, not giving your brain enough time to process before speaking.

Astarion cups your cheek this time, a playful tone to his soft voice. “Oh darling,” He leans in and kisses your forehead. “You are always beautiful.”

Your arms cross, pouting. “But I wanted to feel pretty.” Your eyes darted up to him for a second before they found the floor, “Wanted to be pretty for you.”

“There isn’t a day where I don’t think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He grabs the metal tube from your hand. “But I can put this on for you, if you so wish.”

You smile at him, “Please.”

He nods towards your stool, silently asking you to sit down. Your feet take you to the stool and you sit yourself down as Astarion opens the lid, a smile spreads on his face as he sees the color you purchased. It’s nothing flashy, a more mutual tone. Probably to not draw too much attention to yourself if he was to guess. “This color will look so pretty on those lips of yours.”

“You think so?”

Astarion steps in between your legs. One hand holds your chin, urging your head upwards so he can see you better. The other hand holds the lipstick carefully, twisted up just enough to be easily applied to your lips. “I know so.”

Your hands land on the outside of his thighs, just holding his pants as you carefully watch him. His eyes flit to yours and linger for a second longer. “Don’t look at me like that, darling.”

You smile at him, teasing, “Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me.” Crimson eyes drift down to your lips.

“I always want to kiss you. Always want your lips on me, want them everywhere –.”

Astarion squeezes your chin, “Behave yourself, sweetheart.”

You giggle, smiling at him sweetly. “I always behave for you.”

He cocks an eyebrow to you, a smile plays across his face, fangs exposed slightly in the light of your tent. “I would have to disagree.” His hand moves in slowly, carefully, as he presses the lipstick to your lips. Your eyes are locked onto his, though he isn’t looking at you anymore, you can’t help but just watch him in concentration. Trying his best, giving his best to you.

He smiles as he pulls the lipstick away from your lips. “Gorgeous. This color suits you, darling.” He grabs your small mirror off the table next to you, flipping the mirror around for yourself to see.

Your eyes widen at how well it’s applied, like he’s done it a million times. You move the mirror around better to see his work. Astarion was right, the color does suit your skin tone just perfectly. “Thank you Astarion. I – wow. Just how are you so skilled?”

“Oh,” His eyes fall to the floor, you see his body freeze beyond your mirror as dread fills the pit of your stomach.

Shit.

You put the mirror face down on the table, standing quickly as horror washes over your face. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

Astarion shakes his head, and continues anyway. “I used to wear it to lure victims back to Cazador.” His voice is low, hurt as the words are hushed out.

“I… I didn’t know that, I’m sorry for asking this of you.”

“I didn’t expect you to, I’ve never told you that.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You didn’t have to.” Your nail digs into the palm of your hand, you feel horrible for asking such a thing. If you knew you would have never asked.

Astarion’s hand reaches out for yours, fingers intertwined with yours. “I’d do anything for you, my love. It was in the past, the future will be better. Even the now is better.”

You smile at him, "And I'd do anything for you. One day at a time, my love." You giggle, pressing up on your tiptoes as you kiss his cheek. You grin at the mark the lipstick left on his cheek. He laughs knowing you've left a mark on his cheek. "I love you, thank you Astarion." You kiss his lips soft and delicate, sure to be careful not to mess up his work.

"I love you too, gorgeous. Shall we show our friends?" He takes your hand as the other opens your tent up, awaiting for you to follow him.

You smile, “What about the mark on your cheek, you want to wipe it off before we go?”

Astarion laughs as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you close. “I’d wear any mark from you proudly, I’ll leave it.” His hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It’s warm, soft and caring; you’ll never get used to it. Or him for that matter.

Your thumb brushes across his cheek, as you pull away from the kiss. You smile as his lips are slightly tinted the shade of your lipstick. “Alright, let’s go then.”

#astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #this dumb pointy eared vampire has me in a chokehold #this prompt was so fucking cute i screamed when i saw it #thank you for asking for this #i appreciate you sm

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

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My Moonlight

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

This is a part 2 to My Sunshine. You'll need to read that one first for context. Tumblr link - AO3 link

I play with the headcanon that white is not Astarion's natural hair color. The general consensus was dark, possibly black hair, and brown or hazel eyes. Check out the post I got this hc from here!

I don't know if there'll be another part to this. School is kicking my ass rn

Beta read by @big-armed-mar Thank you again <333

Warnings: graphic descriptions of drinking blood from rats, grief over past friendship, anxiety and nausea mentions, descriptions of blood, drinking blood, hurt/comfort, some fluff

Word Count: 1,596

Masterlist

AO3

Astarion was cagey around you. He played nice, of course. Polite smiles, and violent tendencies disguised as friendly advice. Maybe, with his facade of sweetness, he thought you wouldn’t notice the way he stayed toward the back of the group, or set up his tent just a little further from the fire.

Part of you wishes for the simple way things were, before all this. Side by side in front of a fire, drinking wine and sketching him while he reads to you, with the sorrow of parting for the day sweetened by a kiss on your foreheads. It was so simple, then. So easy and carefree. You were young! You had the whole world ahead of you! And then…

And then he died. And so too did those times.

Maybe they came back with him, came a stray thought. It hurt to dismiss it. Those times would not be coming back soon, if they ever did.

You’re too scared to ask to draw him. The fear of being rejected outweighs the possible rewards. So at night, when everyone has settled and everything is quiet, you sit away from everyone else, you pull out your journal, and you sketch. Seeing him again has refreshed the image in your mind. It is much easier now to put a face to the sketches. You’re never happy with them - his eyes are off somehow; his mouth doesn’t hold the right expression - but you refuse to stop your tradition now.

There are little differences, you’ve noticed, from the old drawings to the newer ones. Aside from the obvious of your style and confidence improving throughout the years, there were details then that didn’t exist now.

His hair before was shaded dark, with simple highlights indicating where the light was coming from. Now, his hair was mostly white space, lightly shaded to give it volume. It had been so long - was his hair darker back then? It was hard to picture him with anything darker than his now bright-white curls, and yet…

His eyes were also different. They were still dark, but in a different way. You’ve picked up numerous ways to give off the impression of specific colors over the years - blue and green were intricate displays of mid to light tones, hazel mixed dark and medium tones, brown were deep with little-to-no variation in shading. The old sketches had his eyes closer to brown than your current ones, that mixed deep shading with lighter tones to portray their deep crimson.

Had you really forgotten so quickly what he looked like…? Your best friend?

After his death, you’d taken up sleeping. It had provided an escape, however temporary. Now, though, you didn’t want the Astarion in your dreams to hold you and comfort you - you wanted the real one to. It hurt to see one so warm and welcoming and the other so distant and reserved.

Tonight was no different. Anxiety swelled in your chest. Nausea poked at your stomach. You’re on edge, like a deer that knows it’s being stalked. Dreams and reality faded in and out, taking their turns. In one, Astarion walked beside you, playfully bumping into your shoulder as you made your way through Baldur’s Gate. In the other, Astarion leaned over you, teeth bared.

When he sees your eyes open, half-lidded, tired eyes staring up at him in a daze, he immediately backs away, caught red handed. He stands with hands outstretched to show he was unarmed and harmless. Well, mostly harmless. He’s shocked when all you do is sit up on your bedroll.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear!”

You raise an eyebrow.

He stammers as he tries to explain himself. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed - well, blood.”

The firelight is dim, but the moon lights him up clearly. You see him, now. Pointed canines and two scarred punctures on his neck, with hollow cheeks and too-pale skin. “You’re… a vampire.” He bristles when you say it. “That’s how you’re alive.”

He barks out a mirthless, bitter laugh. “Undead, my dear,” he corrects. “But… yes.” He doesn’t let you get a word in before he launches into his next defense. “I was only going to have a nibble, I swear! I feed on animals, usually. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. But it’s not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so… weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” He pauses for a moment, a pleading look on his face. “Please.” And you can’t tell if it’s genuine or not.

The tadpole behind your eyes wriggles. The sensation makes you shiver. You can feel hints of his mind touching yours. The hunger, the weakness. But it feels half-there. The worm says you can look deeper, know the truth behind it all. You want to ignore it, but your grief begs you to know.

You push into his mind, past the picked-out truths, to find the whole one. He’s startled by it, by you, but you can’t let this slip past your fingers. When his mind opens, you’re flooded with a barrage of memories and emotions. Fear, desperation, starvation, hatred - all surrounding a pair of dark eyes. They command him to feed, to drink from the rat squirming in his hands. You feel the gag at the back of your throat as his mouth becomes full of watery, rancid blood and fur. You can feel the rat still in his hands, drained to every last drop. It is all he will be given to eat. When you finally pull from his mind, Astarion’s face is full of disgust and hardship.

You swallow hard around the phantom feeling of wriggling in your mouth, urging it to leave. You can only imagine what it must have been like for him. It makes your heart ache.

“You ate animals because you were forced to,” you whisper. He can’t meet your eyes. “Not because you wanted to.”

“I-” He stopped. His voice became small. “Yes. Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked. So you can see why I’m slow to trust you.” Maybe he sees the flicker of pain in your eyes. Maybe he corrects himself for his own benefit. You can’t tell. His protective facade is back in place once more. “But I do trust you. And you can trust me.”

“I do. I trust you.”

“Thank you.” He shifts around, hesitant to ask his next question. “Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste, I swear.”

You nodded. “Of course, Astarion. You only needed to ask.”

His eyes widened. “Really? I - of course. I’ll avoid the slinking around next time,” he chuckles. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

You lay back once more. The stars are quickly hidden behind Astarion as he leans over you once more. His hands on either side of your head keep him over you. Like this, you feel small. A rabbit in the clutches of a wolf. But this is what you wanted after so long; to be close to him again.

His face softens. For a brief moment, it’s the face of the Astarion you once knew. Your heart rate spikes as he leans down, not toward your neck, but toward your forehead. A brush of a kiss, barely there at all. As he speaks, you can feel his lips moving along your skin and cold breaths of air.

“Thank you…” He sighs, finding the strength to say what was on his mind. You close your eyes, willing this moment to be implanted in your memories forever. “My dear moonlight.”

His lips brush against your neck. He can hear your heart racing, feel it just beneath your skin. Had you ever been this close before? Surely, you’d indulged in hugs and cuddling with him…right? His memory was so foggy. Trying to go back to those days hurt. But having this experience, right here, right now. He wishes he could lose himself in it.

And then there’s the frightening realization that you’re his first.

Before he can linger too long on how vulnerable that made him feel, he lined his teeth up, and bit down. You gasped in his ear. Blood rushed from the wound into his mouth. It was sweet. Sweeter than any rat or roach. And full-bodied like an exquisite wine. He wanted to drown in it - in you. Remain latched at your throat for another century, indulging and bloating himself on the saccharine ichor.

“Sunshine.”

It’s barely a whisper, but the softness of it pulls him from his feeding. He detaches his mouth from your neck and watches a few stray drops as they slide to the ground. Your face is relaxed; eyes closed and skin bathed in moonlight. Your hand detangles from his hair, and he wonders how long it had been there.

“Did I take too much?”

You shake your head and open your eyes, at last. They’re dulled and out of focus, lids fighting to close once more, but you look right at him. And you smile. “I’m okay.”

Tension leaves his shoulders. What had he been worried about?

He pushes himself up to his knees, and you roll over to face him. He thinks you might try starting a conversation, but all you do is get comfortable and give in to the exhaustion of blood loss.

“This is a gift, you know,” he says quietly. He’s not even sure if you can hear him. “I won’t forget it.”

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neymiiie · 3 months

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Eyes of the SEES members ~

I’ve always admired artstyles where every character has super unique and recognizable vibes, so decided to try it with the gang. Super fun, highly recommend!

In the process of designing these I developed headcanons for each of their eyes, kind weird but if you want to read me ranting about why I drew Yukaris pupils a certain way or whatever, feel free to click read more lol.

Makoto: I wanted him to look tired, so a lot of his eyelashes go downward instead of upwards, also eye bags because he has insomnia and you can’t convince me otherwise. I didn’t want his eyes to look hollow/empty, but I didn’t want to put super obvious highlights and I think it works? Idk. Also drew his eyes in a way that reminds me of the ocean at night (Atlus gave me a ocean/water motif and I run with it ok?). His eyebrows are kinda “messy” in comparison to the others but I think it makes his eyes prettier so it is in character to me.

Yukari: I wanted her eyes to look a little more intense and turned them a little to give them a slightly “angry look”. Yukari should have a light case of rbf imo. I feel like Yukari puts a lot of effort into her appearance, and she probably wears more makeup but I cannot draw that to save my life lmao. Her eyebrows are probably the least messy other than Mitsurus, for the same reason as the previous one. Also hard to tell, but I put hearts in her pupils because it’s cute. Really proud of these ones, they read like hers so well to me.

Junpei: Junpeis eyes were so fun to draw! I feel like he’d have pretty short lashes and slightly smaller eyes, but still very vibrant! I really wanted his eyes to look full of life but still pretty simple, and I think I did pretty well! They feel very expressive to me. Also I feel like he’d have naturally very thin eyebrows, so gave him that lol.

Akihiko: idk how I feel about these, but I guess they’re alright? Gave him a kinda intense stare ig. I gave him really long natural eyelashes because I feel like he’d have them (canonical pretty boy that he is) and I’m somewhat proud of them because I stuggle with making longer eyelashes look masculine so guess this is a win. Gave him an eyebrow slit because I was so sure he had one in p4arena only to find out he didn’t even have eyebrows in it. What.

Fuuka: I feel like Fuukas neutral expression would still look slightly confused/concerns so her eyes are a little droopy. Gave her short but thick eyebrows because I thought it would be cute. Her eyes kinda remind me of rain and I like that! Also sidenote love the fact that official art draws fuuka with teal eyebrows. The implication that she was either born with teal hair or is so dedicated to the dye job she even dyed her eyebrows is hilarious to me. I know blue is treated as a normal hair color in persona-universe but Fuuka is literally the only one with teal hair how is it not dyed but yosuke and chies is??

Mitsuru: I wanted Mitsuru to be pretty. I gave her thinner but crisp eyebrows and eyeliner. I was a little worried because before I started shading her eyes looked kinda evil?? Lol but they turned out better in the end. Didn’t do a lot of details in her eyes because it felt like it worked better that way, but gave her bright highlights in her eyes to make up for it.

Aigis: These are my least favorite, and the first ones I did. Not sure if thats awful, because I wanted them to be very different from the rest. I feel like Aigis doesn’t actually have this wide eyes but willingly widens them so you can see the whole iris. I feel like her eyes would look more normal at a distance, and most of her classmates just assume she’s got weird eyes because they’re an uncommon eye color (major “give her brown contacts please” energy). Made her eyes look like does target-thingys and slightly plastic-y.

Ken: I didn’t want his eyes to be to bright, but still lively and childish. I gave him round wide eyes + smaller and thicker eyebrows to give a more childish feel. His eyelashes are pretty short but made them point more downwards since they looked too cheerful when turned upwards.

Shinjiro: dunno how readable these are as shinji, but theyre fine. Made his eyes very dark and put bright highlights cause I thought it looked better than the grey he actually has. Also gave him major eyebags because man has not had a good nights rest since like. Last October (sorry)

#persona #persona 3 #p3 #aigis #makoto yuki #yukari takeba #junpei iori #akihiko sanada #fuuka yamagishi #mitsuru kirijo #ken amada #shinjiro aragaki #minato arisato #fanart #artists on tumblr #beating same face syndrome one body part at a time:#hopefully these are actually readable as the characters they are supposed to be to other people than me lmao

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

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That lil house, between your legs, where all my dreams wait

A Sarge & lil Mama fic -the Proposal

Summary: Elvis informs a certain girl of his dreams that she’s gonna marry him…she’s got some concerns and conditions, one includes him making sure his babies will fit in her lil house

Warnings: Umm, the mild usual with this universe? Themes of breeding, housewife and innocence kink, ill informed consent regarding a pussy inspection and said pussy inspection and descriptions of a vagina (ok, it’s Elvis being a creep and looking up her skirt on her request, but made cute ok?) mentions of Gladys’ death

-February of ‘58 timeline change

“It’s been decided.” is the first thing out of his mouth that morning as he strides up to Elaine where she stands in the shade of her father’s porch.

She’d been over at Graceland all day yesterday and the evening, too, -most days here lately- trying to make him eat, trying to keep him company, trying to get him out of his mother’s closet. It had been in the reverse order of all that, but she had done it. She was the only human that Private Elvis Presley would take orders from, though he reckoned she didn’t guess that. Sweetly, softly, efficiently, she’d gotten him out and gotten him calmed down and gotten him fed. Probably would have put him to bed if he hadn't given her a weak smile and told her to run on now, he wanted to discuss something with her father.

And now he’s here on her porch, looking like maybe he did sleep after all, judging by the rumpled state of his usually pristine hair. It’s growing out a little since they shore him of his prized locks. She thinks he looks better this way, prettier and sweeter without the gel and the sulk. He looks older, too, the way his arms bulge from push-ups and bootcamp, highlighted by the way they bracket the porch posts as the heavy weight of his gaze flicks over her.

“What’s been decided?” Elaine asks him from the gloom of the porch, squinting at his looming silhouette as it’s outlined by the white, bright, February sun.

She’s unable to recall a single loose end regarding the funeral arrangements he had charged her to oversee. It’s over and down with. Miss Gladys is six feet below the sod in Graceland’s backyard and the fans and family have been hosted with impeccable hospitality by herself, the obituaries and memorials written, the flowers preserved as long as possible. Elaine noticed a few petals had started to fall from the Peace Lilly spray when she was over yesterday. She’d picked them up hastily, hoping he didn’t notice that even those were dying. The decisions are all over and done with, he’s due back to the army in a month. And she’s back to teach and produce at RCA.

“It’s been decided and don’t you go objectin, it’s for the best.” he repeats insistently, but his jittering leg gives away the bold act. He’s nervous, she realizes.

“What is it, Elvis?” she asks, voice soft and encouraging as it’s been all week.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he says, “talked it over with your daddy an’ everything, it’s settled. Graceland hasn’t got a mistress no more, and you belong there. Saw it all week, you’re perfect for it.”

He informs her -not asks, ask would imply some free will on her part- like it’s her required duty to the nation or something. Marry him. Like taxes or the draft.

“You outta your ever lovin mind?” she whispers, genuinely worried he’s snapped under the weight of his publically analyzed grief. She’s seen how useless Vernon has been in comforting him, she knows how lonely it gets when one’s mama isn’t there to comfort you for her dying on ya. Elaine really feels for him, she does.

He was there for her when it happened to her, so she’s been there for him. But she knows this can’t be more than a half baked idea.

“I’m dead serious.” he growls, his ferocity taking her aback, she shifts her weight from foot to foot and eyes him warily, “I told ya, it’s all settled, your daddy said yes, you ain’t got anythin to object to.”

“Don’t I just?!” she laughs, “Elvis, you’re just sayin this cause I’ve been with ya during these last few days, and you’re hurtin and you’re lonely and it’s understandable and I’ll be there for ya, always. But you just had a girl, and this’ll pass sure enough. You’re Elvis Presley, your life’ll go on after this. And, and I-well, I’ve been wanting to get married and I want babies and I’ve wanted it for awhile now. I’ve waited on ya to help me like ya promised but I won’t be played with, I won’t! Not even by you. Not even when you’re sore.”

“You want babies?” he asks, his voice low and a sweaty hand leaves the porch post and cups her cheek, calloused fingers digging into her scalp when she goes to pull away, “I’ll give ya babies.”

“I’m being serious, Elvis!” she complains, neck craned away from his assessment of her lips. She never jokes about children, and she won’t let him.

“So am I.” his soft, boyish face looks hopeful suddenly, and rather capable. “I’ll give ya babies, far more than most men could manage.”

“How?” she whispers, his persistent sobriety throwing her into confusion.

“How?” he repeats, copying her quiet tone, distantly hearing the faint squeak of the porch swing chains as the breeze lazily rocks it.

“Yes,” she hesitantly goes on, “how do you know you can? How does anyone know if they can?” It’s something that's bothered her for awhile now. The idea of marrying a man who fails to give her children like Mrs. Myers husband down the street. Five years married and no kids, it’s the talk of the neighborhood. Or those starlets who manage to never have a child and disfigure their waists, no matter the amount of masculine company they keep.

Elvis cocks his head to the side, a puzzled glimmer in his eyes as Elaine’s bashfully inquiring eyes plead with him to understand her burning curiosity. And when he does -fully understand her naïveté, that is- he feels his cock twitch beneath his belt.

“Wellll,” Elvis draws the word out and she is swaying towards him now, that boiling hunger to learn coiling her tight as she hangs on to his every syllable, “I’m pretty confident, it’s just a thing that a man can tell, ya see, it’s a guess, but an educated one. But, we could make sure.” he’s winging it at this point, and shaming his heavenly mother while he’s at it, but he can’t seem to stop himself, not now that he knows he’ll be her teacher and her claimer if he can just make her agree, “We could check and make certain I ain’t overpromisin’, make sure the furniture fits the house, if ya get my drift.”

She doesn’t get his drift. That’s plain to see by the quizzical furrow of her eyebrows and the gape of her plump mouth as she tries to make sense of his euphemisms. Clever and bright Elaine Phipps looking a bit dumb as she blinks up at him in the shade of her front porch makes him smirk wickedly.

“You want children?” she asks, instead of taking him up on his offer just now.

“Most certainly do, we talked bout this before, Elaine.”

“You were complainin bout Anita, back then. Anything to find fault with her, doesn’t mean ya like children.” she crosses her arms and it pushes up her girlish bosoms, pale and promising beneath her gingham check house dress. He’s gonna make those bigger, so plump they’ll spill over that merely adequate neckline.

“Look here you got it wrong, Anita and the rest, they were nice gals, yeah?” he concedes, but it’s just to launch his next explanation, “But they weren’t mama material, ya see? My mama, she told they weren’t fittin, and she told me you were. Just as all the twiggy boys and sleek doctors and the artists fellers ya hang round, they either want your money or they’ll only make decent beaux -but they ain’t gonna make good daddy’s. Mark my words.”

“And what, you don’t want my money?” she teases.

“Now, ‘Laney honey, I’m the one who makes ya your money.” he laughs, tweaking her nose with his fingers and she bats his hand away with a giggle. “And conversely ya own my voice, you’re on my label as a producer, right next to your ole man.”

“Speaking of,” she grows earnest, “ya know Sam Cooke? Signed onto RCA right after ya?”

“Yeah, what of ‘im?” he frowns, impatient this conversation has gotten derailed from its original purpose -to the topic of another man, and a swanky one at that, “You gonna marry him?” he balks.

“No, no! though if he asked…” she winks and he squeezes her waist in warning, feeling the soft flesh give under her girdle from his pressure. That’s how it’ll feel to hold onto her when she rides him.

“What bout him?”

“So, he’s gonna start another record company,” she looks so earnest and invested in the topic he has to let her go on, “one where the artists will have control and rights to their music! And he’ll stay at RCA in the meantime but he’s tryin’ to find supporters and other to join him, a few have already this first month. And, well -“

“What?” he asks again, and it makes her lashes flutter as she gets shy under his stare, “Ya want me to join?”

“Well yeah! Though I doubt Parker would let ya. But that isn’t what I was gonna tell ya.” she bites her lip, “My point is, the point is -that Sam has offered me to be a producer! I mean -Elvis! We’re talkin Cooke, Redding and Smokey and well Burke and- lord it would work for you! But the point is, I’m gonna be doin that, I’m thinkin of taking him up on it.”

“Now hang on a second.” he shakes her gently by his hold on her waist, “One minute you’re objectin to marryin me cause I’m ‘Elvis’ and you say that as if babies an’ me don’t go together like cookies and cream -and now here ya are all talkin bout hangin with cool cats and producin and climbin the laddeh. Which ya want honey? Thought you wanted to be a mama?”

“I’m just saying,” she stamps her foot in the little bit of floor space his crowding has given her on the porch, “You’re talkin bout marryin and Graceland havin a missus and meanwhile you’re gonna be gone across the ocean! How’s that make any sense? Ya don’t need a wife for that, I could be house sittin for ya just as well, while producin with Cooke in the meanwhile and when you get back, I’ve no doubt you’ll fall in with some starlet or other. See? There, fixed. Sensible plan now. And I agree to it, yer welcome.”

“Little girl, yer not hearin me at all.” he raps his knuckles against her oh so sensible yet silly head, her startled indignance the cutest thing he’s ever seen, “I want me a woman to marry before God, to give my children to, to raise those children to a right legacy, to help me make a change for good in all this mess. And I want that to be you.” he articulates the last sentence clearly and prods his index finger against her chest, like the finger of fate marking her out for this.

“Elvis i-“she shakes her head adamantly, and he thinks it must be a little hard for her to understand that his every daydream, every evening prayer, every midnight spill into the sheets these last two years have been about making a family outta her. But she will get the vision, she’s gotta. She has to. Or else. Else he’ll do somethin rash and unchristian if she doesn’t relent to bind herself to him before he goes back to Fort Hood.

Somethin real rash, like wring her neck or admit he’s a goddamn slave for her. Embarrass them both. She probably can tell, the way he’s gripping her and nearly salivating over such close proximity to her lips and body and everything. He has to remember his mama, has to remember how to treat the gal she pointed out to him in the manner befitting a new Mrs Presley.

“You want babies? Hmm?” he’s breathing in her exhales he’s so close, as she’s bowed backwards as he leans in, her little head almost bumping her fathers front door in an effort to keep their lips apart, “I’ll give ya babies. You wanna make good music? The best in music is holdin ya right now, baby. You wanna make a difference? I know ya do, ya want power and ya want security and money and ya want love, don’t ya? Way I see it, I’ll give ya that. Better and more of it than anyone. Sensible plan, ain’t that what ya called yours? Well, here’s one, damn sight more sensible than yours and tryin all this solo.”

Her pretty lips are puffing with each labored breath she takes to steady herself and her eyes track over his face intently, and he knows she weighing the pluses and the minuses, his fame verses money and his moods over his devotion and his appetites over his loyalty and anonymity over influence. The hands she has pressed to his chest to keep them apart soften with each passing moment.

“But -do ya even love me, Elvis?” she asks, a note of something very sad but a little hopeful lingering in her voice. Like she’s mourning the fact that she’s considering this for all the reasons that make her so wonderfully practical, but the girl in her can’t help but wish for a little romance.

A gust of a breeze whips her hair around her in a swirl of brushed out curls and her eyes sparkle even in the porch’s shade. He cups that precious, brave little face in his hands and presses her against the screen door, neighbors and street traffic be damned

“Oh honey,” he gushes then, cool demeanor abandoned and all that lovely passion she adores in him coming out at last, “I have for a long while now. And I can’t think of a stronger way of showin ya than to give you my babies. To make a life with you, give ya mama’s house and my name. Please say yes, Elaine. Please, please I need ya to say yes.”

“Oh Elvis,” she breathes, feeling him hold her and promise to her and want her is every bit as naturally compelling of obedience as that night of the funeral, but she never once imagined it as his wife, “I just don’t wanna be alone Elvis,” she tries to make him see her true fear, “I’m real honored by this but, but I’m so lonely and I want all this so I won’t be! And you’re gonna be gone. Gone to Germany and then gone to make music and movies and-“

“I’m gonna take ya with me! Always, always together, I swear!” he closes the distance and presses his lips to hers firmly despite her lack of response, “I need me a wife, Elaine,” he pants against her mouth and she can smell the spearmint of his gum, “I need a good woman, and you’re the one mama pointed out to me. Shouldn't of put it off so long but I-I was a fool. I need ya with me everywhere I go, don’t send me across the ocean without you! Don’t, you wouldn’t be so cruel, please baby, please!”

He’s not sure how it happens but he’s slumping down the length of her body, hands sliding along the gorgeous outline of her and suddenly he’s on his knees, painted boards hard against his knees, begging like a groom oughta, his face is pressed to her womb. This womb he’s got such plans for and such right to and he has to make her see that in his head they’ve been married for years already. “I’ve taken care of ya, haven’t I?” he begs her to remember, “You trust me to take care of ya, to love ya, to cherish you, don’t ya, Elaine?”

The kicker is she does. And she’s not sure why she worries more is needed. All she wants right now is to be needed, and the crying, grieving young man clinging to her right now needs her badly. She runs her fingers through his hair soothingly and likes the way that makes him shudder. “Will you always need me, Elvis? Really? Even when good times come round again?” she asks what really worries her.

He pulls his face away and looks up at her, lips puffy and his dark lashes clumped from tears, “Always, Elaine, always.”

“And you’ll give me Graceland?”

“Yeah, course baby, you’ll be my wife, it’ll be yours!”

“I mean...legally, you’ll give it legally.” she doesn’t ask this time, she’s stating conditions.

“I-I-if it matters so much, sure. What’s some more papers?” he laughs. “Why?” he adds with a flicker of dread.

“You won’t divorce me if I’ve got Miss Gladys’ house, will ya?” she explains and has the audacity to grin.

It hurts deeply that she still doesn’t get just how badly he wants her for all eternity. “Why you talkin bout divorce, honey?” he asks wounded.

“So many people get them.” she says mournfully, “And mostly entertainers.”

“That's cause they marry icy bimbos and are selfish bastards.” he states, rising up to his own two feet again, the topic back on safe ground -ground he has the upper hand in. “See, darlin, there’s plenty of men who want wives, and cause the wives want children they tell the poor girls they want kids, too. But they don’t, so once the wives have got the kids they move on. Real dastardly thing to do and more common than you realize. And with your money and your looks, you’ll have a line of such good for nothin bastards linin up with fake promises. You understandin me?”

“Yeah.” she swallows thickly, knowing he knows far more about all this than she does.

“So it’s important to marry someone ya trust, right?” he prods.

“Yeah.”

“More so than even someone ya love, dontchu think?”

“I suppose so.” she nods, care creasing her face, “You don’t mind that I don’t love ya Elvis?” she asks worriedly, “Because I am really fond of ya, and I enjoy you I just -I don’t think I love ya.”

“I’m willin to bet that’ll come.” he says solemnly, “And I’m willin to put in the work to make it grow. Just as I will our babies.”

Her face softens at the mention of the longed for babies. A smile even plays around her mouth, beginning to plump up her cheeks. “Will ya check, then?” she whispers.

“Check what?” he asks, absently thumbing the beautiful line of one of her collarbones.

“If it’ll work.” she blushes, ignorance both emboldening and shaming her all at once, “Make sure we can make babies for sure, you and I.”

“Gotta do that before you say yes?” he laughs, disbelieving and feral at the prospect.

“Yes, it’s important to me, Elvis.” she remonstrates against his humor. “Most important thing of all.”

“A-a-alright, I-I-I’ll check.” his mouth runs dry at the prospect of seeing, smelling, maybe even wetting his fingers in that place he’s wrung himself dry imagining night after night and morning after morning. And the fact she’s asking, offering -under ill informed pretenses as it is. “Can’t do it out here.” he whispers, the depravity of his taking advantage like this actually taking a toll on his bravado.

“Come in then,” she whispers in turn, though from a different motivation, “but be quiet, daddy’s still sleeping, ya kept him up so late.”

She opens the creaky screen door with painstakingly slow care, and the large wooden one, too, with its familiar stained glass windows. It is cool and dark without a lamp on or blind raised inside their den, she’d barely gotten dressed and come downstairs to start breakfast when she heard his car peel out in the front drive.

She spins around just short of the coffee table, her circle skirt swirling and swooshing tantalizingly, no stockings on yet as she wasn’t prepared for guests.

“Where should I….” she trails off as she surveys the different flat spots upon which to perch for this examination, her devout ignorance of the socially condemned nature of it all giving her a chipper confidence that Elvis finds throbbingly attractive in an unschooled virgin.

His voice sounds gravelly and about three octaves deeper than usual when he croaks out, “Anywhere's fine -how bout here…” he picks her up by her waist to sit her on the high top, Oriental imported side table, a gift her father gave her mother as an anniversary present.

It’s taller than the couch and it lets her legs dangle apart naturally. He could easily take himself out and slide right into her at this level. It makes him dizzy when he hears her shaky exhale as he seats her, belying a real, deep seated nervousness on her part that he’ll find some abnormality with her that will crush her dreams. The fact he’s certain she’s not as nervous over a red blooded boy lifting her skirt and looking at her bare cunt makes him so painfully hungry to devour her that he has to gnaw on his bottom lip to keep from groaning. -And taking advantage of what’s not yet his. For his mama's sake, for his mama's dream of this, he’s gotta keep ahold of himself and refrain from anything God might find fault with. For them to be punished with barrenness because Elvis couldn’t hold back before the proper time would be too cruel. He can’t do that to Elaine or himself. He’s gonna be the man in her life, has already been so for awhile now, and he’s gotta do right by her. He thinks this even as he gives her lips another peck and sinks to his knees to give her pussy an inspection that is as futile as it is arousing.

He rubs at her thighs over her dress soothingly, though by her quick breaths he suspects she’d rather he hurry and give a verdict. Her eyes that have been turned towards the staircase, making certain father is still asleep, drop to his face expectantly.

“Here I -let me, I should probably-“ she says determinedly and suddenly she’s pulling at her skirt, the thin fabric sliding from beneath his palms as she lifts it and then he’s holding onto warm flesh instead as she gathers the fabric to her waist.

He chokes on his own spit at her innocent brazenness and has to glance away for a moment from the blood stirring sight of graceful thighs bracketing plain white panties, a wet patch visible on the crotch and a few stray wiry curls sneaking out from the seams at her groin.

“You ok?” she asks, and the genuine concern in his voice tells him that the agonizing need he feels is visible on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just so goddamn pretty.” he admits, truth the only thing he can manage to blurt and it serves him well.

She looks relieved and gives him a pleased smile and chooses to spread her legs wider. So wide in fact that she has her heels propped on the sideboard beside her hips. Who needs stirrups for an examination when a girl can bend like that? Bend…oh god he can’t wait to bend and bury and dump inside her…

Elvis has never wanted to dive face first into a muff so bad in all his life. The wedding is gonna have to be next week. He can’t wait longer than that, he doubts he’ll sleep a wink until he knows what she tastes like.

“Can you tell like this?” her soft voice reminds him he gave her a fucking excuse for this perverted cock tease torture and he reels through the options of backing out now or pushing this a little further. “Or do you need to move these?” she voices the second option for him, the barrier of her panties implied if not mentioned.

“Yeah, gotta look at the lil house.” his voice comes out wavering and wrecked, “Lemme just-“ he tentatively raises his hands to her precious place and hooks his fingers to the cotton panties and pulls them to the side.

She’s so goddamn pink. Glistening and swollen like she’s been freshly teased. Something about him excites her, without her even knowing. Her curls are sopping wet, they slick up his fingers as he holds her apart, and in their strands they’re trapping the most delicious essence he’s ever smelled in his entire life. She hasn’t shaved, she hasn’t primped, she hasn’t stretched herself out, she’s exactly as God made her and he’s the first man to see it.

It causes him to whimper, long and gut wrenched, his whole throat throbbing as he wiggles on the floor.

“Oh…Jesus.” he wheezes.

“What?” she demands peering down at him, and she’s the authoritative one here, now that he’s all but humping the floor in his delicious misery of viewing Elaine Phipps’ perfect, unused cunt. “Will it work? Is something wrong?”

“No no no.” he garbles out, one hand slipping from her slick folds and gravitating to his own lap out of natural instinct, crushing his twitching bulge into submission, “You’re perfect, Elaine, absolutely perfect.” he wants to cry, maybe because he's so horny, maybe because he loves her so damn much. He’s really not sure, nothing makes sense except that he was meant to live inside that perfect little haven of hers that is honest to God trickling before his very eyes. His thumb involuntarily swipes up and spread it to her clit, making her buck towards his attentions.

“It’s achey, Elvis, it’s always achey.” she informs him, “Does that mean anything? Is it wrong?”

And he knows she means wrong as in humanly abnormal, not morally incorrect. He’ll never let her know anyone would think differently. As long as he possibly can he’ll keep her eager and unabashed.

“Nah honey, nah that’s a good sign.” he breathes heavily, still stroking that dribbling, untried place, “Means you’re fertile, means you’re ready for a baby. It’ll keep achin till ya have one in ya.”

“Oh.” her mouth rounds childishly and she nods as if this were a sudden epiphany.

“We should give ya a baby, then, shouldn’t we?” he prods now that he’s got her attention and her arousal.

“I’spose so.” she agrees, tentative, her lip drawn between her teeth, still contemplating this marital bargain with the fabric of her hem crushed in her palms. “Your babies’ll fit?” she asks once more for good measure.

His babies. She’s no idea it’s his cock she should anticipate. “Yeah, perfect fit. Don’t think anyone else’s would.”

“Oh….good.” she lets out a massive sigh of relief she has been holding in for most of her teenage years.

“Gotta marry me, first.” he reminds, swirling his thumb faster and she keens a little before remembering her father upstairs, “I can’t go round givin babies to someone who ain’t my wife, ya know.”

“Alright.” she agrees to marry him in a soft whisper, her hand coming to cover his own tenderly as it works between her legs, stalling his distracting movements.

“What’s that?” he asks again, breathless with hope.

“I’ll marry ya Elvis, if you’re sure we’ll work.”

“I’m sure.” he swears, watching the way her pink hole flutters, “I’ll give ya a baby and fix the ache, darlin. Won’t have to fret over anything again your whole life.”

The floorboards upstairs creak and Elvis nearly yelps in shock, so far gone was he in their own little world he’d forgotten that he’s got her spread bare in her father’s den. He stands up abruptly and pulls her skirt down gently, making her proper again.

Wedding night. He’s gotta wait till the wedding night before trying anything, or even explaining the mechanics of it, he thinks. He doesn’t wanna spook her, and he wants to have her stuck with him before he drops that final little detail about the necessity of a man going inside and blowing his load in order for the miracle of life to occur.

Yeah, that’s not something you tell a skittish little girl who just barely agreed to marry you for your mansion and security.

He’s pulled from this scheming by the feel of her arms winding around his neck, drawing him forward gently and to the immense relief of his battered heart he realizes she is about to kiss him. It’s a sweet kiss, gentle and tentative and growing in surety as she decides she likes it, and it’s the loveliest one he’s ever had, made so by the relief that she must care for him somehow, even if it’s no match for the insane obsession he harbors for her. It’ll do, it’s a seed he can water and grow.

“You’ll stay for breakfast?” she asks him as they pull away, drowsy and a little cross eyed from how long they’ve smooched.

“Love ta.” he murmurs, pulling her off the table and drawing her close so he’s holding her to him, swaying gently and savoring the feeling of his soon to be wife as she nestles into his chest.

Father comes down shortly after.

“It’s settled, sir.” Elvis informs him, a respectful title tacked on to a declaration that leaves no room for argument from either of you, “She’s agreed. And I’m the happiest of men.”

Most fathers might tell him, “congratulations” or “welcome to the family” or if it were someone besides Elvis Presley they might venture a “be true to her.”

Father says not a word, all advice and remonstrance and conditions already expended on this headstrong young man the night before. He surveys the young people as they embrace with a genuine smile on his lips and a world of melancholy in his eyes. Elaine wonders if he is mourning the loss of his own bride, or mourning her future as Elvis’.

For Elvis, though, that day is remembered as the most joyful and blessed of days when he lucked out and snagged the loveliest creature living. And how he came to eat French toast and cantaloupe beside her father without having washed his hands.

#sarge and lil mama #most wholesome breeding kink you ever did see #proposal #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis presley #elvis x you #Elvis one shot #mine #elvis x reader #Elvis x Elaine #elvis austin butler

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happyely2 · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ | The rating will be red this time, so if you are a minor skip this reading or highlight your age in your bio.| sex scenes, cuddles, and much more very explicit.

Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.

✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️

🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 6 - Saltiness

The island you found was desolate.

A desolate paradise just for you.

It took a couple of days of sailing with the medium of Ace and so much coffee to keep him awake, but in the end you managed to get to the island where you would have spent a couple of days just for you. You only talked to WhiteBeard about it, showing him that you had come into possession of a Loge Pose and a map during one of your last raids on an opposing ship.

And the old man gave you permission to go and explore the island in question, and he also told you to call every once in a while so that everyone would not worry.

So you left, backpacks and supplies for the journey and at dawn you were already at sea.

"Ace look at that crystal clear water!" You said by taking off your sandals and dipping them in the water while the Strider slowed down, you had found a natural inlet that created a sort of open-air cave and a small white sandy beach waiting for you.

According to the map that was the only point through which you could access the island or you had to climb a rocky wall and walk around the rocks.

"We gotta anchor the Strider, be careful, all right?" Ace said stroking your hair and then taking a top to throw on the rocks next to it to tow it to shore.

You nodded, you took off your clothes, and you stayed in your bathing suit, you took Ace’s dagger, and then you dived into the water, it was pretty deep, and the bottom was full of corals and fish that you didn’t seem to mind.

You went deeper to catch some fish and start exploring the surroundings to understand the map directions.

You stayed underwater until the Strider’s shadow disappeared, and only then did you decide to surface with the small loot you had procured.

"So what?" Ace was on the beach, had already set a fire and with fallen trees he had created benches on which to sit and had begun to prepare the tent.

"Look, I caught a lot of fish!" you said by showing him your loot and he laughed and left a kiss on your cheek.

"I’ll start cooking them, it’ll take a while if you want to take another bath you can." He said as a snap of his fingers lit the fire. You nodded and went back into the water, using the rocks to dive in and start looking for other useful information. The bottom was full of sand, with rocks and corals at least five meters high, swimming in it was quite easy and even the passages themselves were very easy. There didn’t seem to be any dangerous predators.

A good yellowfin fish walked by and started following them.

It was better to stock them up because you had travelled light.

You went out a couple of hours later from the water, Ace had dedicated himself to cleaning the fish and had him cooking on the fire, he had also been so careful to take off the bone.

You hung the rest of your loot on a branch so as not to put it on the ground and you lay down on the tablecloth that one guy had prepared for you to dry in the sun.

A hand on your back made you smile, Ace had sat next to you, with food ready, two giant bowls of rice and fish in hand.

You tied your wet hair and sat next to Ace to enjoy the shade and the light sea breeze that he had taken to blow.

"How was the water?"

"Beautiful, you don’t know how many corals I’ve seen of different colors." You responded by leaning on him and eating your meal: "No predators, no small sharks, no moray eels, or they’re somewhere else or I don’t know." You said biting your meal.

Ace laughed and after a while he took the map you brought.

"At least that makes things easier for us. The treasure should be here, sorry to make you do all the work." He said Ace by finishing his meal and placing the bowl on a rock near you and carefully observing the designs and directions that were present on the parchment.

"Don’t worry Honey, sometimes it’s right that I do something too, usually you do everything." You kissed him on the shoulder and Ace grinned and lay down with you in the afternoon sun to get some rest.

You have fallen asleep close to each other with the background noise of the sea.

Until the Lumacofano started playing insistently and made you wake up suddenly, Ace took him and the calm and calm voice of Marco interrupted the silence that had been created.

"We’re fine, we were resting." Ace said with his voice still sleepy. The sun was still high in the sky, you hadn’t slept too much.

"Better yet, do you have any news?"

"We found the spot indicated by the map, but as we suspected there are no caves on the surface, they will be underground, it will take a while to catch the treasure." You said while you stretched your legs and arms.

Before you started and before you podevate enjoy your short vacation.

"All right, let us know if you need anything, I should be able to find it in a short time and I recommend that you hear." He reiterated Marco closing the conversation.

"Still with this story they know very well that if we don’t call everything is fine." He said Ace putting the Slug back in his place and then taking his hat from the rock in which he had laid it.

"Do you want to start seeing where the treasure is?" He asked you as he saw you were tying a waterproof bag to your waist.

"Yes, I want to use the light before the sun goes down." You answered by turning to him and smiling at him.

Ace nodded and handed you his knife, just in case it was always better to be prepared he told you, despite the absence of predators did not trust to let you swim not without protection.

"You see that rock there in the middle, it swims immediately in that direction and you notice something strange, I’ll come and get you right away." Ace said by snapping a loud kiss on your cheek.

You nodded and went into the water.

Your exploration lasted literally until sunset and was really very profitable. The currents were not strong and the crystal clear water had allowed you to find the chest immediately, along with everything that was on the bottom.

It was a great haul. Ace helped you get him out of the water by exploiting the rocks that emerged from the sea and before the sun went down you had almost everything.

"Tomorrow we will organize the space on the Strider for tonight we can rest." He said taking your life and taking you for a ride in mid-air.

You laughed happy, for once a mission proceeded smoothly. It was too good to be true.

The camp was ready, dinner was ready, and the inventory of what you found had already been made by Ace as you brought something back to the gala.

You wore a perforated sundress and you enjoyed the evening with Ace, he asked you every detail of the bottom, the fish you saw and many other things.

Ace a little envied you, having eaten a fruit of the devil could not stay with you in salt water.

It was a shame because he would have liked to take long swims with you to explore the seabed.

"Ace... will you help me get the salt out of my body?" You whispered in his ear resting for a moment your lips on the lobe and then withdrawing almost immediately and melting the sundress that you had put on your self.

Ace envied you a little bit, but he always liked it when you asked him to help you get rid of salt in your body.

"With pleasure my love." said your man approaching you and holding you close to him. Ace wasted no time searching for your lips, he bitten them urgently and licked them immediately after.

She took advantage when you hatched her to better deepen the kiss, Ace made you taste the salt that was deposited on your body.

You scratched his hips and Ace sighed inside your kiss when you started tinkering with his belt.

But first he had to get the salt out of your body.

Ace has abandoned your lips, descending down your neck and savoring every inch with his burning tongue. You have arched your back to feel it closer to Ace has harpooned your butt with his warm hands to pick you up and lift you and brought you near a rock to make you sit.

A thrill descended down your spine in contact with the cold rock, but Ace’s warm tongue warmed you up right away. Your top piece had flown away and now it lay on the white sand as Ace’s mouth moved greedily over your breast.

Ace was licking, biting, sucking hard, and nippling you, making you scream with pleasure, and you were alone and you could afford it.

"What a hungry sailor." You whispered to him, clutching his hair and pulling a little when Ace bit his nipple hard.

"Ahhh..." You groaned your legs, looking for some satisfaction.

"Yes I am a very hungry sailor." He told you by licking the other nipple and taking them both together, starting to caress them and bite them with his teeth.

You screamed again for pleasure and Ace enjoyed every single groan that came out of your lips.

He loved taking you to the edge.

He continued his descent of kisses on your belly, biting and scratching the skin near your navel and then quickly removed the piece from under your costume, noting with pleasure the stain that had formed on it.

"Someone here needs to be properly controlled." He said as he knelt on the sand and used the height of the rock to be able to admire you better.

"Acee..." You tried calling him, but your voice died in your throat when his tongue crept in. You arched your back again as Ace’s hand came back to tighten your nipple and the other one held your leg still.

"Shhh Love, let me take this salt off you." He whispered to you, got back inside you and made you scream at too much stimulation.

Her fingers had penetrated you, middle and index fingers, as her tongue made circles around your clitoris and tapped it just enough to make you wince and moan loudly. You had tears in your eyes from how much it was stimulating you.

And you felt like you were reaching the limit.

You tried to stop him, to get up, but his hands stopped you, he tightened your thighs tighter and intensified your tongue movements.

"Aceee... I.... I come..." You said arching your back and seeing for a moment the stars closest to you. And Ace didn’t walk away, but he ate all of you.

"So good just for me." He told you by kissing your lower belly and slowly going up to your lips and then catching them in a needy kiss

You held it to yourself, making your breast adhere to her chest and feeling the thrill of her cool red pearls in contact with your warm skin.

You heard a rustle of clothes, Ace’s boots flying somewhere and then his presence pounding on your lower abdomen.

You have moved the hips of instinct and you have widened a little more the legs and Ace entered inside your pussy with one and only push, going to hit your sensitive point.

"I found a treasure." He whispered in your ear, made you blush and started pumping inside you.

"Perhaps I’d have a bigger reward if you behave yourself sailor." You answered him kissing him again urgently. And Ace went crazy and started pushing harder into you.

One thrust, two spines, three thrusts and you screamed with pleasure when Ace hit that spot again, it didn’t give you time to recover that it kept pumping all its length inside you.

You could feel your walls tightening tightly to his cock and getting wetter and wetter as he kept hitting incessantly and nonstop.

"Love..." A whisper, a poorly restrained groan and a silent request.

You nodded and kissed him again and allowed him to pour into you.

You both came, collapsing on the cold rock and panting, but happy.

Ace picked you up once he got out of you and brought you by the fire. You curled up on him and listened to his heartbeat.

"We should do this more often." he said while playing with your locks of hair.

"What?" you asked leaving a kiss on his chest.

"Look for underwater treasures." He responded by rekindling the fire with his power.

"Maybe next time you could be the sailor who stole the mermaid’s tail." You said already imagining the situation.

"Ohhh... and what would this mermaid do to get her tail back." Ace bit your neck, and you sighed at his hand, and it was creeping back into you.

"Ahhh... I think he could do anything Love." You kissed him back.

"It took you three whole days to recover all this stuff?" Satch looked at you puzzled. I mean, it was a nice haul, but generally it would have taken less.

"How much sun did you take?" asked Marco noting your tanned skin and the fact that there was no sign of the costume.

Izo laughed, or if he laughed relishing the scene of your interrogation. Marco and Satch didn’t want to admit the evidence, and White Beard also laughed with him.

"Three days? What did you do?"

You turned red to remember the days you spent sunbathing and making love to Ace on the beach.

"Come on, Satch, any self-respecting pirate is very careful to make sure he’s got all the treasure." Ace’s hand had rested on your back, even though it was next to you you could feel the grin that had appeared on his face perfectly.

Oh he took all the treasure.

"What’s wrong with our little sister?" Izo approached you, seeing you red as a pepper: "Too strong a heat stroke?" He winked at you while you took his cheeks to pinch him and Ace laughed.

"These two will drive us crazy Marco." Satch enjoyed the scene alongside Marco and the Fenice nodded.

You really were the worst generation, you and Ace.

#one piece #portgas ace smut #ace smut #ace x oc #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portugas d ace #one piece ace #portgas d ace smut #ace one piece #one piece smut #Happy_Ely🪷

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vcidgalpin · 1 year

Note

hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on tyler galpin in which y/n is an addams who's a nevermore student. she's the same as wednesday but shy and more insecure. one day after her therapy session she goes to the weathervane where she meets tyler. that soon becomes a routine, the two grow really close and become more than just friends. he's one of the few people she lets her guard down and feels comfortable with.

i'd like it to be with fluff and him making her feel appreciated and loved, reassuring her.

thank you <3

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x Reader

Summary: As the Request says. Title inspired by the Taylor Swift song ‘It’s nice to have a friend’.

Wednesday and Y/N Addams are two sides of the same dark coin. Growing up, the twins were constantly compared, their differences only being acknowledged as the two came into their own. While Wednesday is more sure of herself, full of confident dry wit and a sense of being one not to mess with, Y/N is more closed off. And yes, some may look at her sister and not think that anyone could be more reserved than her, but that’s just how she is.

Y/N struggles to put up a front of not showing emotions, her heart is on her sleeve, but she gets flustered easily, falls in love too fast and runs away from her problems. In the Addams family, all of these have been labeled as signs of weakness, so that’s just how Y/N sees herself. It’s inevitable that people compare themselves to others, and it’s especially hard when your sister is the family’s ‘perfect little death trap’ etc. Y/N also carried the same dark hobbies, a love for the macabre, but most of that came out in fits of rage, in her lonesome, trying not to burden others with her over-emotionalness’

It was quite a punch to the gut upon arriving at Nevermore Academy, when the custom uniforms just further highlighted that Wednesday was one to stand out, in stark contrast shades of black and, and Y/N blends into the towering stone walls, in a dull mix of grays. She couldn’t be too mad about it either, because it did reflect her usual desaturated wardrobe, but Y/N couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to just fit in with the other students, don herself in the blue uniform, but that’s not the Addams family way.

Hearing the information during the tour that there was a local town, only a 25 minute walk away, to escape to, was music to Y/N’s ears. It was also the location of her therapist’s office.

After her first session with Dr. Kinbott, Y/N steps out into the cool air, she spots a coffee shop across the road. The ‘Weathervane’. Needing a pick me up, she saunters over and enters in, the scent of coffee and hot chocolate hitting her nose instantly. She walks over to the front bar area, noticing a curly haired boy phasing out, looking out the window onto the dull scape of Jericho.

“Hi,”

“Oh shit, didn’t see you there sorry,” The young guy says with a dazed voice, clutching his heart.

“I get that a lot, don't worry,” A small, polite smile meets her face.

“Shit no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way or anything sorry, I just- right lean this way and look out that window,” He says, pointing in the direction of something outside, “You see that?” Leaning in and following where his finger is going, she sees her classmate Enid trying to save a cat out of a tree, hopping up and down frantically but she’s a fraction too short. “I wish I had her patience,” He chuckles, “She’s been there for about 10 minutes,”

‘I don’t know how I missed her while walking over here’ She thought to herself before looking over to the barista again, suddenly noticing just how close his face is to hers. Stammering while leaning back away from him, her face turns beet-red. “I- Sorry,”

“Sorry? For what?” He looks puzzled, still smiling warmly, tilting his head to the side slightly. Y/N tends to apologize without reason and can’t come up with a lie to cover it up, so he decides this time to just shrug and fiddle with her hands.

“Well, what can I get you- uh… Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Oh. I’m Y/N,” She squints to see his name tag, “Nice to meet you, Tyler,”

“Nice to meet you too. What can I get you, Y/N?”

“Could I get three shots of espresso, please?”

“Wow, that’s not what I was expecting,” He laughs breathily.

“And what were you expecting?” Y/N subconsciously grows a bit of confidence through this witty back and forth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He teases back, before walking off to tap her order into the espresso machine. It whirs away, and Y/N admires the boy from her spot, tapping her card onto the card machine, hearing the familiar ding of an approved payment.

“Here you go, Y/N. So, can I expect to see you around her again sometime? I can tell by that uniform that you’re a Nevermore student right? Lots of them come in here with their friends over the weekend,”

“Yeah, I don’t really think anyone will bring me here. I think most of them didn’t even acknowledge me joining the school so… You can probably tell by this gray uniform I don’t exactly stand out,”

“I think the gray compliments you well, like a layer of smoke covering something deeper down. You really are mysterious,” She flushes once again, no one has ever given such a compliment to her.

“Mysterious?”

“Yeah, I can tell you are good at hiding things, you probably have a lot of dirt on people, ready to use when necessary. It’s kind of spooky actually,” Okay, yeah, Y/N is definitely getting hot under her collar from the array of compliments. All she ever secretly wanted was to be seen as intimidating or spooky.

“Well, thank you. Anyways, I’ll be off. I’ll be back soon,”

“You promise?” He smirks.

“I never promise,”

By now, Y/N and Tyler have spent time drinking about 20 coffees together, and have gotten to learn more about each other than anyone else in their lives.

“You know, underneath that smoke screen is an amazing person. I don’t understand how I haven’t seen you with any friends around here, you are a catch,”

“Haha, I really don’t think so… I’d prefer to just wait for someone else to approach me,” She stops and sips her coffee.

“Yeah, that would work if you didn't suffer from resting murder face. Besides, you approached me, and look, you didn’t combust, nothing bad will happen,” He reassures the girl, placing his palm over her hand that rests on the table across from him.

“Well, you do understand how the hospitality industry works right? And you remember that we met because you work here, yeah?” Her eyebrows wiggle teasingly, letting herself laugh.

“See, that laugh is contagious as hell. Anyone would be blessed to know you. Hey, since you don’t make ‘promises’, what’s your thoughts on bets?”

“Sure, I don’t back down from bets. If they involve danger or risk of death that’s just a cherry on top,” Her dead gaze bores into Tyler, and she finds humor in his worried adjustment of posture.

“Right well. This one doesn’t unfortunately… But I wanna place a bet that if you go over and talk to that table, and show them your true self, then you’ll make some new friends,”

“And if they don’t engage? What are our respective prizes?”

“If you don’t make friends, then I will pay for all of your coffees for a month,”

“What do you get if I do?”

“I get to see you happy, I mean, either way I guess I win,” He smiles, winking playfully.

“God, you are the master of cheese. The only way this could get worse is if you added a stupid pun or something,” Her eyes roll dramatically before getting up from her seat, Tyler goes to (Y/N assumes) make a ‘stupid pun’, before she stops him in his tracks “I will make sure you never speak again if you continue with that, coffee boy,”

Y/N then walks off, sending a wink over her shoulder before all that confidence drains again, and she feels how she normally does without Tyler’s company. She sees the familiar faces of Enid, Yoko and Bianca sitting in the booth Tyler had gestured to.

“Um- Hi guys, sorry if this is weird, I just was wondering if I could sit with you guys? It’s okay if not I just-“

“Sure! You’re Y/N right? I have been meaning to check in on you since you moved here. My followers have been very intrigued in getting to know anything about you,” Enid talks at a million miles a minute, and it would be annoying if it wasn’t so well intended and endearing.

“Well, I guess you all know I’m Wednesday’s sister-“

“Hey, I thought I said I wanted to know about you, not who you’re related to. What are you interested in? What’s your power? What-“

“Sorry. Enid can be a bit overbearing,” The vampire speaks over the werewolf’s ranting.

“No, no it’s okay. The more she talks, the less I have to. I’d call that a win,” That earns a laugh from Yoko and Bianca. It makes her feel nice to have made other people smile. After chatting away for what could have been minutes or could have been hours, Y/N looks around the Weathervane, meeting the watching eyes of Tyler. He smiles, giving a look of victory, before getting up, pulling his coat on. Before he can reach the door, she says her goodbyes to her classmates, and chases after Tyler.

“I don’t know about you, but I think you definitely made some friends over there. Seems like you don’t need me anymore,” His voice holds a light hearted tone but Y/N can tell he is slightly overthinking on this.

“Hey. Even if I do make some friends, you’ll always be my favorite… Drive me back?”

“Of course,” He takes her hand in his and they walk out, the bell on the door jingling as they exit.

They arrive at the gates of Nevermore, and just sit together in the car for a moment. This has become a bit of a routine, neither of them really wanting the day to end.

“I really want to thank you, I never would’ve done that back there if it wasn't for you,”

“Well you’ve helped me a lot too. You help me when I’ve had a bad day, and you never let my dad get away with his passive aggression towards me, like you’re my scary guard dog,” His laugh always makes Y/N smile.

“You make me feel safe too, even safer than my pocket dagger makes me,” Y/N unconsciously leans closer to Tyler in the driver’s seat. He moves closer too.

“I really like you Y/N. More than a friend,”

“I mean, you know how new I am to this whole friendship thing, but this definitely feels different to how I feel around Enid or Yoko,”

“Oh yeah? How’s it different?” Y/N can feel his warm breath on her face now.

“I mean, I definitely don’t have the urge to kiss either of those two,” She musters up as much confidence as she’s capable of, and presses a small kiss to his soft lips. He looks taken aback as she pulls away, but his face lightens, and he cups her jaw, kissing her. He tastes like fresh coffee, and smells like an autumnal scented candle. He moves away to make a quick remark,

“Just a word of wisdom, this is not a typical friend thing to do,” She pushes him playfully, and he retaliates by gripping the front of her shirt and kissing her more passionately than before. Today was certainly eventful, somehow the previously friendless, insecure girl was plus 3 friends and plus 1 boyfriend. Showing her true self that she’d hidden for so long actually turned out to be something for better than for worse.

She decides for the first time in her life, she’ll make a promise. A promise to herself that she won’t hide away behind the gray of her clothes, and actually put herself out there to other people.

#tyler galpin #tyler wednesday #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fluff #wednesday netflix

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sanctus-ingenium · 10 months

Note

how clean are you colors before you merge them into the lines for painting? because i cant seem to find a balance between "my god i need to do this whole thing from scratch (too sloppy)" and "well whats the point of painting here (nothing left to paint if i merged the lineart)". sorry if this doesnt make any sense idk how to word myself better sometimes

I think I get you! Honestly I have a kind of threshold I reach where I know that I’ve done all that I can on separate layers and if I were to keep them separate, I’d just be creating more hassle for myself/forced to select layers and keep everything properly organised and it becomes a drag when I’d just rather be painting. And this is usually because I want to take advantage of the mixing effect of Sai’s paintbrush tool to start blending stuff. Also all my colours are on one layer anyway from the beginning (if I need especially ‘clean’ colours I might have a layer for them but I always merge them to the main colour layer before continuing). (also sorry I am away from my pc for a bit so I can’t show you actual Sai screenshots.. you will have to imagine). I ended up writing out the whole process in a way which is probably unhelpful

So for a painting like that one in the last post, I do my lines. Then I close the lines with a separate layer in the same folder (because the lineart looks better with gaps, but i fill colour by selecting outside the lineart while the folder is active, inverting selection, and paint bucket tool. Then delete the layer that closes the lineart). Base colour is usually the most common one in the palette. When I plan to merge the lines I usually make them solid/normal layer mode and colour the lines exactly to match the colours beneath, which is tedious but helps avoid the kind of translucent look lines on multiply layer give. But for that one the lines are on multiply. I lock the colour layer and paint in the other colours - different markings, materials, etc. It can be pretty rough because I know I can just paint over a wonky looking edge, but not so rough that I will have to go over it excessively later. Then with the lines and colours still on 2 separate layers, I put them both in a folder and clip a multiply layer onto that for cast shadows. Paint in cast shadows (again, it’s pretty rough, I know I will be merging & touching up everything at the end so it doesn’t have to be perfect. I hate multiply as a way to shade but I wanted shadows fast, again like I said it was a sketch I over-rendered I didn’t plan to polish it up so much. Normally I choose shadow colours and paint them like normal in the colour layer).

Then I merged the folder and the multiply layer into one layer (i usually make a copy of the lineart to keep it intact, just in case, and keep it hidden in the psd file). I make a new layer and paint in details that need to be sharp - usually around the eyes and face, where there is a focal point. This is because the default paintbrush in Sai has a slight mixing effect, and if I went in on the same layer it would not be as sharp. I use this new layer to paint in areas that need this sharp contrast and clean, tapered lines - like the stray hair and fluffy bits. Then merge all. Now I paint over the main layer all the things that don’t need that sharp treatment, this time taking advantage of the slight mixing effect of Sai’s paintbrush - I like this effect a lot and it’s what I use to blend the lineart into the colours, you can kind of ‘pull’ the lines out a little into the surrounding colour to make them less stark. Then I clip a new multiply layer to it, all one shade, to dim the entire painting so that the stark white highlights stand out more, clip a new layer on that, do the white highlights, merge all and bam it’s done

#no readmore sorry

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drowninginliquidsmooth · 2 years

Text

Ice Cold - Tom Kazansky x Fem!reader

A first date to the ice cream parlour with our beloved ice man <3 ( reader is Nick Bradshaw’s younger sister )

Warnings: slightly OOC! Ice, One swear word (if you spot any others let me know)

With trembling hands, you struggled to layer mascara onto your eyelashes. Labelling yourself as ‘nervous’ would be an extreme understatement. ‘Utterly Terrified’ would be more on the mark.

It was your first ever date with Tom “Iceman” Kazansky.

Despite the warnings to never date a pilot from your brother, Nick, you couldn’t resist flirting when it came to the notorious Iceman. Both Nick and Pete had demanded you stay away from Ice, claiming he was “nothing but a playboy flirt with a nice smile,” but to you, he was a beautiful man who seemed to have a genuine interest in you.

Seemed to.

You weren’t entirely sure if he actually had any interest in you or if he just wanted to use you like your brother suggested. However, he’d suggested the date you were about to embark on and even offered to pay, so obviously you weren’t prepared to decline free ice cream.

Through your mirror, you could see that the clock behind you read 4:46 pm, 14 minutes away from the time that Tom had arranged to pick you up. You stood up and smoothed down your silk lilac dress, before grabbing your white knitted cardigan and heading out of your bedroom and downstairs. After putting on your shoes and packing all the essentials into your handbag you began to pace around your small kitchen, checking the turquoise clock on the wall feverishly.

Finally, the clock struck 5 o’clock and only seconds later there was a sharp knock at your door. You rushed towards the sound and opened the door.

There he was. Possibly the most beautiful you’d ever seen a man.

His blond hair seemed to glow in the evening sun and his tanned face highlighted his beautiful eyes. He was wearing an expensive-looking black shirt paired with a pair of trousers in the same shade. Simple, but gorgeous.

In his right hand, he held a bouquet of pink and white tulips. “Hello Y/n Bradshaw” he said, visibly checking you out.

“Hey Tommy, how are you?” You asked, as he leaned in to kiss you on your cheek.

“I’m great now I’ve see you, baby,” he smirked, holding the beautiful bouquet out in front of you “ I got these beauties for you.”

Gasping, you took the bouquet into your hands, taking in their sweet scent.

“Thank you so much Tom, there gorgeous.” You giggled slightly, hearing your brother calling you a love sick puppy in your mind. “Come in a minute while I put these in a jar.”

He followed your command like a dog, staying close behind as you retreated into the kitchen. He watched you closely as you placed the delicate flowers into a painted pottery vase. It didn’t take you long, and soon you were walking along the pavement with your arm looped around his, headed in the direction of ‘Papa’s Polar Scoops’ ice cream parlour.

As you strolled alongside the road, Ice observed as your smiling visage was illuminated by the bright summer sun.

“What are you looking at Mr Kazansky?” You asked, catching him in the act.

“Oh nothing, just this gorgeous girl I’m with,”

How was he so good at making you blush bright red and giggle like a teenager?

Eventually you arrived at the parlour, where you picked a secluded booth for you to flirt in uninterrupted whilst Tom Bought your favourite ice cream.

After five minutes, the Iceman himself was sat before you as you enjoyed the first spoonfuls of ice cream in appreciative silence. It was the height of summer and the heat was unbearable, this date was the perfect remedy.

It was Tom who broke the silence, asking you “What on earth would Goose think if only he knew I was on a date with his beloved little sister?”

“Oh he’d be so mad at me,” you were telling the truth, “I swore an oath that I would never date a pilot, but I think this is worth his anger,” you explained.

“Y/n Bradshaw, you flirt,” Tom feigned being flustered, sending you both into a spiral of uncontrollable laughter.

“I never thought a date with Tom Kazansky would go like this,” you admitted to him, quieter than your previous words.

“Oh really? Explain,”

“Well I’ve always been under the impression that you were some arrogant playboy, until recently that is, but I’m starting to think that maybe The Iceman isn’t as cold as he pretends to be,” you told him

Clasped his hands around your own, “well maybe that’s how I was once, but I really like you Y/n and I don’t want you to get a false impression of me,”

He looked down at you, smouldering slightly and the butterflies in your stomach turned to elephants rampaging around.

“Is there something on my face?” Tom asks you after a while

This causes you to break out of your stare, and you begin to search his face to find what he was referring to- there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“No, nothing unusual,” you assure him.

“Oh, well you’d been staring at me for a good while and I was wondering if something was wrong,” he playfully told you.

At this moment you knew a bright red blush had spread across your face, as you could feel the insane embarrassment burning your insides.

You struggled to find your words for a moment, but after a while you pushed them out: “oh! No I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re so gorgeous Tom, like extremely handsome, it’s quite hard not to stare actually,”

Now it was his turn to blush. Unintentional payback.

“Well thank you m’lady, it’s appreciated,” he joked as you both finished your ices cream.

However, you noticed a small amount of melted cream in the side of your sundae glass and scooped it out on your finger before quickly smearing it across Tom’s cheek.

After a short moment, he registered the ice cold sensation on his left cheek and pulled an over dramatic shocked face, forcing the two of you to once again break down into a fit of laughter.

“Wow. Thank you so much babe, does it bring out the colour of my eyes?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes at you and rising out of his seat of the booth.

“Oh it so does,” you laughed, joining him standing up’ and then proceeding to reach up and lick the small patch of ice cream off of his cheek.

For this, you received a smirk and a peck on the cheek, dangerously close to the mouth, before you were dragged out of the Parlour and back into the sun.

About halfway through the slow walk back to your house, your feet began to sting causing you to limp slightly.

You tried and failed to hide this from Ice, and pretty promptly he was asking if you were ok.

“Yeah I’m fine, my feet are killing me though,” you told him, not wanting to lie to him.

“Oh well in that case I’ll have to give you a piggyback ride so you don’t feel it,” he informed you.

“Ice what the fuck, I’m not gonna make you do that,” you laughed at the ridiculousness of his statement.

“No you’re not going to make me, I’m volunteering,” he told you, crouching down, giving you access to climb on his back.

You sighed, deciding to trust his Navy pilot strength and climb oh his back, resting your chin in the groove of his broad shoulder.

“Put me down if I get too heavy,”

“Never,”

Ten minutes later, you had arrived at your front door, and you gracefully climbed down from your seat on Ice’s back.

After unlocking your front door, you turned to Tom and hugged him.

“I had an amazing night, Tommy, please say we’ll do this again sometime” you asked, resting your head on him.

“Of course we will, as soon as possible,” he told you, holding you at arms length now, so he could look at your face properly, “in fact, I’ll take you to breakfast at 8:30 tomorrow morning if you want.”

Your smile grew infinitely wide “I would love that, Thomas Kazansky”

“Well then Y/n Bradshaw, you better get inside so you can call up all your friends about this new version of Iceman you’ve discovered” he instructed you.

“Nah,” this reply caused Tom to raise an eyebrow, so you grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face near your own and telling him:

“I wanna keep him all to my self”

Before diving into a passionate kiss.

~Fin~

Part 2 up now

#top gun x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #iceman #iceman x reader #val kilmer #nick bradshaw

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paisholotus · 1 year

Text

What You Heard?

Shuri x black fem reader

Summary: You and Shuri get into an argument, and you end up breaking up with her, including your engagement. She finds you at the club with your friends, but sees you alone being man handled.

Warnings: Strong Language, Possessive Shuri

Requested By: Anonymous

Translations: Sthandwa( My love) Intombazana yomntwana ( Baby Girl) Umfazi wam ( My Wife)

A/N: inspired by the song what you heard by Brent Faiyaz

Y/N Pov

"EACH AND EVERY TIME YOU DO THIS SHIT! I try to schedule time for us, but you always change your plans to go to THAT FUCKING LAB YOU'RE ALWAYS IN!" I yelled at Shuri in a rage, my eyes burning from tears.

Shuri glared at me angrily as she slammed her glasses to the ground and wiped her face. "Y/N! I AM QUEEN OF THE MOST POWERFUL NATION! OKAY? I HAVE OTHER SHIT TO CONSIDER. YOU ARE NOT FIRST PRIORITY! PUSH THAT RIGHT THRU YOUR SKULL!" She shouted in my face.

I took a step back, allowing the pain of her words to wash over me. I wiped my cheeks angrily, snatching off my kimoyo beads, breaking them. I smirked at her and nodded. "Ight, I bet you won't have to worry about me, no time soon."

I took one last look at her and walked out her lab, and her life.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

It's been eight months...

I haven't spoken to or seen Shuri, and I didn't really have any plans to. The three years we've spent together have been a complete waste of time. And she didn't even try to communicate with me; she just threw herself into that cold lab.

Given that I am aware of her ongoing grief over the loss of her mother and brother, I understood the strain of being Queen. But I made an effort to talk to her and try to console her. But she only seemed to get angrier and shorter with me. And I was FULLY aware that her country comes first, but DAMMNIT!, I WAS YOUR FIANCE! And for her to simply say what she said, made me feel as though I didn't matter.

In order to avoid ruining my makeup, I quickly dried my eyes before turning to look at the ring on my dresser.

I moved back to America. Got my own apartment, a new job, and I changed my number just to be sure Shuri couldn't contact me.

Tonight I was going out with my friends, and i just put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup.

My phone starts to ring with the same unknown number that's been calling all day, so I decided to answer it.

“hello” I said, answering the call. As i propped my phone up on my dresser. “long time no see, Sthandwa.” the person said, making my whole body freeze. I sat my pallet down, and it was no other than, Shuri. “how did you get this number?” i said. Applying highlighter to my cheeks, the bright gold shade matching my dress.

“Do you honestly think, I didn’t know where you were? You're my WIFE” she said. Bringing a glass to her lips, that had dark brown liquor in it. “where you going?” she asked me. I scrunched up my face and gave her a unbothered look. “Out” I responded plainly as i picked up my earrings. “out where?” she asked again with more authority in her voice. Any other time that would have turned me on, but I was determined to not let her get to me.

“first of all who are you talking to like that? And why you worried about where I'm going? I ain't first priority remember? Fuck You calling me for? You ain't my parent!” i yelled at her, rolling my eyes. Shuri was quiet for a few seconds, as she looked at me. I stared back into her eyes through the camera, and she tilted her head to the side and smirked. “you look beautiful ” she said as she licked her lips. I huffed and mumbled an "thank you" as I went to go look for my shoes.

"So you're not going to answer my question, Intombazana yomntwana?" I looked at her with irration and smirked. Slowly walking towards the phone putting extra sway in my hips, and bended down. "Nope. But I'm sure imma have somebody entertaining me tonight. You just worry about that it's not gonna be you." I said, ending the call before she could say anything else.

I walked downstairs grabbing my keys and walked out the door, to meet my friends.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Shuri's Pov

I see, she thinks she's funny. I thanked Okoye before getting into the car. Now, I gave us some distance for more than 8 months and allowed her to believe that she could easily elude me.

And now she believes that she can simply go out with her 'friends' and have both women and men touch what is mine? Oh, I fucking don't think so.

So when I get to this club and finally bring her home, she better act like she already know what it is. She think she finna give up my pussy and she not. She think she's done with me and she's not. If she thinks we're over, WE'RE NOT! SHE MY WIFE.

I brought the brown liquor to my lips and took a squig out of it.

Fuck your mind up, waste time

I'm prone to that, do it all the time

Keep your guard up or wait in line

You don't need me, please believe me

This ain't easy, you know I've been feindin'

Let me unleash my demons on you

I know that I neglected her and screwed up. But when we went our separate ways, I worked towards keeping my temper in check and also used that time to grieve my loss properly.

What's the word? Tell me what you've heard

Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts

I would hear whispers and talk about how cold I became towards her. I didn't want to be that way, anymore. So I focused and meditated and tried to find peace within myself. But now I was ready for Umfazi wam to come home.

I walked in the club pushing sweaty bodies out of my way, looking for Y/N. Okoye was ordered to remain outside because I didn't need her assistance.

I combed through the crowd looking for her, but the loud, awful music made it difficult for me to even hear myself think. Then I noticed her dancing on an unsightly man on the balcony.

As I walked over to her, shoving more people out my way, my jaw clenched. But I stopped when I saw that she was attempting to push him away and that he was acting roughly towards her, grabbing her throat.

When I get you to myself, it's murder

In seconds I grabbed the bastard and pushed him up against the wall. Y/N rushed over to me, pleading with me not to kill this man.

I looked at him menacingly, seeing fear in his eyes and seeing him shake visibly. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "If I EVER see you lay your DISGUSTING ASS HANDS ON MY WIFE AGAIN, IT'LL BE THE LAST DAY YOU BREATH AIR THROUGH YOUR PATHETIC LUNGS!" And returned his gaze, "Do I make myself clear?" I asked him, dangerously low.

He nodded quickly and I let go of him, watching him scurry away.

What the fuck you call this? Hopeless, not romantic

I ain't got no kids, so don't be so childish

You be wildin', I be wildin', too

But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you

Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too

I turned to Y/N, and she tried to run, but I grabbed the back of his dress and yanked her around to face me, clutching her jaw. “if you ever do something so stupid like you did tonight again, you’re gonna be in a world of fucking trouble” I said. She nodded rapidly, in hopes that i would release her. "Now we going back to that apartment to grab your stuff, then we going back to Wakanda. Do I make myself clear?" She eagerly nodded, and I leaned down kissing her forehead, and grabbed her hand.

"Wait what about my friends?" She asked me. "I'll send Ayo to come get them." I told her.

Okoye opened the car door for us, and I drew YN onto my lap and kissed her on the neck, then kissed her lips. moaning filled the car as she started to grind on my leg, I let her move at her own pace. Letting her push me backwards into the car seat.

You ain't gotta worry

Bout a thing, bout a thing

You ain't gotta worry

Bout a thing, bout a thing

I pulled away from her and looked her in the eyes. "Sthandwa, please accept my apologies. I know I messed up and hurt you, but I'm willing to go to any length to reclaim your love and trust. Let me try for you. Let me try for us."

"You going to let me try for us, baby?" She nodded and gave a small smile. I pressed my forehead against hers and brushed my lips against hers. “i love you ma”

#black reader #black writers #black representation #black tumblr #self post #tumblelog #black girls #shuri #shuri x black!reader #black panther #letitia wright

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westcoastcreative · 1 year

Text

So F***in Sweet

Manny finally arrives to make good on his post-work plans with his wife — but she’s got a little teasing to do first.

(Part 1 of this: Yoga and Coffee on a Quiet Morning w/ Manny • Part 2 of this: On His Way)

Manny got home about 11:30, stepping quietly through the house to ensure Bella stayed asleep for them.

The light glowing onto the wood-floored hallway beneath the door of he and his wife’s bedroom and hint of marijuana smoke he smelled as he approached made his lips curl up in anticipation of the scene that awaited him on the other side.

He slowly shrugged his kutte off, folding and draping it over his forearm before reaching for the doorknob.

The slightest peek at his perfect front teeth couldn’t help but reveal itself when he caught sight of her.

A mint blue silk robe covered her arms and torso, one of his bongs nestled between her strong bare thighs. Her big mane of curls was freshly coiffed, still lightly streaked with subtle summer highlights though it was now deep into fall. Her brows were brushed up bushily, face clean of makeup and dewy from recently moisturizing.

He loved her like this and she knew it.

“Oh you think you funny, huh?” Manny’s strong voice stayed soft.

His wife tried not to smile the same way he was, pushing the joy that teasing her stoic biker husband brought her into a pinched sideways smirk as he stalked closer, setting his kutte down at the foot of the bed.

“You want one?” she lifted up the pipe, keeping her bright eyes on the surprisedly thrown off expression in his own dark, gorgeously set pair.

He ignored the invitation, coming to stand right in front of where she was seated on the bed. His jaw clenched before a low utterance gritted from between his mustached lips.

“I know I told you to be naked.”

His wife glanced up in wide-eyed apology, placing her lips around the bong, lighting it and sucking in the hit she’d set up as she continued to coyly feign a plea of forgiveness. Manny watched her blow the smoke to the side before setting the pipe on her nightstand and raising up on her knees to place her hands on his shoulders.

“I know you did. But I needed a bath after your call got me turned on and then I got myself a little… sticky.”

Manny couldn’t help but offer a bit more generous smile at that. “Mmm…” he nodded once.

His wife ran her fingers down the edge of the robe, opening it slightly when she reached her breast so Manny could see what she’d layered underneath it: a one-piece lace teddy in the same light greenish-blue shade.

“This was hanging in the closet waiting to be put on for this first time and I couldn’t resist,” she said, her lips inches from his, eyes maintaining her innocence.

“Right…” Manny brought a hand up to swipe two fingers inside one of the cups of the lingerie’s bra. “And it had to be a color that makes your skin glow like this, didn’t it?”

His wife giggled playfully in response, her chin lifting slightly and eyes squinting victoriously at how easily she could get him to soften.

Manny didn’t let her gloat for long, ripping the robe down off of her shoulders and inhaling her flowery scent as her small frame shook closer to him with the force of his movement.

“You always gotta look so fuckin sweet,” he growled against her lips.

She drew her hands up his neck and scratched into the short hair at the back of his head, humming softly. She could feel his tempered frustration pulsing just below the surface.

Manny inhaled steadily — bracing them both for what was about to follow — as his fingertips circled the apple of one of her naturally rose-blushed cheeks. The look in his eyes turned from patient to commanding.

“Now, this is the last time I’m gonna tell you, amorcita…”

His touch ran slowly from her face down her chest and stomach, stopping at her lace-covered slit. With a slightly vengeful pursing of his lips, he pulled his hand back to slap directly against her clit.

“Quitatela para papi.”

#manny mayans fanfic #mayans manny #Mayans #mayans mc #manny mayans x wife #manny mayans x you #manny montana #manny mayans x ofc #manny mayans x reader #manny montana fanfic #manny mayans imagine #manny montana imagine #manny mayans smut #manny mayans

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nimnomdimsum · 7 months

Text

Group project

It was a mistake

You knew you shouldn’t have tried something new. Shouldn’t have gotten out of your comfort zone, it never leads to anything good.

You were practically running down the stairs, trying to escape whatever the fuck that club was. Why’d you have to be curious about VAMPIRES out of all things? Why not butterflies, or flowers? No. It had to be blood sucking vampires and u had to join a club with a bunch of fanatics who won’t stfu and are too graphic about how to kill a vampire. Especially that blondey monoma , Fucking creep. He made u so uncomfortable that u just ran out the minute he started talking. The details made queasy and light headed. You felt as if you lungs were gonna pop you were breathing so hard, when you got out of the club and onto campus, you realise your frantic breathing wouldn’t stop, tears were running down your face, everything was spinning and you were scared.

What was happening? Why does it hurt so much? Why can’t you breathe??Are you having a panic attack right now?

These questions didn’t help you calm down and you felt as if you were gonna pass out so you found a nearby bench to sit on and closed your eyes, trying to get your breathing to settle. Not a minute later u hear a very tired but worried voice say, “Hey…are you ok?”

You look up to see droopy half lidded purple eyes with eye bags that can rival a science major. His indigo hair was unruly and you recognised it somwhere…

“Hey! Can you hear me, are you ok?” Repeated the purple haired boy. You finally focused on him and shook your head. He came closer and put a hand on your shoulder, crouched down and looked into your eyes, “ Answer me with your words this time. Are you ok?”

Struggling to even move you push the word no out in a desperate and clumsy manner.

“Calm down and breathe slowly “

Suddenly, it all stopped, your breathing slowed and the tears stopped, you were fine but it felt strange, like someone pressed the off button and you were kinda sleepy. “You feeling better?”

The boy was staring at u the whole time, he looked slightly relieved.

“Yeah I’m ok thanks, how’d you do that?”

His eyes widened and a slight smirk broke his neutral expression “I didn’t think you’d notice. It’s my quirk, brainwash” he said offering you a hand. You took it, tucking That new information somewhere in ur brain. When you got up u nearly hit the floor again your legs were so wobbly

“Hey be careful! My quirk doesn’t deal with the aftermath”, the purple crayon said(I got tired) while grabbing your elbow and hip to steady you.You guys were standing fairly close in this position and it gave you time to figure out where U know him from. U also took this time to take in all the features u missed. He had dimple when he smiled and unusually sharp canines, his hair was indigo yes but there was a few different shades of purple In his hair aswell, small segments of lavender and violet making beautiful patterns of highlights. His eyes were quite unique as well, while purple wasn’t an unusual colour these days due to quirks, his had a thin sheen of red and his pupils were thinned out, like an angry cat. By the time he started getting uncomfortable with u staring it clicked.

“Allcock”, U blurted out.

His whole face went through 4 different emotions but he soon had a neutral expression with an eyebrow raised.

“What did u just say?” He asked with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

Blushing, realising what u just said, you give him a sheepish smile, “professor allcock, we take the same philosophy class.”

“Oh”

“Yeah I recognised u by ur hair, I actually didn’t know u had a Face”

His eyes widened and he tipped his head back in laughter.

“Really?I didn’t realise. I normally just record what the prof is saying on my computer. Speaking of class, what are you doing here? Class is in”-he checks his watch-“4 hours.”

You stand there in silence, mulling over whether U should tell him or not you should tell him the truth. You close your eyes and decide to come clean, “I’ve recently been interested in vampires and there’s a club on campus that specialises in vampires so I wanted to check it out but they were way too graphic and made me very uncomfortable so I ran out and then I-“

“Hey, hey, breath ok? We don’t want another panic attack on our hands do we?” He says with a reassuring yet playful smile.

You nod embarrassed, trying to catch your breathe.

After your breathing is normal you realise it’s gotten a silent. Awkward silent. While u were looking for ways to fix it, he beat u too it, breaking the silence with, “Tell you what, If u be my partner for the next philosophy project, I’ll tell u what you need to know about vampires.”

You look at him suspiciously, “what do you know about vampires?”

He looks around him to see if there was anyone around before smirking and coming closer to your face.

He bends down a little and opens his mouth, u stare in confusion then amazement as he makes his canines sharper and hollow. You look at his eyes and that red sheen starts glowing brighter and brighter until his irises are no longer seen. Your eyes go wide and u gasp, “You’re a-a-!”He quickly puts his hand over your mouth before bringing a finger to his grinning one with a wink.

“So how about it huh? Do we have a deal?”

Still in shock you nod your head yes. He smiles wider before asking you for your phone, you absentmindedly take it out and unlock it for him. As he taps away you can’t but feel like your dreaming.

He’s a vampire, I love vampires! They’re so cool. Oh my god, I’m gonna do my project with a real life vamp-

A notification from his phone interrupts your thoughts and he hands your phone back to you

“There. See u in class!” He says with a wave and turns around, walking away.

You wave back before looking down at your phone and rolling your eyes at what he saves himself as:

‘Cool vampire dude’

You assumed the notification from his phone was a text he sent himself so you checked, you were right but this time the message made you smile fondly;

‘💜💜💜’

Im taking so long to write pt 4 of the Megumi ff so have this shitty shinso ff I wrote in April😋

#shinsou x reader #college au #vampire shinso #panic attack #group project #cliche?#quirks #mha #my hero academy fanfiction #bha #boku no hero acedamia #shinso #he’s always sleeping #shitpost #quick read

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slippinmickeys · 1 year

Text

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (19/?)

When Mulder woke, he felt a distinct sense of something missing, like a twinge on a phantom limb. He half-rolled over on his cot and pressed his nose into the side of his pillow which still carried the scent of Scully. He huffed deeply and felt a surge of dopamine hit his bloodstream.

With a quick glance at his clock, he saw that it was morning, but still fairly early, and remembered that all of the shield crew didn’t have to leave their racks until almost midday, but he rolled over and sat up anyway, wiping a hand across tired eyes. He would rather be tired and spend time with Scully than sleep – an odd sensation for a guy who could nap with the best of them.

He’d always known how it would go, when and if he and Scully got together — he was under no misapprehension. Like an itch that was under the skin, they wouldn’t be able to get enough of each other, they wouldn’t want to be apart. The thing about being one of the first Mars colonists though – they would have to be. For various missions and even just day-to-day tasks, they would be separated by rooms, miles, even sols. It was going to hurt. But the coming back together: meals grabbed in the mess, the occasional duty they were both assigned, and, he now knew from experience – stolen nights together in one or the other’s quarters – would be sweeter than a gulp of mountain air after a fresh rain. And being that they’d been breathing nothing but canned and scrubbed air for the better part of the last year – Mulder knew from sweet.

He took a quick shower in the lav and hustled to the medical bay, trying to appear as though he weren’t rushing when every cell of his body was telling him to go faster. When she met his eyes from the doorway with the brightest of smiles, he could have floated to her side on pure exhilaration.

“Morning,” he said, smiling back, feeling ever-so-slightly shy and dopey.

“Hey,” she said, and looked down at the floor briefly, clearly feeling the same way. She was hunched over shipping kits made of plastic and metal. Mulder noticed that there were five or six similar containers on the exam table, which she glanced at briefly as she rose to stand. “Didn’t think I’d see you for at least a few more hours.”

“I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” he asked, suddenly just a tiny bit unsure.

“No!” she said quickly, and then blushed. Another surge of dopamine hit Mulder’s bloodstream. “No,” she said again, regaining a little composure. “I just know the commander didn’t put a wake-up order on you guys this morning and I thought you might sleep in.”

“I’d rather be here,” he said, taking a step into the room.

She was wearing a white jumpsuit today, which made her look particularly trim and highlighted the bright shade of her hair. She seemed to get more beautiful by the sol. By the hour. By the minute.

“I’m going to put you to work,” she said, friendly but haughty, thrusting her chin out. “We have to go over all the base medications – which is going to feel like your worst class in graduate school, I might point out – and I still haven’t put away the supplies that got tossed when Robo-2 failed.”

Mulder raised his brows. “Will I be working closely with you while engaged in all this sadistic labor?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Then don’t threaten me with a good time, Scully.”

She smiled.

They began by going over the meds, which was just as tedious and awful as she warned him it would be. He ended up having to get a pad of paper and take notes while Scully gave him a comprehensive run-down of everything they had on base. Considering NASA had tried to cover just about every medical eventuality, it took quite a bit of time.

“The computer will help you with diagnoses if you need to run something quickly,” she said, “and the Flight Surgeon at Mission Control can handle anything that’s not acute.” He knew all of this, of course, and had studied it all while en route on board the Larunda, but it was good to see where it all was being stored, and to get a better feel for the medical bay.

Scully stood. “That’s it on compulsory duty,” she said. “Feel free to head back and try to get a little more sleep, Mulder. I know you must be exhausted.”

He fought the urge to yawn, but stood and stretched.

“I was adequately put through my paces last night, I admit,” he said, even though he knew she was talking about the fatigue he was experiencing due to the rigors of the magnetic shield mission. He stepped into her space, forcing her to look up at him, which she did with a sly smile.

“ Adequately ?” she intoned, teasing him.

“More than adequate,” he said. “Scully,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned down even more, until their noses were almost touching. “Last night was… out of this world.”

She threw back her head and let rip an undignified guffaw which energized him more than any sleep ever could.

“Come on,” he said, still smiling and moving over to the payload cases that she’d stacked on the exam table, the edges on some stained a rusty orange from where they’d sat in the powdery regolith. “Let me help you with these.”

She grinned and moved over with him, and they began to check the structure of each container before opening it and cataloguing what was inside, after which they unpacked each one, filling the medical bay with the rest of its complement of supplies. When they were on the second to last kit, Mulder turned it from where it sat on the metal gurney.

“Structure seems fine,” he reported to Scully, who had a laptop open on the other end of the tabletop with the inventory list open. “But one of the latches is damaged,” he said, fingering the loose metal clasp.

“Is the other latch intact?” she asked, looking up from her computer.

“Seems to be,” he said.

Scully pursed her lips. “Let’s check for regolith particles on the interior. See if the seal was compromised.”

Mulder nodded and opened the other latch, swinging open the container, which was shaped like an oversized briefcase. Scully handed him a magnifying glass, which she seemed to have conjured out of thin air. From where he stood, there didn’t appear to be any Martian dust on or near the edge closest to the compromised latch, which he reported to Scully before taking a closer look with the magnifying glass.

“Seal does not appear to have been compromised,” he said, straightening back up and handing the tool back to Scully.

She nodded, made a note on her laptop and turned to him.

“Contents?” she said.

He picked up the small bottles one at a time and read off the contents. “Pills, looks like,” he said. “We’ve got uh… ibuprofen,” he set that bottle aside and picked up the next one. “And…” he squinted at the printing on the bottle. Though they’d gone over nearly all the medications in the clinic, this wasn’t one he was familiar with. “I don’t know this one. Dimeth…” he started.

Scully looked up from her computer with a grin, as though she was trying not to laugh. “Dimethandrolone undecanoate?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, relieved not to have had to wrap his tongue around that particular mouthful. “What’s so funny?”

“Don’t you look at the bottles that you have to open every morning and take with breakfast?” she asked him.

“This is a vitamin?” he asked, squinting once again at the bottle. There were a whole host of supplements they needed to take because they weren’t ingesting or exposed to them on this alien planet, as well as other compounds that the doctors wanted them to take to fight the effects of low or no gravity – substances to help preserve bone strength, eye function, muscle repair and growth. Each morning as they sat down to eat, they ingested a veritable candy dish worth of pharmaceuticals. He glanced up to find her smiling at him.

“It’s your birth control, Mulder,” she said with a smirk.

He gave her a look and she leaned over and picked up another bottle. “And mine,” she went on. “I think this contains the whole reproductive health suite.”

“Well,” said Mulder, hoping to regain some of his dignity, and perhaps the conversational upper hand, “I hope to put it to good and frequent use.”

“Count on it, flyboy,” she said.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #wip #mars au #it’s not my best #but it’s been sitting in Google docs for six weeks #time to jettison

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theevangelion · 2 years

Photo

Soulmates: Chapter II

Perhaps the only office skyline view better than Cat Grant’s own, Kara thought. The new chief found herself running late, some meeting or another had carried over, which left Kara confused because it was seven in the morning and nobody in a civilised society should be working or taking meetings before eight.

Kara felt those kinds of early starts were a way of life better left back home.

Still, it didn’t stop her getting out of bed soon after reading the email. She wasn’t sure why she put an extra hour into her routine, but she curled her blonde hair a certain way, put a little extra blush and highlight on her cheeks, made herself fresh and found herself appreciating the city with a bounce in her step, despite the lack of sleep, because things seemed different this early in the morning.

There was a delight to be found in the quietness of the world. The air was freezing cold, refreshing, had the blood pumping quick and the coffee in her hand feeling like good value for money this morning. The train carriage had been empty, that kind of empty that people spoke about sometimes, but Kara had never seen before today, where the chugging express train sped along the bridge in quiet jolts, the water from the river beneath still ripples of inky black bouncing bright city light, with only the darkest shade of purple on the horizon indicating the new day.

Kara ate a croissant and found herself with space in her thoughts beyond maintaining the appearance of her life. She tempted her hand into her purse when she switched trains, half-considering a photograph to capture the rarity of an empty, desolate city subway platform. She didn’t. Strangely, she left it alone and just enjoyed the moment, the quiet, as though she were the only person awake and there was something pleasant in the fact.

“It’s something, isn’t it?”

Kara heard the distinct thud of a cleaning cart hitting the door.

“It’s sad,” Kara murmured, still in her own thoughts. “Three months here and I haven’t seen a single, actual sunrise. I figured it was because the city was dense, that maybe the smog sat a little heavier in the morning but, turns out, if you’re one of the chosen few up in the clouds on the lower side? Sunrises are just another Wednesday.”

“You’re definitely new in the city. If you go to Southview Hill Park, weekday mornings, not only will you get a quaint walk through the third most-charming public garden in the city, but you will also find your perfect viewing spot to see the sun come up across the river.”

Kara froze.

“You are not the cleaning lady.” She tempered an embarrassed, mortified laugh as she turned around. “I’m. I’m so sorry if that, you know, sounded kind of arrogant?”

“No, to both. I’m not the cleaning lady and you didn’t sound arrogant.” The woman shook her head and stifled a smirk. “I thought you might like some breakfast, something to drink at the very least. My assistant doesn’t get here until nine so I took a walk to see what I could find. Do you like cereal?” She lifted her emerald eyes curiously. “I must warn you that milk could not be procured so the cereal will be served tartare, right from the box.” She lifted the cornflakes and shook a few into her palm.

For a woman who had been awake for perhaps just as long as Kara, if not longer, Lena Luthor looked immaculate in the most understated way as if these insane early starts were just part and parcel of things.

Miss Luthor didn’t look like the most important woman in the city and yet, there she was, most certainly not the cleaning lady. It was that dressed up, dressed down thing all tech entrepreneurs pulled off effortlessly. The kind you could be sat next to, at the bagel place, and assume they were just another intern trying to get a grasp on life, young, figuring it all out, not a billionaire mogul wearing a grey cashmere sweater, black slacks, no Rolex, just a pair of regular beaten-up sneakers.

“I’m usually used to reporters asking most of the questions,” Miss Luthor spoke again with a strange smile. “Or, you know, talking.” Her lips wobbled with amusement.

“I’m. I’m so sorry, I was still mentally replaying the last five minutes. You know, that unfortunate part where I assumed you were the cleaning lady, kind of trying to figure out how I would attempt to explain it to Cat right before she fires me.” Kara fiddled with her glasses and felt better for earning a real laugh this time.

“Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t be so sure about Cat either, I had the distinct pleasure of interning for her when I finished college—”

“You?” Kara balked.

“Oh yes.” Miss Luthor nodded at the surprise, craning down to pour hot coffee into two waiting mugs. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, just that I didn’t want that thing to be…too Luthor-ish. Anyway, Cat can be brash but she has a keen eye for fostering talent. If she didn’t see something in you then she wouldn’t have sent you.” She offered hot coffee.

“They gave me pre-written questions.” Kara quirked the corner of her mouth and lifted the printed sheets. “Thanks for the coffee, Miss Luthor.”

“Thanks for making time to accommodate me so early this morning. Please, just call me Lena.” She waved it off and unlaced her sneakers, placing them on the shoe rack in exchange for the Louboutins, footing around her desk to the big seat. “What was your name again?”

“Kara.” Lena’s eyes went a little wide at that. “Kara Danvers, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself—”

“No, no.” Lena blinked and smiled. “I know you. I think. Well, it would perhaps be more apropos to say that I know of you, that’s assuming you’re Kara Danvers, James Olsen’s friend from back home?” She clarified.

“I am that Kara Danvers,” Kara laughed and felt more at ease. “Is it weird to say I’m a little surprised James Olsen has billionaire chief exec friends he failed to mention? He texts me screenshots at two in the morning if any of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills retweet him.” Kara knew she was saying too much and yet it felt so easy.

“And would you not if Lisa Vanderpump acknowledged your existence?” Lena furrowed her brow as she sipped her coffee. “James is—or was—a family friend. It’s a little more complicated now, but our Words With Friends game is still going strong all these years later, so I assume we’re on warm terms…”

“That depends whether he’s beating you.” Kara wiggled her eyebrows and sat down.

“I let him win, once in a while, just to keep it fun.” Lena tilted her expression and sipped her coffee. “It’s not healthy to operate in absolutes, you have to lose some in order to enjoy winning some.”

“That somehow sounds humble and a little arrogant all at once,” Kara grinned and glanced down to the questions that she hadn’t thought to pre-check, which swiftly took the smile off her face. “Miss Luthor—”

“Lena.”

“Lena,” Kara corrected herself. “Can I just pre-start by saying that I am so sorry. Really, I am so sorry, and I did not write these questions. Could we start there—that I’m sorry?”

“Goodness.” Lena’s eyes went wide, the whites growing bright, then she twisted her ponytail into a loose bun. “That means they’re tough ones. Maybe you’re right, maybe Cat does hate you.” She joked. “We better get started…”

Kara felt her forehead break with dampness.

“Shortly after your wife’s passing you withdrew from public life completely. The last impression you left in the public’s perception was described, by your worst critics, as the undoing of one of the most brilliant minds of a generation into the impulsive, erraticism and paranoia that, many now feel, aptly describes your brother’s downfall into madness.”

The air had shifted before the first sentence finished. Kara felt it, as though a stiffness had come over the room, and she had remembered quite suddenly why it was she hated silence, and that was perhaps the only reason she kept reading aloud.

The pause hung for just a moment too long. “Was there a question on the end of that summary address?” Lena cleared her throat.

Kara clenched her eyes and didn’t want to say it.

“What separates you from Lex Luthor? Why should the public, and the many forgotten who invested their life savings in LexCorp’s over-valued IPO before last year’s seventy-percent tank in stock value, trust you to steer the ship and not—” Kara stopped and clenched her teeth with embarrassment. “Not jump off into the deep end again?”

The silence was deafening.

Kara didn’t dare look her in the eyes.

“And that’s the interview over and finished with.” Lena stood from her chair and kept her expression tight, manacled, and dour. “Please let Catherine know I’ll have relations send her a statement before noon today.”

“Lena I’m so sorry—”

“Miss Luthor.” She forced the coolest of smiles. “I’m afraid I…have to be somewhere. If you’ll excuse me, Miss Danvers.”

“Of course.” Kara nodded and gathered her things, mortified and ashamed. “Erm, Miss Luthor, if I may before I leave?”

“Yeah?”

“My condolences. I…” Kara stopped, she felt flustered, but most of all she felt as though she would regret it later if she didn’t say it. “I didn’t know—about your wife—I’m sorry for your loss. But, from someone who truly had no idea who you were prior to two o’clock this morning, I don’t think any amount of time you took to grieve was anything less than the exact reason you might be the most qualified person for this role, in this exact moment, given everything that happened with Lex, because the public down there needs to feel like the people up here, in the clouds and ivory towers, are human too.”

Kara didn’t hang around and wait for a response, she felt there had been enough imposition and rudeness for one day. She left quickly and quietly, absolutely seething that she had been placed in the position, that Lena had been placed in the position, and most of all that she was, most definitely, about to be fired for not getting a scoop.

FIND FIFTEEN CHAPTERS OF THIS, ALONG WITH ALL COMPLETE 59 CHAPTERS OF THE TYING OF HANDS, AND ALPHA SUB UPDATES, AND MY BDSM PHOTOS/CONTENT, VIA AQUI.

#Supercorp #soulmates #soulmates au #lena x kara #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #cat grant

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hazeldough · 11 months

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How did you get Haruka’s idol outfit to shine Like That? I can almost feel it under my fingertips and hear the rustling. I know you posted that a long time ago (in Internet time) but its stayed with me.

It was with the love I hold for my beloved daughter 💖

But hee hee some notes on the illust :^) I may have over explained it lol

My main source of reference was from this collection of photographs by kemmiethecat on instagram!

I wanted this dress to be reminiscent of her outfit for So Much More and I combined it with 80s (?) aesthetics to match the aesthetic of film photography. I used the photographs to get an idea of how the sleeves, bodice, and gloves would fit on her. Even though her gown would be white, I wanted to add interest to it and I figured the best way to color and shade it while retaining the look of a white wedding gown was to make the fabric look iridescent/pearlescent. I kinda winged it on the color choices and placement, though…

I chose a pink similar to the background (bc I was going for a teen magazine concept as well and the bright pink made her and the gown stand out), a purple-ish blue for the shadows, and some yellows to transition into the bright whites because I thought the combination would work the best. It’s mostly a vibes-based decision for me, but if we wanted to be technical about it, it’s bc of color theory!

I followed how the values of the fabric from the references and lightly mapped out where the colors would be placed, keeping in mind how it’d be affected by what was closest to it. Admittedly, I kinda wanna go back and make the colors more consistent so that fabric-fabric -> blue, skin-fabric-> pink, highlights from the “flash”-> yellows and whites. But it is what it is! After that, I just blended to what suited the fabric while using the references.

I wanted the gloves to stand out since it’s framing Haruka’s face and considering it’s satin, it’d shine and react more with light and color as opposed to her dress, which is more matte. Because of that, the gloves ended up having more shifts in color compared to the dress and the instances of the bright white appearing front and center combined with the highlights of Haruka’s face all harmonized to give off the feeling of each fabric. The same goes with her veil and the ruffles of her dress, where I added some texture to give off the look of netting you’d see in tulle.

Generally, whenever I make illustrations where the outfit is an important aspect of it, I put extra care into how it’s rendered and constructed. Partly because it tends to be the focal point, but also because I liked watching Project Runway and Say Yes To The Dress in the past, so I have some interest in fashion because of that and it reflects in my art from time to time lol.

I also like to add that while I did have references, I didn’t follow each fold precisely. To me, it’s impossible and not worth copying how the fabric creases and folds exactly so long as I get the general flow of it, like where the creases focus on, how it glides, etc. Same with the color! My personal outlook on using references is that it’s a general outline, not a step by step instruction, if that makes any sense, lol!

In short:

References used -> Pose, Outfit, Values, Color Palette (Somewhat), ✨Aesthetic ✨

Vibes of color! (Color theory)

Contrast of different textures of each fabric in the outfit as well as her skin and hair

My interest in fashion makes me wanna make sure to depict fabrics as best as I can, especially when it’s the focus of the illustration.

I use references when I can, but I don’t stress about it being a perfect match, I focus on it being as best it can to me

It’s also a result of me figuring out what I like and wanna do bc sometimes reality doesn’t look as good and we have to take artistic liberty sometimes! There isn’t a fabric that exists like this in the real world, and the closest are iridescent organza or sequins. Usually there’s green present in it, but I didn’t use it here bc I didn’t feel like it since I usually don’t use greens in my art unless I have to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Sorry, lovers of the color green!!)

I hope that helps? I feel like I definitely overexplained some aspects, but teehee idk I just like talking about color even tho I forgor some of the terms for it LMFAOOO I just think colors are pretty, same with clothes, and my beloved daughter, Haruka ^_^💖

#ask and answered #glamorousgamine #i hope this makes sense LOLLLL #the even shorter tl;dr is fashion and colors and drawing haruka make brain go brrrrrr #i hope i was talking about the right illust….lol…. ToT

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angstyaches · 1 year

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Oh, Elliott, what have you done?

Ever since posting the early-days Felix fic which ended with Elliott saying it was time to bring Felix home to meet Ryan and Nancy, I’ve been thinking about how that first meeting would have played out.

CW: vampire whump, angst, compulsion to act submissively.

___

“Elliott, sweetheart! I didn’t know you would be…” The woman froze in the doorway when she saw Felix.

Wow.

She looked like she belonged in a polaroid photo, the kind where the subject was in the process of turning their head and tucking their hair behind their ear, and yet still looked stunning as the camera went off. She was wearing a striped, belted dress that hugged and rolled over the curves of her body. Her skin had a light golden glow. Sunkissed highlights were scattered through her dark-brown hair, which had been secured in a high, tumbling ponytail with a large, purple ribbon. But all of these details were quickly forgotten once you noticed the eyes.

It’d taken Felix weeks to get used to Elliott’s blazing yellow eyes, and if he hadn’t already encountered those, Felix would have been convinced that this woman was wearing coloured contact lenses. Hers were a bright shade of fuchsia – no, they were several shades of fuchsia, all of them mingling and twisting together as she stood. They stirred something in Felix’s heart; he could tell that those eyes and seen things that would drive the average human to the brink of insanity, and yet she looked upon the world with unwavering kindness.

Felix realised, with a start, that she was holding a mixing bowl full of popcorn.

“Ryan?” She plucked a piece out with her fingers and raised it to her lips as she called out. “You may want to come and look at this.”

Another figure stepped through the doorway and into the hall.

Felix felt the sudden, overwhelming desire to fall to his knees.

If the purple-eyed woman looked like she came from a bright, sunny polaroid, this woman looked like she belonged in a black-and-white photo – including the literal black-and-white aspect.

She was slimmer than her partner, her shoulders more angular. Her hair was pure white and cut to shoulder-length. Her outfit consisted of a pair of light grey jeans that were cuffed at the ankles, and a white shirt that fit her so well – without being overly shape-hugging or falling into the category of oversized – that Felix thought it must have been crafted especially for her frame. The only thing she and her partner had in common, aesthetically, was the fact that they were both wearing belts. Otherwise, they looked like they existed in entirely different realities.

Felix shifted forward, unable to put a name to the thing wriggling inside him which made him want to be closer to them… no, not them, her. The white-haired woman. He suddenly cared, deeply and painfully, about the fact that he’d just shown up to see her without fixing himself up first. He had never felt the need to present himself properly, but rejecting that ideal had always felt like a little rebellion, an act of self-expression; now, he just felt scruffy and inadequate and ridiculous.

He began to sag to his knees, only for Elliott to grunt and grab him by the elbow, jerking him upright.

“Oh, Elliott,” the white-haired woman said in a tired voice.

“H-hello,” Felix stammered. He didn’t know what he was doing; he’d told Elliott he would stay quiet while he explained the situation. Maybe he was trying to spare Elliott the hassle. Or maybe he just wanted the white-haired woman’s attention on him, and him alone. “My name is F… Felix –”

The purple-eyed woman chewed her popcorn and reached for her partner’s shoulder, never shifting her gaze from Felix. “Deep breaths, Ryan. Please.”

Felix’s legs were starting to droop again. His vision tunnelled. He intended to crawl towards Ryan as soon as his knees hit the floor. “I just w-want to say I’m honoured to –”

“Stop that,” Elliott growled, wrenching him upright again. “And be quiet. I said I would do the talking, remember?”

Felix nodded, stomach knotting. Gosh, what was wrong with him?

The white-haired woman – Ryan – swept across the glistening white tiles and planted herself so that her face was several inches from Felix’s. That was when he noticed them.

Her eyes.

They were a pale, cloudy shade of yellow, like lemonade. The colour was almost identical to that of the eyes that stared at Felix from the mirror these days. The eyes he’d spent hours thinking were a hideous abomination that only betrayed how weak and sickly he was. But… no, if they were anything like hers...

A wave of emotion tugged at his belly.

Gosh, if she was this handsome and powerful, perhaps he was all of those things, too? After all, he was a part of her! How could he not be? His blood and his bones knew it. Knew her. Loved her. Wanted… needed to be near her.

Felix finally pulled his arm free from Elliott’s grasp. He sagged like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and wrapped his arms around the cuffed bottoms of Ryan’s jeans, burying his face against her knees. He let go of the hugest sob of his life, a sob he hadn’t even noticed he’d had in him. He scrambled in place, as though he could get any closer to her. He squeezed her as though she were falling apart into a hundred pieces and the only way to keep her together was to hold those pieces in place.

“I... I-I missed you, I missed you,” he whimpered, even as his mind screamed at him, you didn’t even know she existed until twenty seconds ago – how could you have missed her?

“Elliott,” Ryan said smoothly, not even flinching at the display happening by her feet. “What on earth have you done?”

#StW Felix #StW Elliott #StW Ryan #StW Nancy #Swallow the World #Swallow the Worldbuilding #vampire whump #vampire OC

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