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saint--claire · 3 months

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When I was a little child, there was a particular library book I checked out week after week, endlessly renewing it as much as I was able. The book, How to Raise and Keep a Dragon by John Topsell was a quasi-nonfiction guide to, as you guessed, rearing different species of dragons. I loved it. Tiny-me had plans.

As an adult, I tried to buy it a few times. No dice. The book was so old that no mainstream bookseller stocked it. Even when I tried niche websites recommended by various booksellers and librarians, I still couldn't find it. It was sadly lost to time, apparently not popular enough to make it into the archives.

But.

My best friend had a copy of that book. We're going to call her G, for several reasons not relevant at the moment. I was discussing my search with G one day, for some reason I can't remember now. She got a funny look on her face, asked me a few questions about the cover, listened to me do a very poor job of explaining with my hands how the hardcover copy had included a real gemstone in the dragon's forehead, and then went off to fish it out of her bookcase.

I was Gobsmacked.

I should not have been, given that the history of shared childhood books between us both would have made a circle with ragged edges, more so than a venn diagram, but I digress. The book came home to live in my house for a few months, and I was delighted by the chance to read it again.

Do people remember those type of books? Dragonology, Egyptology, The Stone Age - a way of introducing children to non fiction. They very earnestly spoke about the responsibilities needed to raise dragons, the practicalities involved. There was a record of registration you could fill out, if you had carefully considered the information to your self and felt you were responsible enough to to go through with adopting a dragon.

I vaguely remember filling out some of the riddle and puzzle questions in the Dragonology books. I would never have written in John Topsell's book, it was a library book.

But.

When I re-read G's copy at home, smiling over the familiar artwork, I was surprised to turn the page and find the painstaking, somewhat-wonky handwriting staring back at at me. Baby G, with her name spelled out in freshly-joined but still-not-quite-got-the-hang-of-this-yet cursive lettering. Baby G had filled the registration out in her best handwriting, in glittery green gel pen to denote the importance of the document. This was compared to the earlier, less important checklists done in plain black ink.

I read the registration certificate. Smiled. Smiled some more at the names listed for G's dragon, her dam, and her sire - Eragon was also a great book. Go off, Christopher Paolini.

Breed; standard Western Dragon. The box 'miniture' was ticked, to show that G's dragon was of the minature specic variety, rather than a full size dragon. This was, as she would later explain to me, chosen on the basis that baby-G felt it was the more financially responsible choice. Also so she could keep her dragon in her house with her, but we're not there yet.

I looked at that certificate. Looked at it again. Looked at the calendar, and then looked at the sewing machine I had just been given for Christmas.

G celebrates her birthday in January.

The template came first. I studied the different images of the standard western dragon through the book, picked my favourite, and re-drew it to a significantly larger scale.

Inking the design to the fabric, four times over probably took the longest.

I very subtly asked G the next time she was over (after hurling all dragon-related materials in a panic into the depths of my wardrobe) what type of colour dragon she would have, should it come up. As G later said, that type of question from me truly did not register as anything other than a question asked from theoretical interest. I transitioned the topic as discreetly as I could after she answered, and delightfully, my sneakiness went in one ear, out the other, and she forgot I had ever asked until several weeks later.

I enjoyed painting them.

Don't ask me how many mistakes I made through this process. So many. I do already know how to sew, but it's been a long time. I'd been meaning to get back into it for a while.

Given that various aunts and grandmothers and my mother had a knack for calling when I was up to my elbows in either paint or pins, it became a family affair. Each of them peered at the project through face time and offered their advice.

Some of the advice I took, some I didn't. No regrets about sewing it in pink thread. Considerable regrets about accidentally slicing one of the feet in half and having to fix that.

In the end though, she was finished.

I carefully pinned on her name tag, with the name baby-G had chosen with a little blue ribbon. A collar was unacceptable, this is a dragon, people, come on. Dragon's don't wear collars.

I put the book in the box, open to the registration certificate, and put the dragon on top. Wrapped the whole thing up with a bow and then refused to touch it before I sent myself mad trying to fix details that didn't really need to be fixed.

A bit late for her birthday, sure, but there we are. We'd gone for a trip off to nowhere for a weekend, to go try wine made out of blueberries and hike up a waterfall. (And climb on it. And swim in it. It was a very good waterfall).

I gave her the box, informed her she wasn't allowed to keep the box, just the contents (it was the only thing I had that was big enough for me to keep all of my A3 portfolios in, it had only been temporarily-repurposed as dragon housing), and then left the next bit up to the gods.

A surprise, sitting un-awaited for some 15 years in amber, to catch up to baby G and adult G together.

Happy Birthday, baby and adult G.

#StClaire speaks #How to Raise & Keep A Dragon #John Topsell #Joe Nigg #the thing about problems hammers and nails #except in this case it was childhood wishes and sewing machines #and as someone said #you were relearning to sew and you started with THAT?#well no #I started with a scrub hat #which kept the hair out of my face while I painted this #and then also that apron my aunt gave me the pieces to years ago that I refused point blank to do by hand #but yeah #101 mistakes later #and one re-attached foot #pretty happy with her #dragons

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difficultdomains · 4 months

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affection

summary: after suguru leaves, you notice curses lingering around you. you go to confront him about it, but by meeting him again, you discover that some things seem to remain intact, even when you expect them to have been broken long ago.

c/w: sfw, sorcerer!reader, cultleader!geto, swearing, smoking & cigarettes, lovers to enemies to lovers kind of??, reader was negatively impacted by geto leaving & is lowkey obsessed with him, geto is lowkey obsessed with reader hehe, POV switches, no use of y/n

w/c: 1.2k

a/n: this was a just random thought that refused to leave my brain after i saw this (artwork by the great @521jie on X/Twitter!!). this is the verY first time i’ve ever written a proper fic (in my noTES APP ekkxkd) and posted it soooo (hELP LMAO) see it as an experiment. anyways enjoy - or don’t, your choice.

💿: no devotion - TENDER (A-side) // ache - FKA twigs (B-side)

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An auditory hallucination.

There was no other plausible way to explain this.

When he heard his own name cutting through the pattering hum of the rain, he couldn’t help but choke on the cigarette smoke he’d just inhaled, violent coughs instantly ripping through his lungs.

Lured into turning towards the strangely familiar voice, he expected to be met with nothing but endless rows of trees surrounding his temple.

Auditory and visual? Can‘t be.

It really was you - stalking towards him through the muddy grass, hair glued to your wet cheeks, and wearing a scowl he had never seen on your face before.

His name slipped over your lips again, raw animosity packed tightly into each syllable. It made his heartbeat stutter - but not out of fear. He tried his best to suppress a smile.

”You need to stay the fuck out of my business,” you snarled, almost baring your teeth at him like a wild animal.

You looked disheveled at best, uniform dirty and ripped like you‘d just come from a fight - or a particularly rough mission.

He tilted his head, losing against the lopsided grin that spread across his lips.

You were even more alluring than he remembered.

Your stance, your demeanor, your energy - you were there, right in front of him - but you felt so different.

It must be true then.

Mere months after he had left, the rumours surrounding you caught up to him. You had changed, evolved, fallen heir to that damned position that previously belonged to him.

It had made you impulsive. Reckless even.

There were whispers of binding vows and devilish pacts - your soul exchanged for power. That one he could only ever scoff at.

Ridiculous.

Your soul was already spoken for, traded on a mellow spring evening many years ago, the same day he had lost his own.

Through the nagging ache in his stomach he had tried to convince himself that you were someone who wouldn’t venture out and look for trouble - just because you could.

At least that’s who you used to be.

So the very moment he sent out that first curse, tasked solely with keeping a watchful eye over you while you complete your missions, he was aware that you would absolutely hate this - if you ever found out.

And now it seemed like you had.

”You came all this way just to tell me that?“

He took another drag of his burned-out cigarette, feigning nonchalance to conceal his shaky hands. Fucking adrenaline.

”This could’ve been a text, darling.“

Withstanding the look of your frozen-over eyes was easy. But he did wonder if the ice around your irises was unbreakable.

You scoffed at him. What a bastard.

Three years.

For three whole years, you had seen remnants of his face in every person you passed on the street. Found traces of his energy in every grotesque curse you exorcised.

The slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the limitless patience in his eyes - you were cursed with never forgetting them. There was hardly a day where your subconscious hadn‘t forced you to face him, awake or asleep.

And now there he was - flashing you that same old stupid smile. Your lungs constricted with every breath.

His hair was longer than the last time you’d seen him, his features sharper, more refined. You clenched your cold fingers into fists, physically denying yourself the primal urge to just reach out and touch.

He must have been woven out of pure magnetism, his mere presence was enough to pull you towards him. It was impossible to blame anyone for mistaking him for some celestial being and finding themself trapped in his orbit.

You had been his first victim, after all.

However, he had made his choice.

And you had made yours.

A definite, irreversible reminder, stomping out any links that existed between you two.

Or at least it should have.

The driving anger that had brought you here in the first place crept its way back into your guts, pushing away any residual fondness and making you cross your arms and lift your chin. You were not going to humor his remark with a response.

“Why?“ A demand, not a question.

“Why do you send them after me?“

No combination of words could answer this without revealing to you what was locked away deep in his chest.

He chuckled quietly, seemingly unbothered, but his restless hands gave him away, driving cracks into his carefully crafted facade. They disappeared into his pockets, only to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

“For old times‘ sake?“

He extended his arm, just enough so you could reach the top of the pack but not the fingers that held it at the bottom.

You glared at him with knitted eyebrows when a bright orange something, carefully stuffed between the remaining cigarettes, caught your attention.

When you realized what you were looking at, your eyes widened, instantly shooting back up to his face.

His grin had turned sheepish. Caught.

”Your lighter. Is it-„

”Yes.“

Slender fingers quickly pulled the lighter out, throwing it to you effortlessly.

You managed to catch it, flipping it around in your palm a couple of times. It was cheap, worn out from extensive use, and painfully ordinary.

Scribbled on the back, however, was an almost faded, uneven black heart. Done with an equally cheap permanent marker and by no one other than yourself.

You had given it to him a lifetime ago, shortly after the two of you had acquired your first shared pack. You had felt so awfully grown up back then.

”I can’t believe that thing still works,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

His eyes darted away from you as if you had turned into the blinding sun herself.

”I take care of it, you know.“

Did you just walk into a trap?

You took in a sharp breath, the implication that came with the tiny mundane object in your hand was more than you could handle.

Your vision blurred for a fraction of a second, you tried to blink it away - but all you could see in front of you was him. Not the cult leader, the murderer, the curse user. Just him.

He’d expected many things to happen between the two of you, but not this kind of silence. Curiosity overwhelmed him, forcing his gaze back onto your face.

What he found there was a kaleidoscope of emotions, rapidly flickering across your features. Like hinges on a rusty old gate, they broke, tearing down what you had so rigorously molded around yourself.

The window he was peering through was small - and he could feel that he had absolutely no time to lose.

So he gave in, cutting across the two wooden steps leading down from the veranda, cigarettes long forgotten and dropped. Cold, merciless little daggers of rain immediately punctured his skin, but when his hands found your skin, it was so velvety, so warm under his touch.

You flinched at the familiar contact and closed your eyes. The soft pads of his fingers on your cheeks were a siren’s song, engulfing you, tugging you further and further into depths that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to emerge from.

He didn‘t move his hands away.

You didn’t want him to.

His fingers brushed across your right cheekbone until they found their way through the tangles of your hair and to the back of your neck. He gently pulled you towards him, until your foreheads met and the air you breathed became the same.

”I‘ve been expecting you. Every day.“

Eternity passed.

You opened your eyes.

Maybe it was just the reflection of his own eyes in your blown-out pupils.

But there it was again.

Affection.

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I’m kinda playing with the idea of writing a what happens after to this, but who knows…

#noon.writes #geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto angst #geto headcannons #geto imagines #reader insert

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elioslover · 6 months

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Friday Nights - Harry Styles x reader. (Dadrry Oneshot).

[The polls revealed that you sweetpeas wanted more dadrry and my ovaries agreed. Hope you guys find it as cute as I do! 💞]

Premise: Harry can't wait to get home to see his favourite girls.

More dadrry / Other writing

Word count: 1.9k / Warnings

🧸

Harry has the entire weekend off- not just a lucky Saturday afternoon- the entire weekend. And he has spent the first 18 hours without empty hands, but the fullest of hearts.

His baby girl- who has long surpassed gaining the skill of walking- has been carried and coddled from the second Harry’s boots hit the hardwood of the entrance hall early Friday evening. The sun has yet to fully set and his whole body is whisked away with excitement at what awaits on the other side of the front door.

At the familiar sound of keys dangling from their slotting in the keyhole, his little petal has dismissed her activity of creating a colourful artwork, crayon still squished between her chubby fingers as her wobbly feet bound over to the front door in pursuit of the mysterious person attempting access.

With the patience she has surely learned from yourself- not Harry- his little 3-year-old is standing in wait, eyes wide with curiosity, her posture still shy and weary of who might enter in a moment.

And when the door becomes ajar, a familiar worn-down leather Gucci boot comes into vision, and then she can see the other boot too- her features prettily framing a painting of the unconditional love she has for her daddy. Those silly boots older than herself are the surest sign of one of her favourite humans stepping into the house.

Giddily, she beams up at him, her chubby ankles balancing her soft feet as she bounces up and down, her body swaying with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pure excitement.

Harry isn't even halfway through the door when he is confronted by his cute, cheery, tiny toddler, and he feels his shoulders soothingly shrug at the mere sight- unaware of just how happy he is at the blessing of ending his stressful days in the comfort of a home life he never considered a possibility.

Taking a full step into the hallway, Harry is reminded of your existence whenever his babygirl wistfully looks at him. She is the combination of he and your love, and so much more.

Her hair is a little damp, presumably from just having had a bath and some supper. Harry thinks he must have caught her amid playtime, and he hopes tomorrow might offer the opportunity for him to partake in these activities.

And he will, sternly telling you that he hopes you'll take the opportunity to make the weekend your own; tending to tasks, catching up with both friends and binging series, even just using the time to extend your naps, meals, and self-care.

But right now, the bag slung across his shoulder is dropped to the floor, he brushes the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it but cares not if it shuts completely, because a three-year-old- dressed in a pale blue set of jammies decorated in her favourite dinosaurs- is exclaiming, "Daddy" through a burst of enthusiastic giggles.

He takes a step forward, but she is more than willing to meet him in the middle, her tiny toes coming into contact with his boots before he can blink and she tightly wraps her arms around his leg- she only measures up to below his knee- adorably squeezing as tight as she can.

Harry's heart swells so big, he fears he is a balloon filled with so much helium it's begging to burst- but if it bursts, he knows his entire body will become a firework exhibition centred around the theme of how much he unconditionally loves his baby girl.

He does his best to bow closer, wrapping his arms around her, and in true tradition, Harry then lifts her little-ness, helping her balance her feet on the tops of his boots- Harry would have thrown these scuffed, barely stylish boots away if it weren't for the undeniably heart-warming reaction he receives when arriving home.

She now stands atop his shoes, her arms extending up so her hands can be clasped by his, and they are swallowed like a small petal in his palm- so small, he has never seen something-someone- so dainty. Harry slowly takes dance-like steps around the hallway, enthused and cheered on by the cheeky giggles of his daughter enjoying their little 'dance' along the hardwood.

Still humouring and guiding her around, Harry calls out, "'M home, Lovie," seeking out the location of his gift-giver, yourself.

"Hi, Bubs!" You call, and by the distance in your voice, Harry knows you're probably in the kitchen- which is confirmed mere seconds later, "'m in the kitchen", you coo, "felt like making spring rolls…", you pause, "It's still undecided if I'm succeeding or not."

Harry chuckles softly, eager to enter the kitchen and see exactly what you're on about, and by now, the easily distracted toddler has released him, bumbling on about wanting to show her daddy the latest masterpiece she will soon add to her collection.

He certainly will, "How 'bout you show me, and then we can draw another one together?"

She sillily but seriously considers it, her hand stroking her chin as if the fate of the world is balancing atop her ten fingers. Harry thinks he sees himself in her, he thinks he sees himself in you, and loving you has surely rubbed off on him.

Eventually, his sassy three-year-old tells him- with humorously, adorable certainty- "Yes."

Harry's chest lulls with love as he tells her, "Need to say hi to mummy first, okay?"

She nods avidly, "I'll start without you." To which Harry laughs aloud and begins the task of removing his boots.

Harry trails down the hallway, his sock sliding along the hardwood, his eyes glancing over the array of framed photographs- ones of himself and you, of the baby, pets, family and friends.

As he rounds the corner, the aroma of freshly chopped cabbage and carrots invades his senses, and said senses go into overdrive as his eyes land on the loveliest of things; his partner, partially hidden as you stand behind the kitchen island, slicing an avocado, humming along to soft sound of 'Hand Me Downs'.

He finds himself behind you so fast, like a fugue of neediness had taken over and he had to tend to it. You hum in contentment, body sinking back into his chest, still chopping with nonchalance as his arms carefully, but desperately, wrap around your waist, his hands mindlessly shifting the material of your clothes to ensure skin-on-skin contact.

He wants to be near- just for a moment- softly peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, and when you shudder, he huffs out with an overload of admiration. His little pecks seem successful as you finally discard your dinner prep, placing the knife on the counter before twirling your body around to face Harry.

His smile is bright and matches his eyes, unintentionally encouraging your features to mirror his as you tilt up onto your toes in favour of giving him a good smooch,

"Hello, my Darling." You address, pressing your lips to the corner of his own.

"Missed you, Lovie." He says before going in for a proper kiss; pecking you one, two, three times before he is smiling so much that it becomes hard to call this kissing.

You giggle against his lips, giving him one last kiss before tilting back less than an inch to let him know, "Missed you more."

"Liar." He chuckles, tilting his neck to the ceiling, giving you the opportunity for a cheeky nip of his chin. Harry's body jolts with pleasant surprise, hand sliding down your lower back to give your denim-clad bum a good squeeze.

And then perhaps the sassiest and cutest demand comes echoing down from the room over, "Excuse me!" which only has the pair of you a soft chuckling mess.

You gently stroke the nape of Harry's neck, nails scraping the nearest tufts of his hair, "Y' better get going." a final kiss to both cheeks and his lips before you remind him, "Your Highness awaits."

Harry nods along with a swift tap to your bum cheek and a kiss to your forehead as he leaves the kitchen in pursuit of the art gallery that is guaranteed to be covering the walls of the games room.

She is already seated at her little yellow table, her collection of colourful markers, pencils, and glitter pens are all neatly lined up on the right, and she has a pile of complete artworks stacked on the left. In the centre is an A4 pink piece of cardboard already covered in streaks of black marker.

Continuing to scribble, she makes a small gesture for Harry to pull up a seat next to her. He does so, untucking the chair he knows will do a useless job at holding his height, nevertheless, he settles in easily- a product of this being a recurring event- turning his body to signal his attention is entirely hers.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry enthusiastically reacts and admires his little one's creations, and then he follows her to the puppy's bed, letting her show off the new toy she chose for their golden retriever to sleep with this evening, then Harry helps her up the stairs, gently hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around his hips, her head curling into his chest.

She instructs him to go to her bedroom, only loosening her grip as he slowly dips to place both her and himself upon her bed. Out of his hold, her little legs crossed, feet wiggling with excitement, patting the spot next to her for her daddy to occupy.

Harry could never say no to that- for starters, it was challenging enough saying it to you- his body shuffling closer, shifting to suit her wishes until she is happily cradled across his chest, his hip awkwardly pressed into the mattress, shoulder twisted unpleasantly, but he has no cares to give.

She wants him to tell her a story. Sometimes she wants to hear about him having fun with his friends, or how he and mommy met and fell in love, other days she wants him to make one up tonight, she wants to hear about his singing.

She asks simple, scattered questions, mostly unrelated to the one before and after. Slowly they delay and his answers add an extra drone, she is getting rather comfy, cuddling up into the crook of Harry, sharing this contentedness with such sleepiness that he knows he is sure to follow.

Downstairs, admiring your dinner, you are quite proud of the final results of your spring rolls. Patience and persistence certainly has its perks. If your phone were nearby, you would be tempted to take a picture, but you have something better; a handsome husband who will soon praise you in wonderment as he scarfs down your proud work.

After a brief stroll through the living room and the games room, you patter your way up the staircase and make a beeline for her bedroom. As expected, you find your favourite duo, but what wasn't expected was the sigh of Harry cradling a sleeping toddler.

She is sleeping soundly, her little wrists and ankles scrunched, her face with a naturally concentrated brow furrow- just like her father. Harry has one arm wrapped around her, his head tucked behind her own, laying obscurely but looking cosier than ever.

#im so stoned #need to edit #lmao #elioslover #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles #dadrry #dad!harry #harry styles fluff

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90sbee · 3 months

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Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

4.4k words. Also on ao3.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.

This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.

Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).

Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.

They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.

Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?

Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.

Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?

“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.

He agrees to her proposal, though.

“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.

She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.

He doesn’t share that with her, though.

“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.

When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.

“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.

“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.

“Oi. coffee?” He complains.

She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.

“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.

“What is it this time?”

“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers. She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.

“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.

“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”

“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.

“Where do we go?” She asks.

Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”

She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.

He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.

“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.

Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.

“The bridge.”

“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”

“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.

“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.

She just nods.

“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.

The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.

“Good,” he says.

Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.

He coughs to catch her attention, though.

“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.

“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.

“Yep.”

Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.

“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.

She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?

She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”

“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.

“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.

“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.

“Captain?”

“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.

“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”

Levi chuckles, amused.

“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?

She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.

It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.

There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.

“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”

“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.

She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.

“Shit,” he spits, upset.

“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”

Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.

“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.

Levi.

He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.

“Let’s get you home, Captain.”

He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.

There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.

While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.

“Oi,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.

“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”

“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.

“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”

Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.

Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.

When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.

He is tired.

And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.

“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.

“… Yes.”

She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.

“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.

She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”

Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.

“No,” he mutters.

“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.

“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.

“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.

“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”

He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.

“Let me handle it myself.”

“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.

“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.

“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.

“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.

She nods, understandingly.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.

Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.

She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.

He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.

“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.

A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.

“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.

Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.

“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.

“Of fucking course.”

Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.

“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”

He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.

“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”

He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.

“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.

“… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?

“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.

Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.

“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”

“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.

Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.

She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.

He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.

He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…

They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.

She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.

“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.

Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.

Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.

So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.

Levi just wants her to say.

She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.

“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.

He can only look at her lips in reply.

She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.

Levi. Happy, at last.

And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.

He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.

But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet.

So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Levi still doesn’t understand, though.

He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.

He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.

He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.

Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.

Just existing.

He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.

He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.

“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”

He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.

Some things… Some things have meaning still.

Her.

The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”

She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.

She is at peace.

He wants to sob.

He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death… She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.

He isn’t sure if he can do the same.

Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.

But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.

He could have it.

He fucking could.

Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.

He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.

But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.

He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.

Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.

Yes. Now it is the time.

Levi would dedicate his heart once more.

To her and only her.

That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction #writer bee #mine #x reader #reader insert

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ghcstao3 · 1 year

Text

ghost and soap are both immortals. for those aware (i.e. tf141), the initial thought is that, if anything, ghost is the ‘old’ immortal and soap is the ‘new’ immortal, because ghost is just broody and has definitely lived through hell, and while soap has as well, in his own way, his sunny disposition doesn’t really let that show. so, such a conclusion might make sense

but this isn’t the case. at all.

it becomes glaringly obvious what’s true when soap will make references to things decades or centuries old like it’s something modern and relevant and get confused when everyone looks at him funny. he has collections upon collections of artwork, some of the older works of which have ended up in museums and galleries which still, to this day, pisses soap off (“so what if i faked my death? it’s still my art”). he’ll mention famous historical figures like they were good friends, talk about famous historical events like they happened just yesterday, and in no sense does he really try to hide the fact from his friends and teammates that he’s just really fucking old

ghost, on the other hand, is still coming to terms with immortality. he talks about things like they’re old when, in reality, someone like price probably has a better memory than him concerning whatever it is. he’s also occasionally careless on missions about getting shot, or stabbed, or hurt in any way if it means succeeding because he can’t be killed, whereas soap isn’t as careless because it still hurts to have a bullet lodged in his body, and he’d rather not be in pain if he can help it

soap doesn’t know about ghost’s lack of experience as an immortal at first and is completely baffled when ghost just doesn’t get some of the things he talks about when he should because he’s immortal and—“so you weren’t a hermit, you just hadn’t been born yet?” “no, soap, we’re not all ancient”—then suddenly things start to make a little more sense

#alternate universe #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #soapghost #ghostsoap #modern warfare #call of duty #task force 141 #soap has long since lost track of his age and birthday #versus ghost not knowing when he should stop counting

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mochatsin · 7 months

Text

WHEN MC CAN DRAW

Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the brothers react when they find out you’re a great artist?

literally in the middle of drawing when I thought about this and i'm wondering why it took me this long to think of an Artist!MC prompt damn. Enjoy reading!

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Lucifer

He already had a vague idea that you have a keen eye for the arts when he took you to a gallery once. You’re familiar with a lot of paintings in the human realm, but none of them could quite compare to the styles down here in Devildom.

Lucifer wanted to teach you more about the cultures of Devildom through painted histories and stories which is why he took you to the gallery, and he notices how observant you are of the details on the artwork. He assumed maybe you’re just very educated with the arts up in your world.

Though one day he found you in your room trying to draw a piece with the styles similar to the paintings you both saw the other day. The linework and colors are very on point, Lucifer would have assumed this wasn’t done by your own hands if he saw it displayed on the walls.

“You’re quite talented if you drew all this after just one art gallery tour.” Lucifer says as he moves closer to further inspect your art. If you ask him how to improve it or how the method works, he would be happy to give you some tips or pointers.

“As impressive as this is, I would like to see something you’ve made in your own style.” Lucifer would want you to show something that speaks more about you, not about Devildom. He’s curious to see what makes your art style original. He wants to see you take pride in whatever you create of course.

He’d love to have one of your artworks be framed somewhere in the house. You can use his office for that peace and quiet so that none of his brothers would disturb you while you worked. Lucifer wanted it framed in his room for him to enjoy, though after his brother’s protests and one heated dinner discussion, the piece was placed in the living room instead for everyone.

Mammon

Mammon doesn’t really have the best sense of boundaries when it comes to your room, so he ends up barging through the doors to see what you were up to and maybe try to whisk you away for a bit of gambling for the evening. Though he finds you on your desk doing some homework, papers scattered on your bed.

You tell him you’re busy working on a project so he whines but stays with you in your room. You have homework about summoning circles so you had several discarded drafts resting on your bed. Mammon can’t help but go through the papers while he waits out of pure boredom.

Mammon eventually spots under the pile a few of your own personal artworks you’ve made. You forgot to keep them away since they got buried underneath all those papers. “EY!! This ain’t part of a class project right?! This looks freakin’ fantastic!”

You can tell he’s being genuine about his compliments just by seeing the look on his face. “I-I'm not just sayin’ that cuz you’re my human! I know a gold mine when I see one yaknow?” Mammon says while he goes through the pile to see if there are more works out there for him to admire. He might be tempted to steal one of them just so he can piece of something you’re passionate about so close to him.

He would definitely urge you to sell some of them for profit, put up commissions online or advertise it on RAD. At first you wondered if this was part of his money-making schemes… he admits it was at first but he wants you to succeed in this if it’s something you genuinely want to do.

“You gotta cut me some slack sometimes ya know? I bet you’ll make bank outta this. I know my old plans for quick grimm haven't worked out, but this one I'm SURE won’t fail” his enthusiasm is almost contagious. Regardless of your decision, Mammon is happy enough to sit back and enjoy your artwork.

Levi

He is going to be so ecstatic knowing that you’re actually really good at drawing in any form of medium. Levi found out one day when he asked to borrow your notes for class and you lend him your notebook. He was flipping through the pages until he noticed that you’ve been doing little doodles at the back. “I-is that…”

Your peaceful little afternoon got chaotic when you heard an excited scream from down the hall, followed by rampant footsteps that got louder in a matter of seconds until your door opened. Levi has your notebook in hand, with the biggest grin plastered on his face.

“Y-YOU COULD DRAW RURI-CHAN?!” Levi doesn’t even give you the time to speak when he shows you the doodles and starts going on a rant on how you captured the details of her outfit so perfectly. Even the magic staff is actually on point!

There’s times he would be peeking by your door while you’re doodling something in your room. Levi wanted to ask if you could draw his favorite characters but he’s too shy to do so, but he’ll be the happiest when you agree to it.

“I-if you need the references i have a few!” He would say ‘few’ but ends up giving you what’s almost an entire album of art references that you could use. If you want, he can even take the figurines of said characters off his shelf (which is rare) so you can have a better look at it from all angles.

Levi would definitely have it posted on the walls, keeping all your artworks like a new collection. He would gush about how he wishes he could draw because it’s another way of expressing your love for something you care about. Would definitely commission you for certain things because he doesn’t want to keep asking you for free art.

Satan

Recently he got you hooked on this detective novel series, and you both spend a lot of time together just talking about your favorite parts. Satan loves that chase scene between the detective and thief since it was written so well, it’s almost like you can play the scene in your head.

He’s with you in his room, sitting on the couch with the book propped up by your knees. He assumes you’re just rereading the book and does his own thing. He likes that about your company where the silence is comforting, though there are times you ask Satan what he thinks the detective or the thief looks like in his head.

By the time Satan had to answer one more query that he realized you’re not actually reading the book. He sees that you’re holding onto a pen as you scribble something behind the book, so he decides to sneak behind you while you’re distracted out of curiosity.

He’s surprised to find you drawing on a notebook, looking at the chapter of the book with the chase scene that he mentioned the other day. “You’re… drawing the scene?” He asked, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile. He’s impressed that you got the compositions so well too. To him, you brought this scene to life.

“Is this why you were asking me all those questions? Well, I’d say you perfectly captured the scene and-” He’d talk about the details you’ve drawn and how it matches what’s written in the book, like a professional critique. He’d love to see the piece once you finish, and even see all your other works you’ve done in the past as well. One cat drawing would make him excited for sure.

One time you made him a bookmark by using your art for the designs. The brothers know that Satan doesn’t use those as often because he tends to finish books in one sitting, but he began to have that cute little bookmark pressed between the pages of his current book. Not only is the design so perfect, it’s from his precious human too.

Asmo

Asmo is adoring the attention he’s been getting from you recently whenever he would make a little fashion show in his room with all the new outfits he’s bought. He loves the awe he hears from you and how you eye him up and down after he strikes a pose.

He even saw you buying a magazine with him on the cover, and he just can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of how much you probably adore him because who wouldn’t? You must really love how he looks, right? Asmo even thought of giving you a private show just for your eyes.

Though he found out eventually that you’re using the poses in his magazines as reference when he saw that you’re trying to copy the pose he made on the cover. “I’m rather offended that you didn’t reference me, the source material itself! I’m always ready to be your model, hun!”

Asmo would make the perfect model because being in model magazines, he’s used to holding on poses for periods of time without complaint. He’s not shy about his body either so you can ask him to be in any sort of pose for you (but you have to stop him from being not so family friendly when you try to fix his position).

If you’re good at designing clothes then Asmo is going to fall for you even harder. He would admire all the designs you can do, and if you’re open to suggestions then as someone who works and shops frequently at Majolish, he would have a lot of good ideas. He’ll have the connections to make your designs come to life and model it for you.

“I just know if you posted these fine works on Devilgram, it’ll get you tons of views for sure! Especially if the muse is me” Asmo says with a wink as he admires your art. If you made an account then he’ll be loud about it on his social media, wanting people to feast their eyes on it.

Beel

He does a lot of home workouts so often you spot him doing a lot of stretches or lifts around the house. There’s even times you offer to help like sitting on his back while he does his push ups or just being his little moral support.

Though he noticed all the attention you’re giving on his muscles recently. You offered to wipe off the dirt and sweat he got from his Fangol practice, and Beel sees how much you’re staring intently at his muscles while you wipe him dry with a towel. “MC… is there something wrong?”

It's only then you realize that your eyes have been glued to him for so long so you decide to explain. You tell Beel that you’ve been sketching recently with someone of his body type but you can’t seem to get the muscles correctly. Hearing that makes Beel smile though.

“Well, if you want me to help I could. But I want to see your works, if that’s okay with you” Beel said. He’s not much of an artist himself (Satan notes that Beel’s art still haunts him to this day), so he’s very supportive knowing that you can draw.

He has this awe in his face like how he looks when the restaurant serves him the biggest platter of food as soon as he sees your artworks. Beel is happy you’re sharing such talent with him. “This piece is so colorful. It reminds me of the rainbow layered parfait we had the other day… oh, now I'm hungry.” Even if Beel can eat books and things that aren’t exactly food, he never once tried that with your artworks.

He’d invite you more often to his little home workouts so you can study his muscles more closely. Beel would love it if you sit on his back while he does push ups as you draw. The sound of the pencil scribbling would bring him to focus.

Belphie

There’s an upcoming event for RAD that requires a lot of decorations. Since a lot of people are busy with their own tasks, you and Belphie were paired up to think of possible decor for the stage.

Belphie complained how Asmo or Levi should’ve been here instead but since they’re both in charge of the outfits, then he’ll settle with this because at least it requires minimal work. You both were trying to discuss the backdrop designs and the props but he fell asleep midway.

Belphie wakes up in a few minutes later to the sound of scribbling pens when he saw you creating the designs. You asked him to pick from one of the sets you made but he’s too stunned to even decided when all of them are so good. “You made all of that while I was asleep?” Belphie is in a state of disbelief.

The one that struck him the most is the starry sky landscape. For someone who loves to watch the stars, this one was particularly mesmerizing for Belphie. So out of personal bias he chose that one.

He never stopped bugging you about your art, always wanting to see what you’re drawing when he spots you on your notebook. He’s not much of a ‘draw me next’ kind of person, but he’d be absolutely happy if you did. More so if you drew him and Beel together.

Whenever you’re drawing, Belphie wants to take a nap by your lap while you do your work. He likes the look you make whenever you’re trying to figure out something in your art before he drifts off to sleep. His favorite part is waking up to see that you’ve already finished your piece so he gets to admire it first.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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l8rs-gat0rs · 6 months

Text

You got some time?

Pairing: Carol Danvers x AFAB Spider person!reader

Warning(s): smut ;) , flirty Carol, reader is also kinda a flirt, CAPTAIN KIIIINK, Carol using her powers in you in you, degradation, moderate fluff, Dom Carol is a warning itself.

Summary: The Captain's got some free time on her hands and so do you, you decide to have a night out because superheroes don't get many of those. As the night goes on, Carol decides time isn't the only thing she wants her hands on and you have the exact same idea.

Word count: 3.4k

I know, I know, I have requests to finish but my brain would not let me write them until I finished this one. I will get to the requests soon! I swear😔

Happy kinktober btw!!!! One of the best times of the year if I do say so myself😌 I obviously didn't participate in all 30 days bc I've tried in previous years, and it did not work out Haha, but here's at least one fic for Kinktober before it ends!

Side note for story purposes: I know a lot of people have their own spider personas with suits they made for them, which might I add, I've loved looking at all the artwork of! Buuuut, just so one or two of the scenes make sense, the reader's mask is kinda like Jessica drew's. The one in the comics, not across the spider verse just so we're clear. Like, the nose, mouth, and chin are open and the reader's hair is out from the top.

~~~~18+ MINORS DNI~~~~

You swung through the streets of Queens, smiling as you saw people point at you excitedly.

You were doing your evening rounds and all was looking quiet, thankfully.

You swung onto a rooftop and landed gracefully.

You had to say, you loved New York City. You grew up with the sounds of cars honking all night outside your window, you found it to be charming rather than annoying.

On top of all the warm memories and friends you made in the city, one of your favorite things in the world, nothing could beat the view of the sun setting behind all the buildings and skyscrapers from a rooftop.

"It never gets old does it?" You heard a woman's voice behind you.

You turned around as she landed, recognizing her voice.

"Carol" You smiled.

"Hey spider girl." She smiled at you, using one of your titles endearingly.

"Captain." You said right back.

If you weren't staring at her so intensely, you wouldn't have caught the slight falter in her confidence as she looked away, clearing her throat before looking back at you.

However, before you could comment on it she locked eyes with you once more and spoke.

"I'm kind of jealous you've had this view all your life." She spoke quietly, moving to stand next to you and gaze over the view you had previously been looking at.

You turned around and smiled.

"Yeah, well I bet nothing beats space." You smirked and nudged her with your elbow.

She chuckled, turning back to look at you.

"It's not all that, lots of emptiness and darkness if I'm being honest, and I miss the people."

She turned back to the sunset before continuing.

"I like this much better." She sighed.

The sun shone a beautiful golden light onto her face. As the wind blew through her hair, the sun made it shine even more golden than it already was.

"Yeah, me too." You said softly.

She turned to you and smiled, a faint blush reaching her cheeks as she realized what you meant.

"Ew you’re so cliché," she punched your arm lightly, causing you to laugh.

"So everything clear on your front?" She asked, turning to you.

"Yup, just finished my evening rounds. There's no sign of any supervillains, and I left a guy webbed to a pole for the cops. Surprisingly quiet other than that." You shrugged.

She chuckled causing you to smile at the sound.

"Well, it's all quiet on my end as well, sooooo...." She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"Soooo?" You responded curiously.

"Come on! We finally both have some free time, let's do something together!" She exclaimed.

It was true, you usually didn't have free time, and when you did, Carol wasn't free.

After thinking about it for a minute, you agreed.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" You smiled, causing her to jump in the air and clap.

"How abouuuut, we watch a movie?" She pitched after calming down.

"Hmm okay, what kind of movie?" You asked absentmindedly walking up the side of the water tower that was on the roof.

Carol lifted her head to watch you as she mused.

"What about a rom-com?" She asked with faux innocence.

You stopped in your tracks as you stood upside down from under the water tower.

You attached a web to the underside and slowly descended, still upside down, till you were in front of Carol, her eyes following you the whole way down.

"A rom-com you say?" You smirked.

"Yeah, why not?" She shrugged.

"What's with the smirk?"

"Nothing, nothing....So is this like...a date?" You swung lightly, your hair swaying with you.

"So rom-com equals date to you?" She smirked.

"No, but you specifically asking me to watch a rom-com with just you, feels like a date."

"Okay, then what if it was a date?" She shrugged.

"Then I wouldn't be mad" You smiled, still hanging upside down, but stopping your swaying.

"Then it's a date." She said, moving closer to you, while watching your lips.

"Isn't this a bit cliché?" You whispered with a playful smile, referencing her earlier comment.

"What, you want me to be upside down too?" She joked.

You laughed before stealthily turning yourself upright and landing on the floor, letting go of your web.

"I mean we haven't even been on the date yet, Danvers." You chuckled.

"Fair enough, I can wait." She said coolly.

"Who said I was kissing you at all tonight?" You shot back.

"I just have a feeling," she smirked before turning to walk away from the water tower.

You followed her, smiling at her confidence.

"You look good in the mask by the way." She added, not turning around.

Your face felt hot at her unexpected compliment.

"Th-Thanks" You cursed yourself for stuttering.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at your response.

"No problem, so, I'll meet you at the theater on 37th avenue?" She asked, turning around to face you and slowly walking backwards.

"Yeah, sure." You confirmed.

"I'm gonna wear something nice tonight." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wow, the great Captain Marvel dressing up all for me!?" You gasped, over-exaggerating your reaction with your hand over your chest.

She stopped walking backwards.

"Not for you, it's just been a while since I dressed up." She rolled her eyes.

"Come onnnn, admit it! It's mostly for me." You smirked and crossed your arms as you finally stood in front of her.

"Well I'll admit one thing, you're special." She winked.

You felt your chest swell with warmth and you smiled like an idiot.

"Alright then, I'll dress up a bit too." You thought about what to wear.

"Oh? That sounds promising." Carol smirked before you saw her body start to glow with energy.

"See you soon?" She asked with a raised brow and she started to lift off the ground.

"See you soon, captain." You smiled and saluted her.

She smirked before flying off the opposite way of you.

"What. A. Woman." You sighed aloud to yourself with your hands on your hips before swinging towards your house.

When you get home you fretted over what to wear.

You didn't wanna go overboard, but it was a date, Carol also said she was dressing up...

You settled with a red button up, the first 2 buttons unbuttoned, tucked into black jeans with suspenders, topping it off with your favorite black chuck Taylors.

"Wow I look so gay." You chuckled to yourself.

You stepped outside your house and put your portable suit that Tony gave you in your pocket.

You didn't like wearing it that much, preferring the suit you designed yourself, but hey, when duty calls....

You got into the Uber you had ordered and gave the driver the address of the theater.

When you got there, you saw Carol already waiting outside, and boy did your jaw drop.

She was wearing a suit with a bow tie, her hair was in waves, and she topped it all off with shiny black dress shoes.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled when she saw you get out of the car.

"Jesus Christ Carol, I thought I was gonna be overdressed." You gaped at her.

She looked at you with a smirk.

"You look extremely good, trust me"

"And you look like you're going to a movie premier." You laughed.

"Hey, like I said, I don't get to dress up often. This was just hanging in my closet collecting dust." She gestured to her suit.

"Well in any case, you look absolutely stunning, Carol." You smiled at her, barely managing to keep your jaw shut as you glanced over her once again.

"Thank you, you as well. That outfit really...suits...you" She winked, giving you a nudge.

You rolled your eyes at her pun referring to her own outfit.

"God, you are so corny." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Come on, you loved it." She laughed.

You cracked a smile.

"Okay yeah, it was cute." You laughed along with her.

"Oh, so you think I'm cute?" She smirked.

"Oh shut up! Lets just go buy the movie tickets before all the good seats are taken." Your face heated up, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the theater as she laughed, letting you drag her.

The two of you bought tickets to a rom-com that was currently playing in theaters.

People stared at the two of you, or maybe just Carol, but nobody had the guts to come up to either of you when they saw her hand around your waist.

You made your way into the theater with minimal distractions, the only one being a little girl saying hello to Carol and high fiving her.

You had smiled fondly at the cute interaction.

"I'm actually excited, I wanted to see this movie if I'm being honest." You explained excitedly.

"Well then, I'm glad we came." Carol said as you made your way to your seats.

The two of you had come in a bit late so the lights were dim and the trailers were playing.

When you sat down Carol immediately held your hand, causing heat to slap your face as you looked at your intertwined hands.

She smiled at you as you looked up to meet her eyes, which were already watching you.

"You're adorable you know?" Carol confessed to you in a hushed whisper.

"I could say the same thing about you." You smiled.

She smiled back, but before she could say anything else, the theater went dark and the movie began to play.

"Oh shit it's starting!" You whispered excitedly, moving your attention to the screen.

The two of you watched the movie mostly in silence, occasionally, you would feel Carol's thumb lightly brushing your hand, or you would make an energetic comment about whatever was happening in the movie.

You were secretly a movie buff, and Carol thoroughly enjoyed getting to see that side of you revealed.

When the movie ended, you filed out of the theater along with everyone else and it was dark outside.

You looked up at the moon, shining brightly through the clouds.

"We should do this more often." Carol broke the silence, bringing your attention back to her.

"What, go on dates?" You chuckled.

"I mean of course, but also, Just you and me, hanging out, no pressure, no crazy aliens coming after us, no big fights, or catching criminals. Just, having a good time. It's nice." She smiled.

Your heart warmed at the sincerity In her voice.

"Yeah, I'd like that too Carol." You grinned at her, stopping in your tracks and putting your hands in your pockets.

"And... I'd even go as far as to say I like you." You said softly as you smiled at the ground.

You looked back up at Carol and she had the biggest grin on her face and her cheeks were flushed.

You laughed loudly at her silent reaction.

"What?"

"I like you too." She simply said.

"I like you a lot." She moved closer toward you causing your heart to flutter.

"So what do you suppose we do about it, I mean, now that it's out in the air and all that." You nonchalantly waved your hands in the air.

She chuckled as she walked towards you until she had you backed up into an alleyway you hadn't even noticed you were by.

Before you could get a word out, she grabbed you by the arm and pushed up against the wall, kissing you passionately.

You practically melted into the kiss.

"Oh, I've been dreaming about that." Carol said breathlessly as she pulled away lightly.

You didn't say anything for a moment, your brain still processing what had just happened.

"Wanna come over?" You asked her quickly just as she was about to speak up.

She cocked and eyebrow and smirked.

"I'm down."

You practically dragged her down the street before hailing a taxi that was parked on the side of the road.

"Are you working?" You asked the driver through the window.

He nodded and you got in the car, Carol getting in after you.

"Someone's in a hurry." Carol smirked, putting her hand on your upper thigh.

Your head shot down to look at her hand as you saw it glow with energy, you felt it warm your skin through your jeans.

You looked at her, biting your lip to hold in a groan.

As soon as the Taxi stopped outside your apartment, you thanked the driver and got out of the car.

You walked to your apartment holding Carol's hand the whole time.

You pressed the elevator button and got in, thankfully no one else was in there.

There was a charged silence between the two of you as you watched the numbers on the elevator until Carol broke it.

"You want me to fuck you? Hard or soft? Fast or slow?" Carol said with a confident smirk.

Your eyes widened as you looked at her and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Danvers." You grabbed her and smashed your lips against hers, moaning lightly.

You felt her smile against your lips before you heard the ding of the elevator, causing the two of you to quickly separate.

You speed walk to your door, ripping your keys out of your pocket, almost dropping your Stark spider suit before you shoved it into the keyhole and turned it, unlocking your door.

Carol pushes you inside and slams your back into the door to close it.

You let out a gasp as the motion winds you and Carol has an open lusty smile as her lips barely touch yours and she reaches next to you to lock the door.

After locking the door, Carol makes quick work of untucking and unbuttoning your shirt, feeling up your body.

She lets out a little excited sound as she watches you react to her touch.

"I know it was only our first date and kiss today but, I would like your permission to absolutely ruin you tonight." Carol asks, looking into your dazed eyes.

You nod without hesitation.

"Do anything you want to me, Captain." You groan.

You watch as her eyes get wild and a lustful expression graces her face.

Carol attaches her lips to your neck and immediately starts marking you. You feel her moan against your skin as she sucks on it.

Your moans fill the space of your apartment even more as she squeezes your chest underneath the sports bra while she works on your neck.

Once she is satisfied with her work, she plays with your hardened nipples as she whispers hotly into your neck, her warm breath contrarily leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"You're so pretty like this baby." She moves her thigh in between yours and pushes you down onto it.

You gasp out as you start moving your hips against her muscular thigh.

"Mmm that's it, just like that baby."

You watch as she pulls back and holds you up against the wall as she watches your hips working her thigh with her mouth hanging open.

You slip your hand into her pants and she lets out a moan when you start rubbing tight circles on her clit.

Carol closes her eyes in pleasure and moans loudly as you slip your fingers into her already soaking wet core, moving your hips fast against her thigh as she jerks her hips against your fingers.

Before the two of you get too lost in the pleasure Carol halts her movements, as well as yours. Before you open your mouth to protest, she looks you in the eyes and you see that they've darkened, her pupils blown out.

"As much as I'd like both of us to cum right here, right now, we should take this to the bedroom." She chuckles breathily as she pants.

"Mmmm, a modest lady huh?" You smirk as she helps you stand up straight again before you lead her to your bedroom.

"Hey, it's our first time, I want it to be amazing." She holds your hand.

You look at her and smile as you lead her into your bedroom, your heart feeling warm from her revelation.

"Me too," you nod.

"But I also need you to fuck me like... really bad." You add.

"I can absolutely do that " Carol smirks as both of you start to remove your shirts.

"Tell me how bad you want it." Carol whispered in your ear.

"Fuck, I want it so bad..." You groaned, your forehead falling against her neck as you breathed heavily.

Carol pushed you till the back of your knees hit the bed and you sat down, looking up at her.

"Fuck, those eyes... tell me princess, you want my fingers in you?" She asked, cocking her head as she slowly got down on her knees in front of you.

"God yes, I want your fingers-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Carol had pulled your pants down and moved your underwear to the side, shoving two of her long fingers into you.

You gasped, your mouth hanging open while you stared at her with furrowed brows.

"I already knew the answer." She smirked.

"God, could you just shut up and-"

She pushed her fingers in deeper, all the way to her knuckles and you let out a choked moan.

"hmm? What was that baby?" She held her smirk, still standing on her knees.

You laid down, your back hitting the bed roughly as you slid down a little, pushing your core closer to her.

"F-fuck you.." You gasped as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them all the way back in, reveling in the wet sounds.

"Shit, I could listen to your pretty pussy all day. You'd like that wouldn't you? Me fucking you all day?" She cooed.

You nodded aggressively, panting as the pace of her fingers started to quicken.

"Yeah? Oh I know, you love being fingered like a slut huh?" Carol started to pant.

You don't know what came over you but you moaned loudly,

"C-captain!"

Carol's eyes went wild and you felt warmth and a little buzz inside you.

You gasped out,

"Holy fuck!!" Your legs felt like they were going numb.

"Call me that again." She growled lowly, the pace of her fingers quickening.

You looked down at her and saw her hand glowing, before letting your head fall back and arching your back.

"Captain, fuck... don't stop." You moaned loudly.

"That's right, let your captain know how good she's making you feel. I can feel your slutty pussy practically sucking my fingers in." She moaned.

And she was right, you could feel yourself clenching around her fingers tightly as you rapidly approached your high.

"Yeah, oh god, I'm- you're gonna make me cum, Captain... Please... It feels so good, you make me feel so good...Please make me cum." You moaned in between pants.

"As you wish, princess." She smirked, her fingers combined with the warmth of her inside you sending you over the edge.

Carol continued thrusting her fingers deep inside you, watching your face as you writhed in pleasure, your back arching off the sheets once again as you grabbed the sheets tightly and moaned loudly with your eyes shut tight.

When it was too much to bare due to the sensitivity, you pushed at Carol's hand and she obediently pulled her fingers out.

You watched as her hand stopped glowing and watched her hungry eyes as she panted while examining her fingers coated in your juices.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and stuck her tongue out a little, barely putting her fingers in her mouth.

Once her fingers touched her tongue you watched with furrowed brows and your mouth hanging open as she moaned loudly, closing her eyes and sticking her fingers all the way Into her mouth.

She swirled her tongue around her fingers for a couple of seconds before pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a pop and meeting your eyes.

"Baby, you taste fucking amazing." She breathed out.

You groaned and let your head fall back on to the bed as your breathing started to fall down.

You felt the bed dip next to you and you turned your head, meeting Carol's warm gaze.

"How was that for our first time?" She smirked.

"I think it could've been better." You shrugged jokingly.

"Oh? Well, I guess that means it's time for round two."

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x reader #kinktober

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regal-bones · 7 months

Note

Hi, I just discovered your art through your swords, I am incredibly delighted on how good they look and how clean your animations are! But I can't help but notice there is an underlying lore going on and I want to ask if you have stuff of The Continent available to read. I love nothing more than other people's imaginary worlds and the lore and stories they made for it!

Hey !!! first of all thank u so much, that’s really sweet! And yes I do !! Sorry this took so long to answer I wanted to make a big master post :)

so first of all and as a little disclaimer, the bulk of this project is on hiatus while I work on my video game Last Sprout. (more info on that here!) But I’ve been adding little bits to it every now and then, and still been doing stuff like swordtember to flesh out the worldbuilding! Also a lot of this is quite old (some stuff from about 2020) so excuse if the art and writing is of,,, poorer quality than my recent stuff.

As an intro, I made a little animatic trailer to the series here!

youtube

if you want full on written chapters of writing, you can read:

Curated Curios Chapter 1 and 2, and the prologue Peregrine and the Starpainter (I also have a first draft of chapter 3 written which if you want to read feel free to message me, it’s just a lil rough around the edges!) A Map of the Deadlands a web novella with some animated artwork!

Then there’s other stuff! One of them is The Back Room. This is the earliest of all of the projects and has a lot of lore, as well as stuff like DnD stats! There’s a lot of pages so I’ll highlight my faves, but have an explore because there’s other stuff than what I’ve mentioned here!

The Back Room - Artefacts The Back Room - Map of the Continent The Back Room - Races The Back Room - Museum of the Continent (DnD One Shot)

Then there’s everything I have here on tumblr! For this very ask I went through and added the #curated curios tag to everything I’ve posted here on tumblr that’s from the curated curios universe! You can follow this link or the tag on this post to check it out! Most of the artwork and stuff for it I’ve shared here on tumblr!

so yeah! I hope you enjoy !!! This universe is very dear to me and I hope you have fun checking it out :} have a lovely day !!

#curated curios #Thank u for the lovely ask!

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pascalcampion · 10 months

Photo

Jacque Tardi In the France I grew up in, Art was everywhere. I was interested in Graphic novels so I looked at everything I could. Not always understanding what I was looking at. Not always realizing the impact it had on me. Some of the books I liked a lot have left very little mark on me.

Other books made a huge impact on me but it is only as an adult that I realized how much.

The work of Jacque Tardi is this second kind.

I would see his take on Nestor Burma in the pages of “A Suivre” and never read them.

It was gray. Dark, there was an inherent sadness seeping through the pages. Something about a world where people got the short end of the stick and knew about it

Tardi captured an essence of what French Life was like, away from the glamour of the Rivera or the lights of the Champs Elyse. This was NOT Louis De Funes.

It was all about small streets, rainy weather, cheap motels, the other side of the tracks. Literally!

The number of images depicting industrial warehouse by train tracks, around the Paris area are innumerable in my mind’s eye.

I never EVER understood the stories. I don’t think my 12 year old brain was experienced enough to relate to the seemingly depressed mood permeating this world, and why people did what they did because they always seemed sad in the end

No matter what the outcome was.

BUT

The artwork!!! It was palpable. The smell of rain, the feeling of long, cold winter Sunday afternoons in a city. The mood of the nights, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes( which every French kid knew since it was EVERYWHERE , the smell of hard wood floor and worn out leather. The scope of the relationships. So human you could see it on the page.

The drawings were simple, clear. They were deliberate.

I didn’t find them pretty, but it was clear they were MEANT to be this way. They WROTE the feelings.

I collected everything I could find of his and barely read any. I would make my own trips in his world. It was that powerful.

Much later, Tardi started doing books on World War 1. Memories of his father who had served.

The French perspective paralleled with the German perspective. Just like his Burma days, there was nothing pretty about it. It was gruesome, cold, and it felt real.

The people spoke the way people speak in the street. They looked like real people, they drank, lived and die without pizzaz.

I find his later work to be some of his stronger works.

His art is visual writing.

It is not for everyone, I understand this. It is probably an acquired taste I didn’t ask for, but I love seeing his work and try to read/watch everything he comes out with. #Jacque Tardi

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factual-fantasy · 2 months

Text

28 asks! :DD Thank you as always!! 💖💖

@astaherussy

My FNAF AU has been sorted out. In the sense that the timeline has been re-written enough that I can go back to drawing it..

Now the next comic in the AU is a re-write/re-draw of my old FNAF comic, Moon Malfunction. A few months ago though there were several time sensitive projects that came up and I needed to shelf Moon Malfunction 2.0 until they were done. Well now they're all done.. but Moon Malfunction is gonna take me some time to get around to..

For the past few months I've been in a really bad spot mentally and physically. And taking on my FNAF Recap/Repair project is just not something I feel I have the mental energy to do at the moment.. All it feels like is a one big pile of work. And all I wanna do I just draw what ever comes easily to me and focus on recovering..

Soooo for the time being,, my main FNAF AU might not see any updates for a bit.. Though I haven't forgotten about it and I do want to get back to it at some point soon. But for now I want to cut any work out of my relaxing/drawing time and just draw what ever I want. Which atm is pirate cookies-- <XDD

They're also great for grabbing something across the room while I stay in bed 😎😎

Why haven't I drawn anything like that yet- what--

I might just have to at some point! :00

@ardent-38

AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH!! THATS SO SWEET!! BUT ALSO LSKNAKJ XDDD

I never thought of it like that! Anyone who gets into the game through my characters is like a lactose intolerant person recommending an ice-cream joint- and they're very persuasive! XDD

But fr, thank you! And hey, even if my characters aren't in the game, they'll always be here on Tumblr waiting for you XDD

Actually, I wasn't! :00 I haven't seen that episode of the Cuphead show. But I'm assuming its about Cala Maria and Captain Brineybeard, yes? If so I can easily see the relation XD

(Post in question)

AAAA THANK YOU!! The comic was different than what I'm used to. But it was a nice change of pace. I'm glad you liked it! :}}}

@badlyblurry (Post in question)

FRRRRRR THO He's been holding that glow back for a while. Trying not to send the wrong messages to Blue and potentially damage their friendship 💔💔

XDDD ITS OK!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD 💖💖✨

@mod-bubamon

I have! In this post you can see 3 of them floating behind Melvin! (The anthro donkey)

And in this post, you can see Melvin holding one while it passes away... :((((( Sad day for sure.

Well? What did she taste like? XDD

Oh wait you're dead my bad-

Unfortunately I cant think of any songs that would match each crew members theme.. Rn all my brain can think about is this 👇

youtube

@nunyabusiness459 (Comic in question)

🥰🥰THANK YOU!! :DDD

What is primordial dough? :0

@2006-stupid-thatsme

Thank you! :DD Though unfortunately my fwernnd, I am known for being very bad at explaining how I do art things. :(

If I tried to explain my thought/design process it would just be a lot of word spaghetti that boils down to "uhhh... I just drew it.,. aandd if it dont look good.. draw it differently.. until it looks good-"

My advice would be to look on YouTube for character design tutorials or ask some other artists that have artwork similar to mine and see if they can help. :( Again, so sorry! I wish I could articulate my thoughts better 💔💔

@beryl-shade

This actually makes me think- Google says that if you add too much sugar to a cookie they become brittle.

Huh,, makes me think. If one of the cookies was baked with too much sugar.. they'd break real easy.. hmm.. 👀👀

@whereismycupofcoffee

@artistiemi

Thank you so much!! :DD I wish the same for you!! ✨💖✨

@sunnys-bloog

I've thought about drawing them! :0 And I thiiink I drew Franny one time..? The Blue one. Although I don't think I'll be able to find the sketch unfortunately-

NOT THE GUMDROP BUTTONS!!

tbh though I think they'd see him as just a normal guy! :0 Right..?

@beryl-shade

I'm not sure.. considering what I know about the games.. I thiiink they'd be horrified?? <XDD If they understand that they're made of dough, it'd be the equivalent of a human walking into a giant meat factory where they chop up meat and make weird false humans..

Okay yeah, they'd be horrified for sure XDDD

@wdillustration

:DD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :}}}

@neo-metalscottic (Cookie run post in question)

AAAAA thank you so much!! I'm glad you liked it!! :DD As for the power, I think you're right about it being a rare occasion. And the idea of her gaining better control over it over time? While her love grows as well?? Perfection. But man I'm also tempted to make it so she can change when ever she wants. :( I really like drawing her and Seafoam together like that.. 🥺

As for the Colossal squid episode,, I'd have to go back and re-watch it to decide if I'll keep it for my AU or not..

But thinking about all the stuff you described about a violent altercation and nightmares?? 👀👀 Its giving me ideas! XDD

Now if the crew did face a violent altercation like that, I imagine their #1 goal would to protect the Octopod. That's their home man! They would probably do what ever they could to get the octopod away from the situation. Like the Captain manually piloting it and some of the crew being sent out in gups to distract the squid. Stuff like that :0

@luna-purple454

AAA IT WAS ON THE 10TH BUT THANK YOU!! XDD :DD

@khoiazo

It was on the 10th actually- and hey thanks! Seam could probably use the calories <XD

@unpopularartist14 (referencing this ask post)

<XD oh boy, what a stark contrast between the sides--

@shaziztrazh

I didn't have them in mind while designing them,, though maybe I took some subconscious inspiration? I see the similarities! :0

#my response #fnaf security breach #octonauts #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #welcome home #Youtube

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feyspeaker · 1 month

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Hi! I made an account just so I could follow your work. Your art is brilliant and honestly and inspiration to where I want to be. I’m an older artist who has all the anxiety when it comes to improving my process. I’m trying to get into digital portraits and I have so many ideas in my head, but it’s frustrating because I’m not where I want to be to make this happen. What are some tricks that help you/software do you use? Of course, you don’t have to share anything that makes you uncomfortable. I currently have procreate and an iPad, but I feel a little lost. Wondering if I need a different writing tablet and photoshop. Not sure. I just eventually want to find that 3D, but also artistic look you are able to achieve.

hey there! thank you so much!!

ultimately, I will sound like a broken record but I always recommend you sign up for local figure drawing or painting classes. have people pose for you at home and sketch with charcoal and paper. go to the zoo and sit down in front on an exhibit for an hour and try to draw the animals in front of you as fast as you can and fill a couple of pages, move on to a new exhibit and do it again!

nothing is more powerful of a tool to learn than whatever writing utensil you have in your purse and the back of a napkin when you see something you'd like to capture. I've spent quite frankly my entire rememberable life doing this. I used to spend every single day in middle school/high school/my brief failed stint in community college with a pack of cheap sharpies and a beat up binder full of old worksheets and homework to draw on the backs of.

drawing/painting from life will teach you better than anything.

I use a very outdated version of Photoshop, and only got a "nice" tablet in the past 7 months.

Also, a huge tip to you and anyone else reading this: do NOT get too focused on a "style" that you want. Obsessing over that just ruined me for years and years. I wanted so, so, so badly to be the next Matsuri Hino when I was a kid. I copied her work religiously and it NEVER looked right. Frustrated me to no end. And you know why my stuff never looked like hers? Because I'm not her! You can't force your art to come out any way that isn't natural, and the sooner you can accept the art your hand wants to create, the happier you'll be and the easier art will get for you.

The past couple of years before I started diving into this more realism based work, I was just shoving myself through trying to make what art I envied of others. Very stylized/textured watercolor comic book style stuff. And I just was NOT getting any better at it. I have always been more inclined toward realism work, but I've hated it and yearned for stylized work. Yoshitaka Amano? God, I just drooled over that artstyle and beat myself up for never being able to capture it in studies or otherwise.

I finally essentially restructured my entire career around making the art that makes me happy instead of what I "wanted" it to look like. I was extremely depressed, my life was falling apart, and I still needed to make art to survive but I couldn't "art" if I was depressed and hated doing it, so I just had to step back and stop worrying so much about what I thought I wanted to make, and started making what felt most natural.

there's no easy way, and art can be a soul destroying path at times, truly. your software and hardware should come very last place compared to practicing from life (it doesn't matter if you want to paint cartoony stuff of realistic stuff, always start from life). naturally you will find what makes your heart sing the most.

I get a lot of messages from people telling me similar stuff "oh your art is EXACTLY what I want to do!" but I promise you that kind of thought process is chasing a dragon that is likely to harm or drag your creative process down. art style is such a deeply personal thing, so of COURSE it's important to find inspiration, but the second looking at someone else's artwork stops inspiring you and starts frustrating you, put it away.

There are some artists who I love, that I do not check up on often because their artwork ignites, like, serious bitter jealousy in me. It's the truth. I get so mad at myself for not being more like them, and it's such a poison. I think more artists should be transparent about this feeling because I KNOW the art community has a lot of jealousy and ugliness in it.

A fact of being an artist is that you will never be completely happy with a piece you make. You are always going to see the flaws, and that doesn't change whether you'd been drawing for 2 months or 20 years. Occasionally, you will get one piece that you are like "how did I make that???" and then get frustrated that you can't recreate it lol! It's a tough beast.

It's just really important to step back and work on yourself and where you are at, because at the end of the day, the way your soul wants to express artwork might be WILDLY different from what your brain wants, and it can be really detrimental to let those two go to war.

I hope this helps. I'm very passionate about this, and when I started out I ALWAYS ignored the artists who gave the same exact tips as above. I thought they were so annoying and unhelpful, but now I /get it/.

#ask

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 21 days

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❥❥ ✳. ꕤ 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓡𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓮 ꕤ .✳ ❥❥

Voice claim: Uzuki Shinamura - THE iDOLM@STER Cinderella Girls

“Hello, I’m Ruthie! It’s so nice to meet you! Say, have you met ___? I think you two would really get along!”

❥❥❥ Character Info:

Ruthie is an NPC character (like Neige, Rollo, Fellow Honest, etc.) and first appears in the event Breakaway Beauty: For True Love’s Cure! *coming soon!

She lives in the Queendom of Roses, attending an all-girls school while working part time at Bippity Boppity Bakery, a rival to Clover Bakery.

Obsessed with love, romance, and fairytale endings, she enjoys playing matchmaker, wanting others to be happy. She doesn’t really consider her own love life, oblivious to any admirer she has. Though she can’t help but daydream sometimes, wondering if there was someone out there for her…

❥❥❥ Basic Info:

Height: 159cm

Age: 18 years old

Grade: Junior (3rd year)

Nicknames: N/A *To be updated

Birthday: February 26th

Dominant hand: Right

Homeland: The Queendom of Roses

Favorite food: Chocolate Eclairs

Least favorite food: Seafood

Hobby: Baking, singing

Club: Gardening club

Talent: Matchmaking

Unique Magic: Eye of the Beholder - Allows her to alter people’s perception of someone, making them look like their ideal type. It only lasts for 12 minutes.

❥❥❥ Relationships/Dynamics:

Adamina: Ruthie’s best friend since childhood, she lives secluded from everyone due to her curse. Ruthie is determined to break it, wanting her friend to be happy and finally leave the castle she’s trapped in.

*The rest of their relationship/dynamic is currently unavailable, as the event Breaking Beauty: For True Love’s Cure! must be completed first

Trey Clover: Her and Trey are acquaintances, making small talk whenever they see each other. Though they work at rival bakeries, they don’t consider each other rivals. Their relationship is pleasant, if a bit awkward (on Trey’s end)

Riddle Rosehearts: She knows of him through Trey, but has never met him, Riddle unaware of her existence. She is curious about him though, and would like to meet him one day.

Che'nya: Her and Che'nya are acquaintances, having met through Trey. He makes it a point to see her whenever he comes home during break, curious to know how she’s been. Their relationship is lighthearted, with a nice friendship starting to form.

*All other relationships and dynamics are currently unavailable, as the event Breaking Beauty: For True Love’s Cure! must be completed first

*Please note that the artwork used for this post is a commission I got from a friend, and is not my own work!

Here she is, my Twisted Wonderland OC Ruthie! Since she is an NPC type character, she will have her own event, just like in game! This will allow her to meet the NRC boys (or at least some of them), and show her character/backstory.

The event will be called Breakaway Beauty: For True Love’s Cure!, and features Ruthie and her friend Adamina as the main characters (alongside Yuu and the boys of course lol)

*Please note that Ruthie is my OC, and this is her updated character introduction! I posted her original introduction on my old side blog, @sheepsgingerbreadfriends, which is no longer around!

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst oc #♡.ruthie #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #oc x canon

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13as07 · 18 days

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Elegant #1

(Shino Aburame)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to JUHiHUJi]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,502

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

It's a western theme wedding style cause I was lazy and didn't want to do research

Alcohol Use

———————————————————————

I let out another strained breath, glancing over my wedding dress in the body mirror again. What if Shino doesn't like the style? What if he's getting cold feet? What if he leaves me alone at the altar? What if -

"Wow," a voice says softly, drawing out the word. "You're so... beautiful." My sights jump up, glancing in the mirror to figure out who's behind me. Naruto's frame fills the mirror as he walks closer, settling behind me as his eyes jump over my dress. He's smiling ear to ear, with stars hanging in his eyes as he looks at me. "You're the second prettiest bride I've ever seen."

"Second?" I ask, smiling back at him.

"Ya, sorry but you can't beat out how pretty Hinata was at our wedding. She'll always hold that first place price."

I laugh at the love-struck newlywed. Hinata and Naruto got married two months ago, and I swear he still looks at her the way he did at their ceremony.

"Now, I know Sakura will drag me out by my ear if she catches me in here, the whole bad energy from seeing you - "

"That's only for the groom, Naruto. Groom's men aren't included in that," I correct, shifting around so we can face each other. My squadmate looks pretty nice when he gets dressed up, even if his hair is still messy and pointed every which way.

Naruto's cheeks dusty a slight pink as he rubs the back of his head. "Oh, right. Anyway, I remember the whole 'new, old, borrowed, blue' thing from my wedding. I don't know if you're doing that like Hinata did but I did bring you something blue just in case."

"I wasn't planning on it but I appreciate the thought, Naruto," I tell him, leaning forward to wrap my arms around him.

He wraps his arms around me too, being careful not to mess up my perfectly constructed look for my special day. "Anyway, you want to see my gift?"

"Yes, I do."

"Just so you know, this is fully from me. I did it - well Hinata stitched it - but it was fully my idea, all of it," Naruto rambles, digging through his pockets in search of my gift.

He tugs out a square cloth, the main color being a rich blue with the edges being his signature obnoxious orange color. Naruto holds it in front of me, letting the cloth tumble undone to its full size. It's no bigger than a napkin. In careful stitches is the quote 'Trust is knowing that when a squad mate pushes you, they're doing it because they care'.

"Naruto," I mumble, reaching forward to hold the ends of the cloth.

"Pretty nifty, huh? Hinata had a section of Neji's robe turned into a handkerchief, so I asked her to do the same with my old jacket. I figured you could pin it under your dress. If not that's cool too. Oh! And don't worry, Hinata cleaned the material like a bazillion times."

"Naruto," I call again, tears in my eyes as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck again. "You dumb gushy fox," I say with a smile and tears of appreciation.

"Do you not like it? Oh! Please don't cry, you're going to ruin your makeup," he rushes out, carefully slipping at the water that threatens to ruin the makeup I spent an hour on.

"I love it, Naruto," I tell him, smiling at him to send the point home. "You big goof. Would you pin it to my dress?" I ask, shifting my skirt around to figure out where I want it pinned.

"Of course! Let me go find a pin."

————————————

"Just some final touches," Sakura mumbles, running the makeup brush over my cheeks again. "Oh, and a few puffs of perfume," she says, jumping to her feet and rummaging around the table covered in different products.

"I can't wear perfume, you know that. It messes with Shino's kikaichus."

"So, you know how Shino has been queasy off and on the last couple of months?" She mumbles, now digging through her bag.

"Sakura," I utter, my tone warning because of the way our conversation is heading.

"Well, it's because Hinata and I have been testing different perfumes," She finishes, standing up with a small box in her hands.

"Sakura!"

"Oh calm down, it was only a handful of times and only a squirt or two every time. No Shinos and no kikaichus were harmed. Besides, it’s your wedding day. You should be wearing a new perfume to celebrate. It just so happens to be the only perfume that doesn't annoy or make your husband's parasites sick. Now come here and let me spray you down."

I roll my eyes at her but do get up from my spot. I twirl in a slow circle, letting Sakura coat me in the flower-scented perfume. "See? So much better, plus you can wear perfume more often since it doesn't mess with Shino."

"I guess so," I mutter, shaking my head at her. I swear Sakura never uses her brain outside of missions.

"Alright, I'll leave your fancy new scent here on the table," She says, making a show of putting it back in the box and leaving the box on the table. "We need to get going for your first look and such." Shino isn't much of an emotional man and is rarely emotional around other people, so we decided a private first look would be best.

She leads the way, my veil in her hold, held above her head so it doesn't drag on the ground as we head outside. "Wait here," she mutters after the short walk, stopping long enough to situate the clips of my veil into my hair.

Sakura slips away, leaving me to admire the cherry blossoms as she goes looking for my husband. I do just that, walking along the small path and toying with the heavy branches being weighed down by the weight of their blooms.

Enjoying the scenery helps with some of the anxiety surrounding today. I'm more than thrilled to spend the rest of my life with Shino, but it's still nerve-racking to think about all the things that could go wrong today, let alone the future.

"You don't always have to be such a lug!" Sakura's voice rings out after a few minutes, tugging my focus in the direction we came from earlier.

My best friend is dragging my very soon-to-be husband down the short path, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes to ensure he's not cheating. Shino looks nice, dressed fancy for once and his hair slicked back instead of loose and bushy like usual. "I do not see the point in doing this. I will see her when she walks down the aisle," he grumbles, slowly trudging after Sakura as she pulls him my way.

"I don't want you loosening your macho-ness because you burst into tears in front of everyone," I tease, causing his head to snap in the direction of my voice.

A group of his kikaichus slips out, eagerly flapping their way toward me. Some stay buzzing around me, with a few others clinging to different parts of my clothing. This has been a common thing during our relationship, Shino's bugs ditching him to investigate me or chew at a bit of my chakra. I freaked out the first time it happened but he insists they mean no harm and it helps him feel close to me. Since then, it's come to be something that calms me down, which I need with how loud my heartbeat seems to be.

"I would not and will not cry," he mumbles, stopping in the spot Sakura leaves him in.

"Lug," she murmurs before turning toward me. "I'm going to go make sure everything is settled. Once you two are done, send Shino in and come wait in the corridor, alright?"

"Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes."

With that, Sakura turns on her heels to head towards the waiting guests, leaving the two of us alone for the first time today. "You don't think you're going to cry when you see me?" I ask, reaching forward to toy with his sunglasses that Sakura slithered the blindfold under.

"No, I do not," he whispers, his hands sliding up to wrap around my arms, causing more of his kikaichus to spill out, coating both of our arms now.

I slowly slide my touch backward, taking my time to rest his glasses on his head before I tug at the knot keeping the cloth in place around his eyes. Once the cloth is loose, I take a step back, letting the material dangle from my fingertips.

Shino's eyes are squinted because of the setting sun. I knew they would be, but I want to see his whole reaction especially since this is something that won't happen again. His sight crawls around my body, falling down my dress like a waterfall before climbing back up my frame like a mountain. "Perhaps," he starts, voice cracking as he repeatedly blinks. "Perhaps, I was wrong."

Once the words are out, he breaks, tears rolling down his cheeks, chasing away the kikaichus that have been clinging to his face. Shino moves forward, enveloping me in his arms so he can hold me. "You look elegant, my Ladybug," he whispers into my hair, his little friends following their leader and knotting themselves in my locks.

When Shino pulls back, his focus shifts from me to helping his beetles untangle their legs, being careful not to mess up my hair and not to hurt his bugs. He spends the whole time trying to blink away the fresh tears forming in his eyes; he fails, forming water lines down his cheeks.

"Oh, Shino," I coo when he pulls the rest of the way apart from me. I cup his face, using my thumbs to brush away his tears. "You look very elegant too."

"Not as elegant as you, my dear," he mutters, leaning down to brush a kiss against my lips.

————————————

I shift my dress again, making sure it's laid perfectly as I wait for Kakashi to join me. There's about ten minutes until I'm expected to walk down the aisle with my Sensei giving me away to my husband, to my Shino. My nerves have evened out since our time together under the cherry blossoms, leaving me filled with nothing but joy.

"There's my gorgeous daughter-in-law," Shibi's soft voice calls from behind me.

I turn a bit, making sure not to mess up my carefully laid-out dress and my thin veil settled on top of it. I decided on a royal-length veil, more so because that's what Shino wanted than me, but it is his wedding as well. If he wants me to wear a long veil that trails behind me, I don't mind.

"You look lovely," Shibi compliments again, making his way forward. He stops in front of me, careful hands cupping my cheeks. He tilts my head down, brushing a gentle kiss to my hairline. "You are beautiful. The most beautiful bride my son could ask for."

"Thank you," I mutter, tilting my head back up so I can look at my father-in-law. A soft smile is on his face as he looks down at me. This is one of the few times I've seen Shibi truly content, which only solidifies my decision to marry his son. Shibi is the smartest man I know, and if he agrees with my decision it must be the right one.

"I have a gift for you, a temporary one," he mutters, pulling away from me. "Since Shino and you decided to have a night wedding, I figured a little extra glow would be nice," Shibi tells me, throwing up a few hand signals.

Soft flapping fills the space, a small squirm of bugs following the command they were given. "What are you doing?" I ask, tilting my head backward, watching the bugs settle in a neat line along the hem of my veil.

"Watch," he orders, shifting his hand placement to send out another command.

The bugs shift their wings, a soft glow coming from them, decorating my veil with the soft yellow coloring. "Shibi!" I call in joy, lunging forward to catch him in a hug. "It's beautiful! Thank you."

"You're welcome," he utters, unclinging my arms from around him. Shibi isn't much of a touchy person, a trait his son inherited too. "After the ceremony, I'll need them back, of course."

"Of course," I echo, sending him another smile.

He nods his head, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. "I should get seated before the ceremony begins. I look forward to seeing you walk down the aisle," Shibi mutters, nodding his head once more before he slips around the corner, heading into the crowd that's eagerly waiting for me to enter.

I adjust my dress again, carefully toying with my veil so I don't hurt or knock off any of the lightening bugs clinging to it. I have a few moments of silence, giving my anxiety the chance to crawl into my rib cage again. After today, Shino and me will be bound together forever, until the end of our time.

"There you are," my Sensei calls, pulling me out of my head. "I didn't know you were done getting ready yet." He mutters, adjusting the pin-comb that's holding my veil in place. "You look like an angel."

"You don't look too bad yourself," I tease, glancing over Kakashi's put-together look. It's weird seeing my Sensei out of his usual outfit.

He rolls his eyes, letting out a disapproving hum. Despite the small banter, Kakashi still leans forward, resting the side of his head against mine with his arms loosely wrapped around me. "The lightning bugs are a nice touch," he whispers, squeezing me before he tugs himself away.

"They're a temporary gift from Shibi."

"Well, I have a permanent gift for you. Just don't tell the others, they might get jealous."

"Ya?" I ask, watching Sensei dig through his pockets, the familiar sound of our training bells filling the air when he tugs them out of his pocket.

Kakashi hums again, giving me a rare masked and closed-eyed smile. "Naruto gave you his gift already, yes?" He asks, clinking the bells so they'll ring again.

"Yes, he did," I answer, lifting a layer of my dress to show off the handkerchief Naruto pinned to my dress.

He nods again, bending down so he can kneel on the ground. Kakashi works carefully, unlike my clumsy squad mate. Sensei moves slowly, unpinning the handkerchief and laying it on his knee so he can wrap his bells around the pin before pinning both items under my dress again. "There, now you'll have all three of us attached to you during the night."

"When did you get all gushy?" I tease, shaking my leg a bit. You can't hear the bells around the fabric but I can feel their imprint against me.

"When Naruto got married, and again now. I'm sure it'll happen again when Sakura and Sasuke get married too," Kakashi answers, straightening up before taking his spot next to me. "Are you ready to do this?" He asks, prompting his arm out toward me.

"As ready as ever," I answer, clinging to the bend of his elbow.

"That's my girl," he mutters, poking his head around the corner to send Sakura the signal that we're ready.

————————————

Shino's hands cling to me for dear life, his social anxiety at an all-time high as he spins us in slow, small circles. His left-hand grips mine, his ring digging into my fingers, threatening to leave an imprint. His right-hand rests on my waist, clinging to the material of my dress. "I despise dancing," he mutters, focus flickering around the millions of eyes watching us have our first dance.

"I know."

"Everyone is watching us."

"I know."

"You are my wife now."

"You are my husband now," I echo, shifting forward, I loop my arms around his neck, laying his head on my shoulder. Shino gratefully takes the change, his arms tight around my waist and his nose buried into my neck.

We sway, still moving in slow circles around the dance floor. "I will not be dancing again tonight," he whispers into my neck, the feeling of his kikaichus exploring the new position, little legs tugging at the material of my dress.

"I know, I appreciate you doing this though."

"Of course, Ladybug."

Shino reluctantly pulls away from me as the song comes to an end, fresh tears raining on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask, hands jumping up to wipe away his tears before anyone else notices.

"Nothing, my dear," he answers, fingers wrapping around mine to pull them away from his face. "You... are perfect," he mutters, glancing around before quickly pressing a kiss to my fingertips. "Can we go sit now?"

"Yes we can," I murmur, smiling from ear to ear as my husband tugs me off the dance floor.

Cheers from the guests fill the room, a few of them jumping up from their spots to take up the dance floor as the next song starts. Kiba and Naruto are beaming from the head table, as are my bridesmaids; Sakura and Hinata. "Our baby is all grown up!" Kiba cheers, Hinata giggling and nodding in agreement.

"Be quiet," Shino mumbles, helping me into my chair before he sits down alongside me. Once we're situated, his hand messes with my dress, ruffling my layers in search of a small amount of skin on skin. "What's that?" He asks as his fingertips slide over the pinned presents from my squad mates, head tilting down to glance at the items.

"Bells from my Sensei and a handkerchief from Naruto," I answer, helping him move my dress out of the way.

He hums softly, fingertips digging into my knee as he clings to it. His thumb slides over my knee on repeat, a kikaichu or two crawling over his fingers, occasionally dipping down and crossing my knee. "You are perfect," he repeats, sending me a rare smile before turning to hell at Kiba again.

I smile to myself, soaking in the repeated compliment. "Well, Mrs. Aburame," Sakura teases, a huge smile on her face as well. "What does it feel like being officially married now?"

"Wonderful."

————————————

Sakura and I belt out jumbled lyrics of the song playing, the liquor in our system commanding our dancing with both of our wet blankets of partners watching. Sasuke and Shino are sat near each other, both men's full attention on us as we dance. "What do you think they're thinking right now?" She asks, her arms dangling over my shoulders as we move in beat with each other.

"Well, knowing Sasuke he's probably talking himself out of killing me and Shino might have one or two more songs in him before he gets clingy again."

Sakura lets out a loud cackle, the alcohol chipping away the bubbly cute persona she tries to maintain. Her laughter only increased when Shino starts heading our way. "You're wrong about Sasuke but it seems you were right about Shino."

"Right about what?" My husband asks, impatience in his voice as he stands next to us, both of us still swaying to the music.

"About you wanting my attention," I answer, pulling away from my friend to wrap Shino up in my arms.

"That is not what I want," he mutters, staying still as I squeeze him in my hold. "I wish for us to go home. I would like some alone time with my wife," Shino airs out the last word like he can't comprehend being able to use it.

"What kind of alone time?" I ask, sliding my hands up to toy with the ends of his hair, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

"Just... alone time," he whispers, a hint of pink dust on his cheeks. "Should I have it announced that the ceremony is over?"

"Have them announce the party is over in thirty minutes," I mutter back, letting my arms fall to his shoulders, leaning myself against my husband. I tip my head up, lips brushing against his ear as I speak. "If you can't wait thirty minutes I'd be more than happy to give you a little... support." I let a hum out, flickering my eyes down.

Shino's face is full red now, mouth gapping a bit. "That is not... we cannot... Ladybug," he stutters, as flustered with my straightforwardness as ever. "I am... that is something I have been excited about today, but that... that is an at-home activity."

"I know, I'm just teasing."

He lets out a sigh of relief, gently pulling me off of him. "Your mind is lacking the elegance the rest of you possess."

"I know."

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #shino oneshot #shino x reader #shino aburame oneshot #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

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Valentine's Day Bingo: Paint - OA Zidan x Reader (NSFW)

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Hitting Bingo Square: Body Paint

You’re different from the other women Omar’s been with, in bed and out of it. You’re teach him about sensuality, that sex doesn’t have to be a race to the finish, it’s about connection and intimacy.

Your confidence has built since the first time he took you to bed. He’d been honoured that you had chosen to take that step with him, he knows how hard it can be to give yourself someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability.

There’s a playfulness in you tonight, he’d seen it in your eyes when he’d unwrapped the gift you’d brought home this afternoon. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone when you had set it down in front of him.

“Body paint.” He had uttered, studying the box with interest before you’d taken his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

You undress him slowly, his forehead resting against yours as your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. It plays out like a seduction, gentle fingertips and teasing kisses gracing his skin until he finds himself splayed out upon a set of old sheets you’ve laid down especially for the occasion.

He’s a masterpiece, your man. All of that firm muscle and bare skin. His arm is thrown up above his head as he watches you with those beautiful dark eyes of his. He’s hard already, his cock leaking onto his stomach because the feel of your hands on his body…

It ruins him.

You start with orange, a tiny dab with the soft brush. The paint feels cool on underside of his bicep as you guide the brush over his flesh. It’s a pleasurable feeling, light and teasing. He makes a noise in the back of his throat as you allow the paintbrush to trail down his shoulder, following the line of his collarbone until you reach the centre of his chest.

“How does it feel?” You ask him, pausing to reapply more paint to your brush.

“Good.” He says, his voice a little rough. “Relaxing.”

“You have been a little tense over the past couple of days, I thought it might be a fun way to diffuse some of that.” You say distractedly as you swirl the paintbrush over his sensitive skin.

“It’s working.” He mumbles, his hips arching just a little as you doodle down the centre of his chest.

You take your time with him, using his body like your canvas until he’s needy and wanting. When your tongue runs over the tip of his cock, a moan tears from his throat. He tilts his head to look at you, those pretty lips of yours wrapping his dick as your gaze meets his.

“Hanna…” He warns you because the build up it’s been too much and the sensation of your mouth, it’s overstimulating, it drives him right to the pinnacle of ecstasy and he just can’t stop himself.

You pull your mouth away from his cock with a lewd pop, your palm replacing it. It barely takes more than a couple motions before he’s coming, his release spilling over your hand and across his stomach in thick spurts.

It takes him a couple of minutes to catch his breath but when he does Omar finds himself laughing as he stares down at the artwork that covers his body. He’s never felt as free as he does with you, so light, so content. He smiles as you lay down alongside of him in your underwear, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he whispers.

“It’s your turn.”

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soft-for-them · 1 year

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Hidden away - Týr x plus size reader

Summary: Whilst searching for a suitable breakfast you happen to come across the old god of war and justice hidden away.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: This gif does not match with the story but there isn't many God of War Ragnarök gifs out there (understandable because the game just came out) and for some reason I don't like using still images. ALSO I haven't finished the game (someone has already spoiled it for me which is annoying) so don't spoil even more for me or anyone else thank you. I'm already thinking of a part two if people want it.

“Sindri!” you grumble as you finally come out your cocoon that is you little bedroom.

You’ve hastily put on a blue overdress, the same one you were wearing all day yesterday, with a fresh long sleeved underdress on of course. The big golden broaches that hold up the straps of the dress, one made by each of your brothers (you were adopted well after they were born but they still insist you are apart of their family) with the Huldra symbol moulded into each of the shiny metal rounds are the only clean part of your outfit, your dress covered in powdered paint and glue now dried clear.

Need to say you really need to give your dress a good scrub.

Bare feet hit the shallow steps that were really made only for your brother’s short stature lead down to the open planed ground floor, your bones clicking as you smooth down your clothes over your curves, not bothering to do your hair quite yet.

“Sindri!” you call again this time a bit louder as you head to the kitchen area.

The last you saw of your bother he had quickly popped into your bedroom, which is also your workroom where you paint your murals. He had excuse himself for he was going to go help young Atreus and his father. He said something about Tyr and Brok but really half of it went in one ear and out the other for you were painting and not paying attention to your non blue brother.

You lazily look around for some food to eat whilst also seeing who’s around, Sindri did say he’d be back with Brok, Atreus and Kronos but the tree house is awfully quiet without the bickering of your dwarven brothers along with the clinking of metal tools.

For a moment you stop and look around, you debate calling out again but you don’t.

Instead you find an apple to eat, a bruised one but an apple all the same. You don’t want to be cooking, it’s too early and you’re not the best at it (seem it runs in the family), so you take a big bite out the red and yellow fruit frowning at the chalky texture.

“Where are the porridge oats?” you wonder out loud as you rummage around for the food.

Porridge may not be the first or second thing you’d want to eat in the morning for its awfully bland on its own (and you still want to do as little as possible because you’re tired and in need to finish your painting) but you search for it anyway.

Mediocre apple half eaten you wonder over to the doors leading to what you assume is a pantry, well you thought it was.

You see this isn’t your home, well it is now that the end of times is coming but you didn’t live here before fimblewinter.

Before you lived out in a remote cabin in the middle of the woods living off the land and painting your artwork in peace. Now you cramped in your brother’s spare room for he insisted you move in with him when a group of raiders attacked you home.

“Brok?” you call out. Brok always shouts at you back, he’s your older brother and he loves you but he finds you and your shouting annoying. Sindri would say that you’re just as bad as each other with all the shouting and swearing, two peas in a pod but Brok insists you aren't.

You hear no shouting of your blue brother so you push open the door of what you think is a pantry the thing only open just a bit enough to squish you plush body through. It takes another budge from your shoulder to push the door inwards more, the something that once blocked the door moving away.

Either you’ve become very strong or whatever was blocking the door walked itself backwards.

“What the?” you whisper to yourself as you peak down around the door not see a random box or a weapon that Brok has left around, no, you see a big foot.

Eyes gone wide you slowly look up to see a man, a giant man, a man you have never seen in your entire life before waking up from his make sift bed in the small storage room.

Long dark hair drapes over his face that’s very sleepy looking, his glowing eyes barley open with little bits of sleepy in the corners as he peers up to you.

You want to act on instinct, grab the nearest blunt heavy object and throw it at him followed by running away but his eyes pool with confusion like a animal who has encountered a lost human in the middle of the woods only to run away themselves.

You assume you’ve just woke him up by barging in, his foot obviously being the object you though you moved to open the door just a bit.

You hope you haven’t hurt him in anyway.

“Who are you?” you ask in a stern but quiet voice, not wanting to scare away the giant man who now sits up from his slump.

“I could ask the same thing.” his voice makes you shiver, a warmth travels up your neck.

“I live here thank you very much.”

Already your eyes look the man up and down, his height sitting up taller than your brothers at full height, he must be a giant or part giant you think. The only part giant you’ve met is Atreus and well, Thor as well but you do not like to talk about that.

“Are you a giant?” you ask as you step a bit closer, your body now over the door frame, you now fully into the small room.

“Giant, do you mean Jötnar?” his voice, though laced with a sleepy croak one has when you’ve just awoken, sounds almost playful but also wise.

“I’m sorry, Jötnar, I’ve been around Brok and Sindri too long to remember the proper names for everything-“ you’re babbling but you do so to justify you slip up of calling him a giant, “I’m a human but technically I’m a Midgardian, I do not mean any offence.”

“I don’t take any-“ he talks with his hands, he moves them in a certain motion urging you to give him your name.

“(Y/n). Sister of Brok and Sindri.”

Holding out your hand and despite him sitting down he easily returns the greeting. His large hand wraps around your forearm, his digits squishing your soft skin lightly, his touch light as a feather like he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. You wrap your own hand around his forearm, your own fingers aching as they stretch around the wide width of his arm.

He goes to part from your greeting but you grip on his arm pulling on it like you intend to pull him up off the floor. You know you can’t, you’re not that strong, but it’s a kind gesture to say 'here, I can help you up' to the tall man.

When you were little and smaller than your brothers you’d try pulling them up despite not being able too, they’d get up just fine but they were always thankful for the so called ‘help’. Maybe it’s a childish thing to do, especially to a stranger, but the part Jötnar man looks so tired, so in himself like he doesn’t know who he is.

He pulls himself up just fine, your hand still lingering on his arm. He does not mind, he actually likes the feeling.

“Sister?” he asks.

“Adopted.” You say back with a smile.

“Ah. I see.” He looks down at you with his glowing eyes, not a bad emotion crossing his eyes as he looks at you, “I’m Tyr by the way.”

You mind runs wild.

Atreus and Kronos succeeded in freeing him!

“Well Tyr, would you like some breakfast-“ you raise you other hand that still hold the half eaten apple, “- I was looking for something more substantial to eat than this apple.”

“I would be grateful for one, I-I haven’t had a good breakfast in quite a while.”

#god of war #god of war ragnorak #god of war x reader #tyr god of war #tyr god of war x reader #tyr x reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader

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