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#the palette is just. apple. help
wist-eri · 3 months
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part two of redswap AU chaos (first part with blossom + frisk here)
first we have ceroba! she swaps with toriel in this au or uh. appleroba. yeah (if you have questions about her, ask away. i think i have a general idea of how her character is so)
and we have the pleiades! equivalent of the ruins in rswap
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these are the full concept arts that i did for pleiades! also a color test though, to get a sense of the atmosphere
and, little doodle teasing one of the characters i’m making a ref of next :)
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yeah i am. fully down this. rabbit hole. help
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harrysfolklore · 16 days
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vogue beauty secrets - jacob elordi blurb
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
YN's Guide to Glowing Skin and Easy Everyday Makeup
"Hey everyone, It's YN," you said as you stood in your bathroom, face bare of any products and a comfortable top on, "I'm going to be talking you through my skincare routine and my everyday makeup look."
"Just so you guys know, it's really early over here," you said as you took out your products from your skincare bag, "My boyfriend is still sleeping I think," you smiled at the mention of him, "You might know him from his bathwater in the movie Saltburn, I don't know if you're familiar with that."
Playfully talking about each other in interviews was a really common thing for both of you and Jacob to do, and fans absolutely loved it.
"So first things first, gotta cleanse the face," you showed your cleanser to the camera and then applied it to your face smoothly and washed it off, "Now this face mask, has gotten me more compliments about my skin than anything else I've ever used, even Jacob is obsessed with it and steals it from me all the time," you couldn't help but mention him again, "So I will do a generous amount, which is like pea size for me."
You applied the face mask all over your face and waited 15 minutes to take it off and move on to your makeup.
"Before applying any makeup, we need to put sunscreen on," you showed the bottle to the camera, "I never leave the house without this, I have one in my bag at all times. It's so important."
You rubbed the product all over your face, making sure to cover every inch of your skin correctly.
"So, let's start," you grabbed your makeup bag and took your foundation out, "I'm obsessed with this illuminous silk foundation, I discovered one time I visited Jacob on the Euphoria set and I saw the makeup artists using it, it has been my go to ever since."
You grabbed your pink beauty blender and gently applied the foundation on your face, getting closer to the camera to show the process better.
"I learned how to do my makeup by watching how other people did it," you said as you applied the product on your nose, "I think I've gotten very good at it, or at least I would like to believe so."
"Now, It's time for concealer," you showed the product to the camera, "We're running low people, someone might be stealing some from me," you said as you tried to grab the most product you could and applied it under your eyes, "Okay, concealer is done, now let's do some contour."
Just as you grabbed your brush to apply the contour, you heard some noises coming from the bedroom, "Guys I think Jacob just woke up," you said as you moved the brush around your face, "So we have to be very quiet so he doesn't crash my video, okay?"
You heard the bedroom door open and some footsteps down the stairs, and you guessed that Jacob was looking for you in the kitchen.
"Alright, contour is done," you continued in a hushed tone, "Now, let's move on to blush." You picked up a peachy blush and lightly applied it to the apples of your cheeks, blending it out with your fingers. "I love this blush because it gives such a natural flush to the cheeks, perfect for everyday wear."
Next, you reached for a neutral eyeshadow palette and selected a soft brown shade. "For my everyday makeup look, I like to keep it simple on the eyes," you explained as you applied the eyeshadow to your lids, blending it into the crease. "Just a wash of color so I don't look completely dead."
"Now, for my favorite part - mascara," you exclaimed as you held up a mascara tube, "I think mascara is a game-changer. It instantly opens up your eyes and makes you look more awake."
You applied a few coats of mascara to your lashes, making sure to cover from the roots to the tips.
"YN?" you heard Jacob's voice calling for you, making you instantly laugh.
"I don't know if you guys heard, but Jacob is calling for me," you said as you checked your mascara in the mirror, "Let's ignore him until he figures out I'm here."
"Now, last but not least, lips," you said as you grabbed a nude lipstick. "I like to keep it natural with a nude shade for everyday wear." You applied the lipstick to your lips, finishing off the look.
Just on cue as you applied the last touched of lipstick, you heard the bedroom door creak open behind you. You turned around to see Jacob standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted him with a smile, trying to stifle a giggle at his sleepy state.
"Morning, love," Jacob blinked a few times, trying to wake up fully, "What are you up to?"
"I'm filming a skincare and makeup video for Vogue," you explained, motioning to the camera set up on the counter. "I was just finishing up, actually."
Jacob walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at the camera.
"Oh, am I interrupting?" he asked, glancing at the camera with a devilish grin.
"Just a little," you chuckled, "But it's okay, you can join if you want."
"Nah, I'll let you finish," Jacob leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "I'll just be in the background, quietly judging your makeup skills," he teased, earning a playful swat from you.
"Hey, I'll have you know, I've gotten pretty good at this," you said, pretending to be offended.
"I know, I know," Jacob laughed, planting another kiss on your cheek, "You always look beautiful, even without makeup," he said sweetly.
You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "Thank you, babe, you're really sappy," you replied softly, turning to give him a quick kiss.
"I'll let you finish your video. I'll make us some breakfast," he called out as he disappeared from view.
"Well, it looks like I've got breakfast waiting for me," you turned back to the camera, a smile still lingering on your lips, "I better wrap this up," you said to the camera, giving a little wave. "Thanks for watching, and thank you Vogue for having me, I hope some of this beauty tips are helpful for all of you. Bye!"
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candysims4 · 8 months
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SWEET TOOTH SET
Oh my gosh, I am so excited about this new set and finally releasing it! I seriously can't get enough of these pieces - they're just so cute! Every little detail is lovely, from the bow in the hair to the hearts on the nails.
AS IT’S TOO MUCH TEXT, I’LL LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM PLUS THE CREATOR’S NOTES BELOW THE CUT.
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ALL ITEMS ARE:
TEEN TO ELDER
BASE GAME COMPATIBLE
MADE FOR FEMALE FRAME
DISALLOWED FOR RANDOM
360º GIF & THUMBNAILS (HOSTED IN IMGUR)
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MY SITE (NO AD.FLY): BONBON HAIR | APPLE PIE NAILS (TWO VERSIONS) | BISCUITS EARRINGS | CHERRY TART DRESS (TWO VERSIONS) Free release on 17th October 2023
PATREON EARLY ACCESS + MERGED OPTIONS
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TERMS OF USE | SEND YOUR FEEDBACK | REPORT AN ISSUE
Thanks to all the cc creators that I used in the pic. And thanks to @maxismatchccworld, @simblrcollective, @s4library​, @wewantmods​, and everybody who reblog this post!
If you’re a cc finds and want to be tagged when I post, please, let me know. You can send me an ask or in DM.
With your help, more people can know about my work! 💖 Love you all, XOXO 💖
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DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM:
BONBON HAIR
HAT GAME INCOMPATIBLE
6.476 POLYGONS
119 SWATCH COLORS - 24 plain colors from EA Color Palette - 95 plain colors from my Candy Color Palette
YOU WILL FIND IN LONG HAIR OR/AND STRAIGHT OR/AND UPDO
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APPLE PIE NAILS (TWO VERSIONS) Same colors description for both versions.
1.320 POLYGONS
113 SWATCH COLORS - 55 plain colors - 58 color combinations
YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/FINGERNAILS
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BISCUITS EARRINGS
360 POLYGONS
10 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors
YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/EARRINGS
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CHERRY TART DRESS (TWO VERSIONS) Same colors description for both versions.
5.446 POLYGONS
55 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors
YOU WILL FIND IN FULL BODY/SHORT DRESS
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CREATOR’S NOTES:
Let's start with my favorite item of the set, Bonbon Hair. It's the cutest hair I've ever created, and I'm really proud of it. The bow is adorable, and I was finally able to make a great 3D model of it. I'm really happy with how the hair looks - it's exactly what I had in mind. I hope you love it too! One thing to note is that the bow on Bonbon Hair isn't removable and won't work with hats. Usually, I prefer hairstyles that can be worn with hats, but for this one, I needed more space for the bow's texture. I also drew the bow's shadow onto the hair's texture to give it more depth and a better overall look. I also made sure to keep the polycount low - around 6k polygons. I could have made it lower, but it didn't look as good in movement. So, I kept it at a higher polycount to maintain good movement without too much distortion.
I designed the dress to complement the hairstyle, adding a bow at the back for an extra touch of charm and romance. I used a new mesh from the latest kit that I couldn't wait to franken-meshing with it. My goal was to create a vintage silhouette and style, and while I'm not sure if it was successful, I'm very happy with the final result. At the end of the day, it looks cute, and that's all that really matters.
The nails are a kind of old wip that I finally decided to finish. It's one of the cutest designs I've ever come across, and I was determined to recreate it in The Sims. I love a stiletto design, and for me, one of the best nail art is this one; it matches the nail's format and is so cute. The nail includes two color options but only one spec option. However, I plan to create additional versions in the future, including a glossy and matte finish, possibly as part of a mini set that I'm working on that will have this and other versions of some of my recent clothing designs.
Next up, we have the Biscuits Earrings. These were originally a work in progress meant for a different set, but while I was styling the Sims, I realized how well they matched with the current Sweet Tooth Set. So, I quickly finished them up and included them as part of the set.
By now, it's all. Unfortunately, I've been working very slowly lately; thanks to this heat wave, I feel most of the day like I'm melting. It's scorching in here, guys. I don't understand how a person can say global warming is a lie; really, how?!
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sugawhaaa · 17 days
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SEONGHWA X READER
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{Chapter one}
Blue paint red apple
Warnings:: mentions of guns and swords/abusive relationship
Pairing:: pirate!Seonghwa x princess!reader
Genre::pirate AU, ur fiance is clearly jealous LOL
A/N::I got this idea from a character of janitor ai so credits for the inspiration: marshwa4! I don't have this story fully planned out but I know it'll work out and PLEASE TRUST ME IT LOOKS SUPER STEREOTYPICAL AND CRINGE BUT JUST READ THE FIRST 3 PARAGRAPHS ITLL GET BETTER‼️
REMINDER‼️ this isn't 100% historically accurate and should be taken with a grain of salt. This story is also set in the late 1800s to early 1900s specifically in Europe but if you want you can imagine it wherever else you'd like, it is a fictional story after all 💗
Park Seonghwa wasn't an uncommon name to hear around the kingdom. It was more of a fairy tale name than anything. Stories of his rebellious and vicious acts travel around villages and kingdoms quickly. He has been seen by many royalty and merchants but rarely caught. Officials estimate that he's killed over 400 people in his 2 years of being a pirate, with the help of his crew of course.
You were much too concerned with your citizens to care about politics and things. Being the second heir to the throne meant that you didn't have to worry about politics or officials, you were worried about your people. You were a big part of one of the children's schools. A few times a week you'd head down to the children's school and teach them some things about being a princess and simply just hang out with the kids. That was pretty much the entire highlight of your life.
Most of the time you spend in your castle. You didn't really have duties to attend to and you didn't have many friends. Most people your age were too scared to talk to you.
You sat in your room painting a massive canvas in a soft green dress, a little apron over your body to protect your expensive dress from getting ruined. You held your palette in one hand and the paintbrush in the other. You step back to look at the entire canvas, a sad sigh escaping your lips. Disappointment in your eyes. The maid in the corner comes to your side.
"Is everything alright princess?" She asks kindly.
"Yes, quite alright," you say as you put down your palette and brush. You take off your apron and hand it to the maid. "I'm going for a walk around the village," you say as you leave your room. You go downstairs to see your fiance and father talking by the doorway. You stop your hurried steps and go down the stairs cautiously and gracefully, switching your persona. "Prince Herrington," you say as you approach your soon-to-be husband. He bows to you and you force yourself to swallow your pride and curtsy.
"Where are you headed?" Herrington asks with his chin up, looking down at you.
"I'm going out to retrieve some…" you paused and tried to speak while looking at his dispiteful face. "Paint," you nod and Herrington looks at you suspiciously.
He stands to the left of the door and holds it open for you. You walk out with a respectful nod towards him before heading for the village streets. You gaze around the streets taking in the Seabreeze and fresh air. You stop by one merchant who seems to be painting. You look at his table to see paints and hand-carved palettes. Once he notices your presence he stands up and bows.
"Princess Y/N, it is an honor," he says as he sits back down. "What can I offer you?" He says eagerly with a smile. You spot one beautiful blue paint and pick up the bottle.
"Could I have this? How much would it be?" You ask kindly.
"Free of cost for royalty," he says with an eager smile. You look at the bottom of the bottle to see £1.75. You toss him two pounds before walking off.
"Keep the change," you smile with a gentle wave. You turn to continue your walk before bumping into someone, stumbling backward from their force. You dust off your dress. "Excuse me," you say with a displeased expression as you look up to see a tanned-skinned man with his hair slicked back. Your lips parted in shock from such an exotic-looking man. He looked down at you with a blank expression.
"Pardon," he says in a rough voice. He leans down slightly to reach your height. "My, aren't you a rare sight," he says as leans closer. Your breath quickens as you step back a little. He picks up an apple from the stand next to you. He takes an aggressive bite as he examines you. You're at a loss for words as he analyzes you, his gaze heavy and lustful.
"Y-You're going to pay for that right," you raise an eyebrow at him and he looks down at the apple, standing up straight again. He tosses it behind him and a short and scruffy man catches it, his teeth gold and rotted as he smiles at the apple.
"And if I don't?" He crosses his arms with a little smirk. You adjust your dress and try to stand tall to him. You open your mouth to speak before stopping. "Cat got your tongue princess?" He chuckles as he looks down at you.
"You will pay for it. I command you to," you frown and cross your arms. He puts his arms down and scoffs.
"You command me to? Oh~ I'm scared," he says as he tosses a few coins to the merchant who stands there distraught.
"You should be," you say before instantly regretting your words, realizing how stupid you sound.
"Oh you're so cute," he chuckles and your cheeks grow pink. His eyes flutter down from your pink cheeks to your neck. His smirk faded to a stern look as he followed the chain around your neck, to the top of your dress, his eyes ever so slightly peering down your dress. You cover your chest and look away from him. He puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close. You gasp and put your hands on his chest. He notices a ring on your ring finger, silver with a blue gem in the center of it. He lets go of your waist and grabs your wrist, examining the ring on your finger.
You look at him sternly and he looks into your eyes. His eyes suddenly avert behind you to see a few soldiers. "I look forward to this," he smirks when the soldiers come up behind you.
"Who is this?" Herrington says in a loud voice, trying to stand his ground. You sigh and turn around to look at your Fiancé. You force a smile as you look at him.
"He's just a man I bumped into by accident," you chuckle with an innocent smile, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
"Let go of my wife," Herrington says in a strong voice trying to intimidate the man holding you. The man scoffed and let your hand down.
"I'm not your wife," you mumble and the strange man looks at you with curious eyes. Herrington grabs you and examines you carefully.
"Are you alright Y/N?" He says as he runs his hands over your body. You look away from him.
"I'm alright," you say in a lifeless tone. Herrington holds you close to him as a soldier points a gun at the man. You look concerned as they point the gun at him.
"What's with the guns~?" He mocks as he puts his hands on his hips. "I haven't done anything wrong, I paid for my food, I conversed with the princess for a moment, and now I'm on my merry way," he says as he turns around putting his hands up.
"He's right," you nod up at Herrington.
"He's armed!" Herrington calls out and gestures to the sword case on his left hip. The man quickly grabs the sword and points it at the soldiers. The dull wooden tip pointing to their guns.
"It's wood," he chuckles. "I use it to teach kids how to use swords," he laughs and puts the sword back in its case before walking off to find his crew of men who ran away earlier. Herrington encourages you to come back with him to the castle as he reminds you to never go outside without protection. As you walk back you look down at your ring, the blue gem glistening in the sunlight.
[Time skip]
That night you lay in bed. Your hand is raised above your head as you admire the ring. A maid rolls in a tray with tea and biscuits on it. "I heard about your encounter with Seonghwa earlier today," the maid says as she waits for you to sit up. You fix your nightgown and look at her surprised.
"Seonghwa? Like the pirate?" You ask confused as she offers you the teacup.
"Yes, princess. I was told by Prince Herrington that he was holding you in the street, interrogating you," she says in a worried tone as you take a sip of your tea.
"He didn't seem like Seonghwa, I thought he was just some man," you say as you look at the specs of leaves in your tea. "He was very well dressed for a pirate," you explain before looking at the maid. She takes your cup and offers you a small plate of biscuits. "I guess that explains his inappropriate behavior," you sigh before taking a bite of the biscuit.
"Oh? If you don't mind me asking, princess, what did he do?" The maid sits next to you on the bed. You clear your throat and prepare to speak.
"He looked down the top of my chest," you say as you rub your upper chest and the maid's eyes widen.
"Oh my," she gasps. "How vile, I'm so sorry for you," she says as she places her hand on your leg comfortingly. You shrug and pick up the teacup. "Well, you need to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. I'll be in my room if you need anything," she says before wheeling the trolls back out to the hallway, closing the door behind herself. You finish your tea and look at the canvas in the corner of your room. How different things would be if you hadn't gone out today, if you hadn't got mad at your painting, what would've happened? You sigh blow out your candle and lie down.
Your mind races with the memories of Seonghwa. His eyes, his touch, his voice when he spoke to you, the way his body was drawn to you like a magnet, his lips inches from yours. You daydreamed about someday meeting him again...
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sunkissedbedard · 13 days
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fortnight [ethan edwards x reader]
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a/n: hey lovelies !!! AHH this is my first LONG fic and smut piece. please be nice, i am new to writing smut so cut your girl some slack !! i really enjoyed writing this & a big thank you to @homestylehughes for proofreading for me !!! i hope you enjoy and please remember to reblog creators works !! 🫶🏻
summary: i love you, it’s ruining my life
warnings: smut 18+: oral (m&f receiving), fingering, p in v protected sex
word count: 7.9k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it may be an understatement to some, but you loved the back to school season. with the transition into autumn as the environment's colour palette turned from vibrant greens, to warm browns and yellows, you found yourself content as the pumpkin spice and apple pie scents cascaded through the atmosphere.
walking across the campus as the dried leaves crunched underneath you, you mindlessly took in your surroundings, observing your fellow students and seeing the excitement fall upon their faces as new friendships blossomed, and friendships rekindled after spending the last few months back to where their stories were created.
your headphones were plugged in, allowing you to enter a trance of tranquillity, finding all your worries in the world disappear into an abyss. you were relieved, given your last semester, you were faced with an unkind welcoming that most people would question you for being so dismissive of.
ethan edwards, 5’11 defenseman for the university of michigan’s hockey team. enrolled in the same physiology class last term, the pair of you were assigned partners at the start of the semester for your final examination project, which entitled you to countless hours outside of class to be spent together. and maybe that wasn’t something you would complain about initially.
the close proximity your assignment brought upon you, may have been a blessing in disguise, but neither ethan or you were going to be the ones to admit it. the brunette had caught your eye when he entered the classroom shortly after it had begun, looking out of breath as if he had sprinted to the lecture hall. there was no denying you felt your stomach do a summersault when you found your name printed next to his, looking up and meeting his eyes as you followed from where his finger had pointed. and when you first began the foundational stages of the project, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the flutter you felt in your chest when he’d chuckle at something you said, or got caught gazing into your eyes a second too long for anyone to consider there was no chemistry.
as the project unfolded, and you began scheduling times within the week to work on the requirements, you noticed yourself more frequently checking the day and time of the week, anticipating the moment you would meet the brunette again. you mentally frowned upon yourself, he was just another one of your classmates, you questioned yourself, why was he so different than all the rest? 
maybe it was the way he’d wait for you after the class had a quiz or midterm if he finished before you, or would always save you a seat in the classroom, every single class, or even when he copied his notes from the days you missed class from being sick with strep throat.
you had to convince yourself he was just another one of those hockey players. they had that natural charisma, he was used to charming the ladies, society had just instilled that hockey players drew all the attention, and there was just something so intriguing about them.
you had come to realize the impact his hockey commitment had on his academic availability was a bit heavier than you had anticipated, so when he had missed a meetup one week without informing you, he received a lengthy message about punctuality and responsibility, which earned you your favourite drink and dessert as an apology.
you knew hockey players though, you had family immersed in the community and when you began your continuing education, you made a promise to yourself to steer clear of hockey players at all cost. however, that was inevitable, considering UMich had quite the popularity surrounding the NCAA hockey team. you’d hear about the team from your roommates and classmates, about the big win from the night before, or how a player made a stylish play, it’s as though it suffocated you, which led you to think that was the reason ethan left you so entranced by his presence. 
you didn’t want to like him, but your heart cried out to you when there was unexpected rain in the weather forecast, and you ended up arriving to the project meeting drenched by mother nature. ethan immediately rushed to you, asking about what had happened and if you were okay. he insisted that you take his navy blue hoodie that had a yellow “M” embroidered into the front, with his number 73 stitched into the arm. much to your dismay, he pushed past your protests, and forced you to change into the warm, dry piece of fabric, that you hated to admit smelt like the best cologne you could ever imagine. 
you went home that night thinking about all the encounters you had ensued with ethan, and a tiny seed had planted in your imagination, that maybe he was acting in a way that was more than a group-project partner, more than a friend who simply looked out for you. maybe he was different, there were so many questions that raced through your mind when he appeared in your head, that you considered letting your hockey player-driven guard down.
you assumed it was nothing, but when your roommate had caught you smiling at your phone like a mischievous child, and proceeded to interrogate you at who could possibly be taking away this much of your attention, maybe ethan seemed to be more than a group partner to you, and a liking had sprouted in your heart for the hockey player. 
every so often when you would catch his eye in class when the professor was in the depth of the lecture, you would smile to yourself as if one look meant a million more words. ethan was so genuine, in class and out, there was no way he couldn’t be sincere. and when he sent you a message thanking you endlessly for surprising him at his hockey game, the three red hearts that trailed along at the end of the grey text bubble made your heart pound in your chest, wanting to burst.
ethan
y/n!! there’s no way i saw you up in the stands today.. i thought you hated everything hockey?? what changed?
y/n
i was forced against my will. 😐
y/n
i’m kidding, my roommate dragged me out of the dorm and said i needed to experience one of the games, and i guess since i knew someone on the team it made it a bit more exciting to go to
ethan
oh, so when your roommate asks you it’s an immediate yes? 
ethan 
i’ve been asking you for months to come to one of the games!!!
y/n
allie is much more convincing than you are.. 🤷
ethan
seriously tho, it made my night to see you there. and you even got to see me score!!
y/n
it was pretty cool how you did that one move, and i saw you look up after so i knew i had some sort of part in your celebration after 
ethan
hey well what do you say you come to the next game next thursday? i can bring one of my jerseys to our meetup on wednesday for you to wear to the game
ethan
but again, thank you so much for coming to the game y/n. it made my night seeing you there ❤️❤️❤️
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
your semester had come to an end, and ethan and you aced the project, receiving one of the highest grades in the entire class. as a ritual, your fellow students gathered for the end-of-semester party that was held at the hockey team’s shared housing unit. it was only the middle of november when your classes had ended, so you found yourself picking out a black dress that you knew accentuated your body in all the right ways, and would definitely catch the attention of some. 
your friends and you entered the house that held the hockey team, being welcomed to the loud, vibrating sound of music playing all over the inside, the smell of sweat from nerves and dancing, and suddenly becoming aware of how sticky your shoes felt against the hardwood floor as you stepped farther in. 
your roommate allie had found herself reconnecting with another one of her friends from her classes, while your other friend, taylor had already ventured to find the nearest source of alcohol. you scanned the layout before you, seeing the stairs on the left that would lead to the frat houses’ bedrooms, and to your right was the living room where the furniture was pushed to the perimeter of the room to make a makeshift dance floor, while also giving seating for couples and drunk college students to make out, seeing a couple heavily entranced by each other’s mouths while the girl straddled the guy’s lap, you let out a breath, having this be a reminder of why you hated highschool and college parties. 
there was really nothing entertaining about walking in to an occupied bathroom unbeknownst to you because the random strangers were too concerned with where each other’s hands and lips were, or how you had to hyperfixate on the drink in your hand, not knowing who or what could be around you. 
you walked down the hallway, sliding between bodies, mumbling an “excuse me” and placing a soft hand on the backs or shoulders of the students you were passing by. you had turned the corner to which revealed the kitchen you had been searching for to mix yourself a drink, but rather than excitement unfolding, you were hit with a wind so cold and frigid, you almost stumbled back on your feet. 
right before you was the infamous brunette, ethan edwards, leaning forward towards a short unknown figure, having each of his arms on either side of her body, almost trapping her into his embrace. 
you didn’t know why it felt like there was no air to breath anymore, why it felt like your throat was closing up, or why it felt like you were choking on your own throat. you didn’t know why you felt your hands numb or why your stomach dropped rather than somersaulting. you blinked, trying to clear your vision at the sight before you, and you shook your head at yourself, not only because you couldn’t comprehend the sight before you, but also because you knew it didn’t matter that ethan was consumed by the unknown girl. you weren’t talking in that type of way, you weren’t pursuing him, and you most certainly didn’t like him, so why did it matter?
you knew you were in over your head and you felt heat fill in your cheeks in embarrassment at yourself for thinking any of the things ethan had done or said to you were sincere, or that he actually meant any of it. 
to him, you were just another girl that was at his feet giving him attention, another stack on his shoulder to feed his ego, another notch on his belt. you knew it was too good to be true. how could he be any different than all the other hockey players, you just hadn’t seen it coming, being blinded by the thought that maybe this one would prove you wrong. 
you were ashamed, feeling the ache of your heart, heat rushing through your body and the euphoric feeling spreading to the tips of your fingers as it felt like you dissociated from your own self, watching from a bird’s eye view at what unfolded before you. 
you swallow the lump in your throat and blink heavily to avoid any tears spilling from your eyes as you turned to your left to walk around the far side of the kitchen counter. you had found taylor, drink in hand, who was mingling with a girl she had met a few weeks into the semester. you wiped a bright, cheerful expression on your face approaching your blonde friend, who smiled brightly as she opened an arm to you and pulled you into her side.
“y/n! this is chloe, we were just talking about how allie and i had finally convinced you to go to that one hockey game back two weeks ago, she was there, literally right near us and i totally missed her!” taylor exclaimed as she smiled back towards chloe who was leaning against the white kitchen cabinets. you gave her a polite, small smile which she returned, but it was hard to focus with the loud, indistinct voices that echoed throughout the house, and the evident tension in the room as you heard the giggles from the unknown girl below ethan, fighting the urge to look over at the pair.
as they immersed themselves back into their previous conversation, you stood beside the two girls before excusing yourself to prepare a drink. if you were going to have to manage seeing ethan and another random girl mesmerised by his charm, you would need to have some alcohol in your system to make it more tolerable. 
you grabbed a red solo cup from the edge of the island that stood in the middle of the kitchen, and reached for the bottle of spiced rum, adding the liquor into your cup a bit over what a normal amount would be for a cocktail. you shrugged to yourself, as you eyed the amount of alcohol entering your cup, before you set the glass down and begin to walk towards the fridge quickly stopping in your tracks when you were reminded by the sight of the obstacle you would have to avoid in order to make your drink less of a concern to if you were going to down it immediately. 
the unknown brunette was now sitting on the counter with her legs widened enough for ethan to stand between them, his hand clearly on her waist, gripping her sides which you knew would cause a flutter in the girl’s stomach. 
you hesitantly inhale, wanting to make your manoeuver as nonchalant as possible, it would only be easier to forget about ethan being a close distance from you if you didn’t bring attention to yourself, so you emerge towards the fridge, keeping your eyes locked at the metal appliance, and reach to open the right door when a voice stops you in your tracks.
”y/n?” of fucking course. just like everything else with ethan and the timing of how things play out, of course he had to notice you while the unknown girl had her arms draped around his neck. “no way you’re here! what are you doing here?” as he questioned you, you watched with a blank stare as he turned to have his body facing you, and in doing so, let the girl’s arms fall from his shoulders. his eyebrows were raised in surprise and his mouth was held open in excitement, but his response is what shocked you the most, given he seemed to be pretty occupied before. he raised his arms out as if he were to go in for a hug before you shut down his opportunity to brush over what his actions unknowingly did to you. 
“well what would a student who just finished her exams be doing at a frat party?” you asked dryly. ethan’s head jolted back quickly in confusion at your rhetorical question, surprised by your shift in demeanour. 
“i, uh- well, y’know, i’m just surprised to see you, i didn’t know this was your type of scene,” ethan trailed off, stumbling over his words. you hummed in response, giving him a tight-lipped smile with a small squint of your eyes before reaching into the fridge to grab a can of coke to add to your drink that was waiting for you. 
you hummed with a tight lipped smile written on your face, “i’ll see you around ethan,” turning your body away from him and leaving him in a trance. 
closing the fridge door and pivoting on your feet to walk back in the direction of where your drink was, you made sure to keep your eyes in a forward stare, knowing any slight aversion of your eyes would cause the tears that had been pooling to spill. you begin to fill your red cup with the soda, keeping your head down as you felt your emotions rush over you. the sight of ethan close to another girl only caused your stomach to tighten in a knot, resulting in you taking a long swig of your drink, tasting the kick of the extra alcohol fall down your throat. 
this was going to be a long night.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
a few hours had passed and the drinks had become significantly more easy to finish in a short amount of time, and you had found yourself conversing with a few students you had recognized from your classes from the previous semester, laughing drunkenly over jokes being made and other remarks, and as you gossiped over your professors, each time your drink had emptied, another was placed in your hand without you having to leave where you were seated. needless to say, when you quietly excused yourself to the washroom, having broken your seal about 30 minutes prior, you felt the buzz erupt through your body as you walked to find the nearest bathroom. 
your head was spinning lightly, so you balanced a hand on the wall as you tried entering the main floor’s bathroom, only to be blocked by the noises you would only assume would be coming from a frat house’s bathroom, so. eager to release the pressure that was filling your bladder, you wandered back towards the stairs that led to the second floor that displayed all of the bedrooms. following what you hoped to be the right path to the bathroom upstairs, you find yourself leaned up against the wall opposite of the closed door, waiting for vacancy. 
taking in your surroundings while you waited, you squinted your eyes to suppress the drunken state you were in and noticed the majority of the doors to the bedrooms were opened, with one at the end on the left being closed. as your gaze lingered down the hallway, you heard the lock of the bathroom unlatch, to which you pushed yourself off of the wall you were leaned against.
and as if your night couldn’t have gotten worse, you stood opposite to the tall, muscular figure, who you wanted no more than to slap across the face for the way he made you feel, whether it was unbeknownst to him or not. 
you rolled your eyes as you watched his expression lighten over his face at the sight of you, and you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting impatiently to enter the room you came for initially.
“y/n! there you are! you disappeared after i saw you in the kitchen- you alright? you seemed kind of off when i talked to you,” ethan spoke in excitement, clearly the alcohol was buzzing through his system as it was yours, causing his bubbly, and overly chipper demeanour. 
you scoffed at his oblivious remark over your previous encounter, trying to dodge a conversation with him and attempting to sneak past his figure, only to be blocked by his reflex to stop your movement, which caused you to lightly bump into his frame. you couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke to you, knowing that if you did, you would cave and you would forget the sight of seeing him with another girl, and melt at the knees when you held eye contact with him. it happened every time you were with him. it was as if everything around you disappeared into an abyss when you looked in his brown eyes, nothing else being as important as the way he looked at you. and you hated the way that it was an act as simple as eye contact that made your heart warm, your cheeks fill with heat and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 
ethan reached an arm up to grab onto the side of your arm, causing you to stop your attempt to pass by him, and making you avert your gaze up to where he towered over you, looking down with his infamous soft eyes. you could smell his cologne that you hated because of how much you loved it, and you bit the inside of your lip, stopping yourself from making any impulsive, drunken decisions that you knew you would regret when the alcohol had worn off. 
“nothing’s wrong,” you said blankly, peaking around his body towards the empty bathroom that was calling your name. “come on, let me go, i need to pee.” you urged, shrugging your shoulders in defeat with a slight pout forming on your face. ethan had only grinned to himself without any other words being spoken and he pushed you behind him towards the bathroom as he stepped to the side, and you quickly stepped in, shutting the door behind you. 
you used the washroom as you needed, but before exiting, you peered at your reflection in the vanity mirror, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as the alcohol slowly took over more of your system, making everything feel a slight bit more distorted than normal. you closed your eyes as you reached for the door handle, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance that ethan would still be waiting on the other side, and much to your dismay, the odds weren’t in your favour as the one and only brunette hockey player was leaned up against the wall you once were standing against, locked into his phone screen as you watched him scroll mindlessly. 
you sneaked past the bathroom door, veering to the side of the wall as you tried to escape another confrontation from ethan, but his awareness overruled as his arm reached out to stop you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards him. his pull had been slightly stronger than it needed, so you stumbled over your feet towards him, steadying yourself by grabbing onto his biceps with both of your hands and looking up at him with an unimpressed look as you gathered yourself. maybe the extra liquor added to your drinks wasn’t the best idea after all. 
“so can we talk? or are you gonna keep acting like you’re a criminal trying to escape the police,” ethan lightly chuckled, again looking down at you with the smile that you had grown to adore too much. 
“i’m not avoiding you, ethan,” you argued.
ethan hummed, “i’m pretty sure you are,” he said quieter as he took a step closer to you, “just because the semester’s over, doesn’t mean we have to be.” he said, and you almost choked on your breath. your mouth had slightly opened in shock, taken aback by the words that had just fallen from his tongue.
“w-what do you mean we don’t have to be over?” you awkwardly chuckled, stumbling over your words. maybe it was the alcohol that was clouding your judgement, but you truly did not understand ethan’s intentions.
“all i’m saying is that just because the class we had is over, doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends.” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and once again, the cold air of realization hit you like a brick wall, as you processed his words. you knew you didn’t hear him correctly, you knew there was a misunderstanding, and you knew you were in over your head, yet again. you mentally frowned upon yourself at how stupid you felt in the situation, knowing you probably looked like a fool standing opposite to ethan. 
“right, yeah.” you trailed, looking down towards your feet as you tried to compose yourself, knowing if you dwelled on the current situation, tears would begin to form. “look- i gotta go find my friends, we’re probably gonna head out soon anyway, i- uh, it was nice seeing you i guess. we can keep in touch too, but i know our schedules are both pretty busy.” you said looking back up at the brunette, you gave him a soft, sad smile as you tried to make it seem like your mind wasn’t racing and the utter sadness at the situation wasn’t beginning to fill your body. you turned to head back down the stairs to where the party was still going, but yet again, ethan stopped you in your tracks.
“y/n,” he repeated more sternly, and you hated how your heart ached in your chest, how you wanted nothing more than to scream at him that you were falling for him, but in doing so you hated how it made you feel, you hated how you wanted to kiss him like the world was ending and there was no tomorrow, but if you did, he’d probably turn away. all because of the stupid project that had to be such a large portion of your grade, you had slowly fallen for the boy who occupied every wednesday of your semester. “follow me,” was all ethan said as he took your hand in his, and you felt the texture of his skin beneath your own, how his hands were somewhat dry, but not overly coarse, and how they were warm and encapsulated your own. 
you let ethan guide you down the hallway, as you trailed behind his large figure like you were a lost puppy. he turned the corner into one of the opened bedroom doors, and your eyes widened in shock at what you assumed entering his room meant. you had been in his room before, one of the times you had planned to work on the project and the library had been closed due to maintenance, ethan offered to have the meetup be held at his place. that was the reason you had been familiar with the layout of the house when arriving at the current party.
panic settled in as you watch him reach behind you to close the door, and your eyes followed as he walked towards his desk, silently reaching into the third drawer on the desk and pulling out what looked to be a picture. your brows pulled together in confusion as he turned back to where you stood, close to the door with your hands fiddling with each other as you anticipated what he had to show. 
he reached out to pass you the print, and you met his eyes again for reassurance that it was okay to take it from him, to which he nodded in encouragement. you took it in your hands, and looked down only to see that it had been a picture of you in his team hoodie, the day that you had been rained on, with your hair wet, makeup slightly smudged. you stood opposite of him, with the hoodie engulfing your frame making you look much smaller compared to ethan’s larger frame. you smiled at the picture, but were only even further confused as to why he had it, so as you hand it back to ethan, you look up in confusion, only to see a small blush forming on his cheeks. 
“i know it’s kinda creepy to just have this picture of you, but you looked so cute in my hoodie and that day we had together, was probably one of the best days i’ve had all year, maybe even the best day since i first got here.” ethan shyly explained, making your gaze soften as you watched him explain. 
“yeah, i remember that day, it was one of my favourites.” you responded softly, smiling to yourself as you reminisced. but before you grew too distracted by his romantic act, you came quickly to remember how you felt when you first arrived, conflicting your feelings as you stood in ethan’s room. there was a silence that was held between you two, and you didn’t know what to say, and you knew it would probably be best if you didn’t open your mouth to speak, knowing you would most likely regret what words formed. ethan placed the picture back on his desk, before placing himself on the edge of his bed, clasping his hands together, and you stayed put where you were standing, watching him before you.
“come,” ethan gestured to the mattress beneath him, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. 
“i don’t think that’s a good idea.” you responded quickly, allowing your blunt and cold facade to take over yet again. “really, i should probably go find my friends, they're gonna think i got kidnapped or something.” you awkwardly laughed. taking a step backwards closer to the door as you tried to escape, 
“oh, come on,” ethan whined, throwing his head back in protest. “don’t make me come over there and make you sit on my bed.” he warned. you rolled your eyes yet again in annoyance at how easily convincing he was, and you took the few steps forward to reach his bed, and ethan scooted himself over to the side to give you more room. 
“what’s up?” ethan asked quietly, the close proximity between the two of you becoming more evident as you were now sitting shoulder to shoulder in his bedroom. it intensified every thought and feeling you had run through your body. you noticed his eyes were hooded from the alcohol, his hair looked freshly washed and you could see his silver chain slightly peeking out from the collar of his crewneck hoodie. you took in his appearance slowly, before meeting his gaze that had already landed on you, looking into your eyes with a soft, alluring gaze. 
“i said nothing’s wrong, ethan.” you exclaimed, letting out a breath as you grew more annoyed with his persistence. you didn’t want to let your guard down, you couldn’t. not while you were in his room, drunk, at a party. 
“that’s bullshit, come on, you’ve been off since i first saw you.” ethan countered, and you then felt the weight of his hand being placed on the middle of your thigh, immediately making your breath shift into slower, more heated breaths. you looked down at the hand on your exposed leg, becoming aware that the fabric of your black dress had slowly rode up your thighs. you then met his gaze, again, as he was still maintaining eye contact with you. 
“ethan,” you pushed, not wanting to continue the conversation any longer than it had already been happening, you sighed and began to stand up to leave, but you were prevented from doing so as his hand pushed against your thigh to keep you placed on his bed.
“y/n,” was all he responded. 
your eyes darted to the side, contemplating whether or not you would cave, before letting go another breath, “okay, look-” you began before you stopped yourself, wanting to find the correct words to describe your feelings. if you had finally decided to have the conversation you had envisioned every night before going to bed, you wanted it to be relatively similar to the way you had planned it to be. although, you didn’t expect it to be happening at the actual moment it now was. 
“fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, looking down into your lap, but was quickly guided to continue looking into ethan’s eyes by his hand that had slipped under your chin and tilted your head up. “i’m confused.” you blurted, no other words coming to mind as you looked at ethan with an expression of confusion and distraught written over your face.
ethan paused before responding, “why?”
“because of this!” you gestured between your bodies that were inches away from each other. “i come to this party against my will, because we both know i hate this type of scene, and low and behold, i come to find you invested in some random girl i’ve never seen before, with her hands all over you, and i can only assume what words were being exchanged.” you said in a single breath, your chest heaving as you explained your dilemma to the brunette in front of you. 
ethan went to his open his mouth to justify his actions, but you beat him to it, “no, you don’t get to say anything,” you pointed with your index finger, “and then when all i need to do is pee, god forbid i run into you and you end up showing me a picture you’ve been hiding in your drawer and you look at me in a way that makes me feel so weird!” you rushed, your brows furrowing in your own confusion as you spoke.
“y/n, i’m lost, what are you trying to say?” ethan said softly, looking at you with his own brows stitched together in confusion.
this was it, this was the moment you’d confess your secret to the man who had occupied your brain 24/7. the one you thought of immediately when you did well on an assignment, and the one you would stand in the freezing arena every game to watch him play. the one you pictured yourself with when your friends and you gushed over the desire for a relationship. the one you searched for in a crowd of people at a school event, and the one you wanted nothing more than to be with. 
“i love you, okay?” you bursted, slightly raising your voice with your face strained, “and it’s ruining my life.” you said as you ran a hand over your face to wipe away the hair that had obstructed your view, “and it killed me to find you here with another girl, and having to imagine myself going onto the next semester and not having you in my life.”
your chest continued to heave up and down, out of breath as you admitted to your internal conflict, and you searched in ethan’s eyes for a response. he was silent for a moment, his eyes darting from side to side as he collected his thoughts. you inched forward on the bed as a way to encourage him to say anything, but the longer the silence settled, the more you began to regret your sudden confession. as you went to place your head in your hands with your elbows resting on your knees, ethan’s mouth opened. 
“are you drunk?” was all he asked, but given the amount of time you had spent in ethan’s room, and your body trying to compose yourself, you hadn’t felt the effects as strongly as before. 
you shook your head, “if i am, drunk words are sober thoughts.” you chuckled to yourself. 
“in that case, are drunk actions, sober thoughts?” he asked quieter, and you tilted your head in confusion, not being given a moment to process his words before you felt his hand reach for your jaw and lightly pull you in to meet his lips. 
your mouths connected, and you inhaled sharply at the contact, melting into his touch as you adjusted yourself to face more towards his figure, you reached your arm to rest on his shoulder. ethan held your cheek in his hand, with his fingers reaching the nape of your neck to pull you in closer, and your body went weak, quickly to be supported by ethan’s free arm reaching around your back. 
he pulled away, lips swollen from the contact, and his chest rising and falling rapidly. you looked up at his with doe eyes, wetting your lips without saying any words being said, and he reached back down to connect your lips again, his arm around your back sliding to your side to take hold on your waist. he pulled your body closer to him as a wordless action to adjust your position, and with your eyes closed and lips still mangled, ethan pulled you farther on the bed, and leaned your figure back to where he now hovered over your body with your back against the mattress. 
he detached his lips again, breathing heavily with his chain dangling over your face, you stared up at the sight before you, “should we really be doing this?” you questioned softly, gripping his forearm with your hand. 
ethan sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, “i’ve been wanting this for a while, and trust me this is not how i envisioned this happening, but i can’t hold out any longer,” he confessed, and before you can say anything in response, he delved back in, placing a kiss on your jaw near your ear, the sound of his wet mouth suctioning your skin made your entire body erupt in euphoria, and caused you to squirm underneath him. he trailed his wet, sensual kisses along your jawline as your hand found itself intertwined with his soft, brunette hair. he continued kissing down your jaw onto your neck, sucking slightly on your skin, as his arm held the weight of his body over yours. he looked up at you, with pleading eyes to adjust the strap of your dress, and without words you allowed him to move the fabric to the side, but in your own confidence, you sat up and lowered the dress to your waist, exposing your black lace bra you had worn underneath. 
ethan took in the view, sighing in delight at your figure before him, and he leaned back down to continue his mission to cover every inch of your skin with wet, slow kisses. your hands found themselves interlocking behind ethan’s neck as he kissed your collarbone, and he looked up to your face with his eyes only, silently asking for permission to remove the piece of clothing that restrained your breasts. you nodded and lifted your back to allow for his hand to reach beneath you and unclasp the lingerie, freeing it from your body as he pulled it off of you. immediately his hands fell to your chest, cupping his large hands over your front and kneading your breasts as if they were dough. 
your head fell back in pleasure at the contact of his mouth to your nipple, as he curled his tongue around the sensitive end. your hand tugged at his hair, arching your back in desperation for more. 
ethan looked up at you yet again, and you reached forward, guiding ethan to stand on his knees, grabbing the end of his crewneck hoodie and pulling the fabric upward over his head, revealing his toned, broad figure. you mentally gawked at the sight and looked up at him as he towered over you, with your face being perfectly aligned with his waist. 
you held eye contact with him as you reached for the waistband of his pants, noticing the growing bulge that began to protrude against his pants. you slipped a finger into the space between his body and the pants, gliding it along his v-line before tugging at his bottoms to expose his lower half. he had quickly stood up off of his bed to remove his pants, and while doing so, you shimmied out of your black dress, letting the clothing fall to the floor beside his bed, leaving you in nothing but the matching underwear to your top. ethan then climbed back on the bed, on his knees like prior, and you took in the sight of his bulge beneath his underwear, constraining the fabric and tauntingly wanting to be freed.
you looked up at ethan who watched your every move intensely, and then averted your gaze to the sight before you. you slowly grabbed the waistband of his boxers on each hip and pulled the fabric down, releasing his cock to be free as it sprung up, throbbing in anticipation to find a release.
your mouth practically salivated at the sight, and you instantly reached a hand to wrap around the base of his cock, feeling the warmth beneath your hand. stroking your hand twice up and down the length of ethan, you heard him groan above you, as he reached a hand to steady himself on your shoulder. 
you adjust yourself beneath him, looking up to reach his eyes with your own and his bottom lip was tucked under his top row of teeth as he watched you take his cock in your mouth. you slowly wet his length and pushed your mouth farther down and closer to his stomach, until your eyes began to water, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 
you pulled back slightly and quickened your pace as you began to bob your head along his length, ethan throwing his head back and gripping the back of your head softly in response. he held you there as he attempted to hold himself together, fighting the urge to release at that moment.
“fuck, y/n,” he breathed, holding your head closer to the rest of his body for a moment hearing the noises of your mouth taking every inch of his cock, as you slightly gagged on his member. you release him from your mouth with a small ‘pop’, and grin at ethan’s flushed face. he began to compose himself before he pushed you backwards until your head met the pillows of his bed and his face was inches away from your stomach. he maintained eye contact, which in response evoke an incline of your breath, chest heaving up and down as you grew impatient for ethan to make some sort of move to aid your frustration. 
ethan looked at you with concerned eyes, in a way to silently ask you if he was allowed to continue and you eagerly nodded your head, your hips buckling upwards anticipating any sort of stimulation. 
ethan flip the waistband of your underwear under his finger and dragged it over your hips and swiftly pulled the fabric off of your legs, tossing the piece to the side and focusing his attention back at the sight before him. his hands immediately found the inner space of your thighs, lightly rubbing the soft skin with his calloused hands, his tongue running over his bottom lip in hunger and desperation to delve into the lust. 
“god, you’re perfect, y/n,” ethan mumbled, but before any other words were exchanged, he pushed your legs softly to the side, exposing your core and his head leaned into your body, immersing himself in you and suffocating himself with the taste of you. you moaned at the contact, your hips caving at the contact. ethan continued to stimulate your clit, his tongue lapping over the skin between your legs. your hand found his hair, tugging the brown locks in pleasure, and biting your lip to restrain yourself from making too loud of noise. 
ethan moaned against your body, sending vibrations through your body, almost sending you over the edge, earning a whimper to escape from your mouth. 
“oh my god, ethan,” you whined through gritted teeth as ethan held your legs down to the side with his arms and your hips bucking at the pleasure. he pulled away, the missing feeling making you crave more to put you over the edge, your legs bent up to the rest of your body as you watched ethan hold eye contact with you, reaching to his side table drawer and pulling out a condom. 
you watched before you as he slipped it on, his body coming to hover on top of yours and aligning his cock with your entrance. your hands found themselves gripping onto his shoulder, and you bit your lip as ethan began to lower himself into you, the pressure causing your eyes to flutter shut. ethan went slow, no words being exchanged other than the wordless eye contact that was held between ethan and you, and when he bottomed you out, your mouth fell agape, causing ethan’s own mouth to fall open in pleasure. 
his movements began slow, thrusting in and out, watching as your body responded in sync to his moments, and as it became more comfortable, ethan earning a nod from you to quicken his pace, your mouth hung open, small whimpers escaping as each thrust was complete. 
ethan’s one hand remained by your head, lowering himself onto his elbow to inch closer to your face, while his other hand was placed on your hip, tightly gripping your skin as he continued to thrust harder and deeper into you. 
“fuck, ethan, yes,” you moaned as he hit the right spot to cause an eruption of pleasure through your entire body, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten when his hand on your hip reached between your legs to rub circles on you clit, and your moans sounded in sync with his thrusts, the sounds of two bodies erupting in pleasure filling the room.
“god, you’re so tight, y/n,” ethan moaned in response, his eyes squinting shut in concentration as he held himself together, your hands pulled at his neck, bringing his face to yours and your lips meet his, tightly interlocked as his thrusts still moved your body beneath him. 
you could tell ethan was reaching his own climax, his determined thrusts becoming more and more sloppy, and his breath shaking against your lips. his fingers kept rubbing on circles on your clit, determined to bring you to orgasm, and when you adjusted your hips slightly, allowing for ethan to hit a deeper, more pleasurable spot in your body, the noises that came out of your mouth in response caused ethan to release into the condom, his own moans filling your mouth as his thrusts came to a halt and you felt the pressure hit your walls as he filled the condom with his cum. determined to bring you to your own climax, ethan’s fingers still worked their efforts on your clit, bringing his free hand to your mouth, trailing over your bottom lip, awaiting entrance. 
his middle finger slipped into your mouth, and instinctively you sucked on the member, watching ethan look at you in amusement. when his finger was lubricated to his liking, he reached to your sex, running his finger along your folds to collect the wetness before pushing his finger in, immediately curling his finger towards him. 
with both hands in action to put you over the edge, you raised your arms above your head in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even closer to being released. 
“yes, ethan, just like that,” you moaned when ethan fastened his pace.
he hummed in response, “yeah? is that what you want, babe? you want to cum for me?” ethan asked softly, holding eye contact as his fingers worked magic against you. your eyes closed in pleasure, your head slightly tilting back, and when ethan slipped a second finger into your sex, and pulled his fingers in and out while maintaining curling inside, a loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt the knot come undone in your stomach, your legs shaking lightly as you rode out your orgasm. 
your breath uneven, a grin erupted on both of yours and ethan’s faces, as he reached for his boxers and your matching set of undergarments, helping you put on the pieces of fabric, and quickly slipping under his covers. you follow suit, and find yourself curling up against his figure, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heightened heart rate. 
ethan pressed his lips against the top of your head, “you really meant all those words from before?” he questioned, earning a giddy smile from you as you looked up to meet his gaze.
“and a thousand more.”
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blurredcolour · 2 months
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The Only Truth... | Part Three
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader
There are all sorts of hazards inside a Prisoner of War camp - guards, disease, injury, infection. One that none of you were banking on was the weather itself. Despite it all, and a severe lack of time to linger in one another's presence, you still find yourself growing ever closer to a certain Major.
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Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Disease, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, POW Camp Setting, Kissing, SS Officers, Depictions of Nazi Atrocities Against Russian Soldiers, Threats, Fear, Mental Health Struggles, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Word Count: 6337
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April 21, 1945
Despite heeding your request and allowing others to bear the body of the late Freddy Simms, the boy whose name he learned only after his death, from the hospital to the corner of the camp where other bodies were also awaiting transport to the graveyard, Bucky still found himself tremendously sore the next morning. If not for roll call, he would have much preferred to remain on his makeshift sleeping palette tucked beneath the eaves of a fully occupied tent only half-protected from the elements. As it was, the resident goons needed him upright and counted, and so, with no shortage of grunting and grimacing, he had forced himself up and into line.
Considering the overwhelming population present, it was a wonder the guards did not just spend all day counting the prisoners to satisfy their twice daily checks. A few mouthfuls of broth later and Bucky had just lain back down to rest before it seemed like he was having to repeat the arduous process all over again. It had taken another day of rest to recover from his overexertion, but when he awoke this morning, things seemed a little less torturous. The warmth in the sunshine certainly helped, and he felt energized enough to accompany the delivery of the hot loaves of dense, black bread to the hospital. As his eyes scanned the rows of cots in the tent and then the clapboard building, he barely concealed his frown as you seemed nowhere to be found.
“Major, would you mind taking this pail of bandages out back for me? The Nurse seemed to miss them when she collected the laundry this morning.” There was a knowing tone to Chalmers’ request that made him swallow sheepishly, his ears heating up slightly, but he quickly nodded.
Grabbing the rather light pail with the hand of his uninjured side, he walked down the hallway to drop off a loaf of bread in your sparse quarters, brows furrowing at the lack of windows therein, before continuing out the back door. The sight of you crouched beside a basin, sleeves rolled up as you scrubbed at the sudsy rags with a large pot of bandages boiling away on a small fire nearby was so utterly domestic, Bucky could not help but let his mind wander. To imagine you in a kinder place doing something so very mundane without the fear of being shot or starved to death. That was where you ought to be – not here trying to scrub blood and other filth out of tattered cotton under the thumb of SS goons.
Bucky swallowed painfully as you paused a moment to smooth some errant strands of hair from your face and he was able to fully see the painful scars on your left arm. Scars that he had previously caught small glimpses of, despite your best efforts to hide them from him, but the full extent of them made his skin ache in sympathy. That explained why your nightmares featured fire.
Your sharp inhale, swiftly following by the sound of your boot impacting the pail behind you, pulled him from his reverie. Sent his eyes flying back up to see your horrified expression. You were frantically tugging down the rolls of your sleeve as you backed away from him, gait horribly off balance due to the obstacle you had encountered, and he was both afraid you would fall over and that he had offended you. Dropping his own pail, Bucky once again found himself chasing after you across the small, mud-filled yard behind the hospital, sliding his arms around you to haul you tight against his chest.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It just looks like it hurt a lot.” He murmured into your hair, hating the way your entire body was rigid and stiff against him.
There was an agonizing, drawn-out silence where the ambient sounds of the camp bled into the intimate moment until finally some of the tension melted from you.
Sniffing indignantly, you muttered against his chest, “it did. Well not at first, I was too busy trying to get out of the damn plane and take my surgical tech with me. But after…” He felt your head bob in a nod against him and he pressed a reassuring hand between your shoulder blades.
“He make it?” Bucky whispered, immediately feeling guilty for prying, but he could not take back the words now.
“Fitz? Yeah, he’s here – helps out at the hospital once a week…” You leaned back in his arms to look at him with dewy eyes, that wicked grin tugging at your lips and the depth of his longing to kiss you took his breath away. “Don’t see him quite as often as certain prisoners, though.” You teased, making him grin warmly in response.
“Maybe I’m still a patient in a way, angelfish. Maybe you’re still healing me.” He had meant to parry your jest with one of his own, but instead all that had come out was a vulnerable truth, and you both stood there, eyeing one another intensely before Bucky felt your arms, previously trapped against his chest, slide around him properly.
The way you pulled him closer should have felt comforting, reassuring, but instead all it resulted in was a lightning bolt of pain ripping through his back and he was barely able to smother the resulting hiss. You pulled back quickly, fairly ripping yourself from his arms as you frowned at him with your hands on your hips.
“John Egan you are still very injured.” You chided, gripping his shoulders to maneuver and guide him back to the stairs before forcing him down to sit on the edge of them.
“Like it when you say my full name, angelfish. Middle name’s Clarence if you want to really give it all you got.” He smirked up at you incorrigibly and you huffed in what he hoped was a mix of fondness with that obvious infuriation.
“Don’t think I won’t add that to my arsenal Major. Now you stay right there, that way I know you’re not off getting yourself into more trouble.”
“Yes Ma’am.” He grinned, loathe to admit it aloud, but it really did feel better to be sitting down.
Nodding sharply, you grabbed his abandoned pail of bandages to add them to the pot of water, fanning the flames of your small fire until they burned hotter to boil off anything infectious, before returning to your bucket of rags. You continued to scrub at them, casting scrutinizing glances his way every so often before transferring them to a rinse bucket.
“Did you really meet the Pope?” Bucky suddenly asked the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since he had heard you speak the words to the Simms boy.
“Yes, I did.” You nodded, wringing out the clean rags one at a time before draping them across your ersatz clothesline. “The whole squadron did.”
“You were in Italy then…” He mused quietly and you nodded with a quiet hum of agreement, the pair of you swapping information without giving too much away to anyone who might be listening in. “Well I definitely did not meet the King.”
Your sudden peal of laughter had him both grinning and bristling defensively.
“That far-fetched an idea, hmm, angelfish?” He raised an eyebrow demandingly and your hand pressed against your lips, trying to smother giggles you seemed to be unable to stop. “Alright, alright… If I wasn’t stuck on these steps on your orders.” He threatened playfully, basking in the way that only made you throw your head back and laugh harder.
God, you did not belong in this place.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You apologized as he huffed, coming over to tousle his hair fondly.
It took all his willpower not to press up into your touch like some demanding housecat. Slinging an arm around your waist, he pulled you down to sit on his broad thigh.
“Think all this hard work is making you hysterical, angelfish, take a load off.”
“Bucky…” You murmured, reluctantly holding your full weight off him until he forced your hips down fully.
“Rest dammit, isn’t that what you’re always tell me to do?”
“But you’re actually injured…”
“So were you. They let you rest when this was fresh?” He asked softly, fingertips trailing across the abnormally smooth yet ridged surface of your burned and healed flesh.
Bucky could feel you twitching slightly in his arms, obviously not entirely certain how you felt about his touch on your scar and so he shifted to lace his fingers through yours instead.
“There were too many people to help.” You sighed. “Still are, I–”
“Just sit another minute. Can’t save ‘em all if you’re too tired to stand up.”
Your fingers closed around his as you exhaled shakily, head coming to rest on his shoulder. “I do want to save them all…and it’s never enough.”
“I know.” He whispered squeezing your side, lips brushing against your forehead.
The sound of voices caught his attention then – voices growing louder, growing closer. You leapt from his lap, and he reluctantly released you, assuming a casual posture as you grabbed a long stick to pull sterilized bandages from the pot and dump them into the sudsy water for scrubbing. Two guards rounded the corner, immediately barking at him.
“What are you doing back here?!”
“Hospital staff only, get out of here now.”
“Major Chalmers asked me to assist the Nurse, you can confirm it with him.” Bucky replied with a shrug, watching your eyes widen with curiosity.
“We will go confirm with him together, up.” The first guard spoke again, and Bucky rose stiffly, nodding to you before they led him inside.
------------
As you awoke the next morning to the sound of rain hammering against the roof, you were filled with relief that you had managed to wash and dry all of the laundry yesterday. It was still waiting in its baskets to be folded, but it would hold until your next free moment. Forcing yourself to feel satisfied with a few slices of the loaf of that black bread that had appeared in your room – you held your suspicions that Bucky may have played a role in its arrival – you dressed and emerged as your door was unlocked, blinking in surprise as Fitzgibbons entered the hospital along with Chalmers and Menzies.
You had honestly lost track of the days, a serious risk in the camp, and the fact that it was now Sunday, his shift and your day of rest, had completely slipped your mind. As a medically trained Sergeant, it was well within Chalmers’ rights to order Fitzgibbons to work in the hospital more often, but an early clash of personalities between Menzies and your surgical technician meant that his presence was only requested on a more limited basis.
“Morning Ma’am. Brought you a book to try and keep you off your feet.” He held out a battered paperback and you shook your head with a fond sigh as you accepted the copy of The Great Gatsby.
“Thank you, Fitz…sure you boys don’t need any help today?”
“You can help us by taking the day off as intended, Nurse.” Chalmers replied in a tone that brooked no argument and you nodded, retreating to your room to sit at the small table to crack open the book curiously.
The selection of reading material in the Red Cross library in camp was limited, dated. This book had been published twenty years ago, and you had a feeling you might have read it before, but it was hopefully going to keep you relaxed and your mind off the dozens of tasks you felt like you ought to be doing instead. Despite your predilection to turn inward and get caught up in an overwhelming sea of introspection, the story proved engaging enough to lose yourself in until a knock on the door jamb startled you.
“Mail call.” One of Bucky’s friends stood there, the blond with the gold teeth, grinning. He had a box tucked beneath his arm.
Confusion bloomed unabated across your face as you had not once received a piece of mail since you had been taken prisoner in January. No one had.
“I didn’t think that we were getting mail…” You slid a piece of scrap paper into the book to save your place.
“We’re not, Hambone, stop confusing angelfish.” Bucky appeared over his friend’s shoulder and snagged the box out from under his arm. “It’s those Red Cross boxes we thought we might get.”
“Man, I just wanted to say it once, still a kind of mail.” He grumbled as he strode back down the hall.
Bucky sighed, shaking his head as he set the box down on your table. “Sorry if he got your hopes up.”
Laughing dryly, you set your book down to pry open the already portioned box – each package meant for two servicemen. “Don’t worry, I’ve learned not to expect anything here.”
Spotting the can of powdered milk you held it out to him. “You take this.”
“Angelfish, why are you giving me your rations?” Bucky eyed you suspiciously and you raised an eyebrow in response.
“You’re healing bones and I’m not?”
“At least take half, put it in one of your old cans…”
Glaring at him a moment, you relented with a sigh, unable to deny the fact that it would be nice to have some to add to the bitter coffee. Digging through the remnants of your last box, you found the empty can from the allotment of powdered milk that had arrived in February and began decanting half of the fresh supply.
“You haven’t gotten a single letter? Not even your parents?” He asked quietly, leaning against the door frame.
Swallowing tightly, you slid the metal lid back into place on the cannister, shaking your head. “Figure things must be pretty bad if they can’t get the mail through. Not that I got a lot of mail before but…” You shrugged and held out the powdered milk to him. “Pretty sure it’s got a hole so use it quick.”
Stepping forward to take it carefully, Bucky’s eyes traced over your face curiously. “No handsome fella desperate for your scented stationery, angelfish? I find that hard to believe.”
You could not help but roll your eyes with a sarcastic noise. “Fellas don’t want girls like me, Bucky. They want some pretty thing waiting back home with the time to write pages long letters in looping cursive and those saucy acronyms and pretty spritzes of perfume. Not girls who spent so much time making a living they forgot to make a life.” Your eyes dropped to study the cans of corned beef, of ham, the fresh box of crackers, and small block of American cheese in your ration box. “I’m sure you’ve got a beautiful girl waiting stateside. Sweet and kind and not a whisp of a scar on her. Doesn’t know the sound of jackboots on floorboards or how to use a parachute or what it looks like when the life leaves someone’s eyes. That’s the kind of girl a man like you deserves, Bucky. To completely forget this nightmare even happened. Not this beat up, grungy, girl who wouldn’t even remember which fork to use at the dinner table–”
You barely registered the press of his lips against yours at first, mouth fumbling against his as you continued your litany of reasons why you were utterly unsuitable for him until at last you became fully aware of his warm palms cupping your cheeks, his kiss growing firmer until you stilled against him. An exhale sighed its way through your nose as the tension seeped from your bones, melting against his tantalizingly firm and broad chest. With a noise of deep reluctance, you forced yourself back, licking your lips slightly.
“You could get yourself in serious trouble doing things like that John…”
“Long as it’s not in trouble with you, angelfish.” He murmured fondly, tracing his fingertips along the curves of your ears before slowly pulling them back, tracing your jaw as he went, your nerve endings shimmering in the wake of his touch. “I just couldn’t bear to hear another word of that horseshit.”
A smirk tugged lazily at your lips, the tender flesh of them still humming slightly. “So if I spout nonsense, I get kissed, is that how this arrangement works?”
He exhaled sharply through pursed lips. “You can just ask, too. No need for all the absurd self-deprecations. Because the ‘fellas’ you speak of are idiots. You are a damn treasure, angelfish. Anyone who can’t see it isn’t worth your time.”
Feeling moisture gathering at your lash line, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him in to lay a firm kiss of appreciation on his lips, briefly glimpsing his look of surprise before your mouths collided. Mindful of his ribs, you slid your other hand to his hair, holding him close as his arms encircled your waist.
“I like this ‘arrangement.’” He breathed against your mouth when the pair of you were forced to come up for air.
“Mmmm. Well you’d better get out of here before someone comes looking for you.” You muttered, not making a move to release him.
“Absolutely.” He replied, only pulling you closer into him.
“Bucky…” You sighed, tone not nearly admonishing enough.
“Thirty more seconds.” He whispered.
The unmistakable and aforementioned sound of jackboots scraping across hardwood echoed down the hall and you started to shove at him. “Goon, goon!” You hissed and he back pedaled quickly to the threshold of the room, cradling the powdered milk under his arm.
“I tried reading that book, didn’t really understand the green light business.”
Chest heaving, you furrowed your brows, watching him gesture sharply to the paperback on the table beside your ration box and you inhaled in recognition.
“I think it’s some kind of metaphor in futility?” You blurted out, a long-lost lecture on the novel suddenly flooding back to your rescue as a guard strode past him down the hall, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“Yeah, got enough of that in my real life.” Bucky huffed with easy nonchalance before shrugging. “Well, see you around, Nurse.”
“Thank you again, Major.” You nodded, desperately trying to even out your shaky breaths as Bucky disappeared down the hall and the guard continued out the back door, sending you slumping into your chair in relief.
Your trembling fingers traced the tiny smile that curled at your lips, not at all certain what had just transpired, but things between yourself and Bucky had definitely changed.
What most certainly did not change was the weather. The deluge persisted through the night and into the next day, Chalmers and Menzies arriving mud-splattered and damp after being released from their combines. The humidity was of absolutely no help to Desmond Brown, an infantryman from Pennsylvania who had been battling pneumonia for nigh on a week now. Dusty, as he was affectionately known, only seemed to grow weaker, and you were quite dismayed to note a bluish tinge to his fingernails and around his lips today.
“Won’t be long now.” Menzies uttered as you made your rounds and you nodded silently. “Doubt we have anything to prop him up and make him more comfortable?”
Scouring the hospital with your gaze, you shook your head with a frown. “I’ll move his cot against the wall and try to prop him against it – not the best but better than…” You left the fact that he surely felt as though he was drowning in his own fluids unspoken.
Menzies was smart enough to understand and nodded firmly. “Try and sit with him as much as you can today.”
“Yes, sir.” You nodded and the pair of you parted ways to put your various treatment plans into action.
Pushing the cot flush against the wall, even with its occupant still in place, was not terribly difficult. Malnourishment and illness had devoured much of Dusty’s muscle mass, though you did need a moment to catch your breath and recover, given that you too were three months into your POW diet. What proved hardest was keeping the man propped upright. Any time you would leave his side to check on another patient or help one of the surgeons with a task, you would find him slumped to the side or slid down into what he deliriously claimed was a more comfortable position.
Most concerning of all, a soft rattle had taken up residence in the back of his throat, audible with each exhale. It was worryingly known as the ‘death rattle’ and usually signalled the end was not far off. Fetching a cool cloth, you settled him into the most comfortable yet still propped-up position you could manage with a combination of his pillow and blanket and the wall before laying the cloth across his fevered forehead. Dusty blinked his glassy hazel eyes at you once, then twice, before his eyelids fell shut for the last time. His labored, rattled breathing continued on for a remarkable duration, and all the while you sat at his bedside, cradling his hand in yours.
You tried to remember sweet things to talk about – spring and its flowers, family dinners, Hershey bars from his native Pennsylvania, anything at all so he would know he was not alone. The men in the adjacent beds grew quiet, the only sound the insistent rain striking the roof and the fading breaths of your patient until even those were gone too. Confirming Dusty had passed by checking his pulse, you shifted his body to lay flat on the cot and covered him with the blanket, standing with a start to find Bucky leaning against the wall, soaked to the skin, watching quietly.
“You know where his friends are bunking?” He asked in a hushed voice, and you nodded, fishing out his chart to find the number of his combine, providing it softly. “I’ll tell ‘em.”
“Thank you, Major Egan.” You nodded, looking quickly as Menzies arrived to note the time of death as you glanced back at another meaningless loss, wondering when it could all just be over.
Bucky’s knuckles brushed against yours gently and you offered him the ghost of a smile before Chalmers was calling for you. “Try and stay dry, this is perfect trench foot weather.” You gave him a meaningful look, willing him to not become another tally on the death sheet, another hole in the POW graveyard.
Bucky nodded sharply in return. “Doin’ my best, angelfish.”
“Good.” You breathed before rushing off to try and keep someone else alive.
Another night, followed by another day of incessant rain, had the yard outside resembling a sea of mud. It kept everyone trapped indoors, even the prisoners who had been sleeping outside found their fellow men making room wedged between sleeping palettes lest people get swept away in the night. There was no meeting Bucky out back whilst doing laundry, nor any excuse to sneak off to quiet corners for a moment of privacy. There was simply too much to do and so all you were able to share, when he and his compatriots delivered another allotment of black bread that day, was an intense look of yearning before duty pulled you away once more.
The state of the tent had been weighing on your mind as it sagged lower and lower beneath the three-day onslaught of water, and it was no surprise when the canvas gave way the morning of the 25th, a mighty sound of rending fabric echoing through the space. A deluge of frigid, accumulated rainwater poured down onto the three men who had the misfortune of being positioned below the gaping tear, its ragged ends flapping in the breeze. Grabbing some towels of rough cotton, you were rushing along the slickened wooden floor to try and move them, dry them off, when the entire corner of the tent lurched and collapsed with a groan and further cries of distress.
“Help!!” Was all you had the mental capacity to yell in the face of the sight before you, hoping to summon Menzies and Chalmers.
To your immense surprise and relief, a flood of men began to pour in from the yard, most likely summoned by the sight of the collapse, but also perhaps your scream. As the lot of you began to unearth men from beneath the debris, you recognized Bucky’s friend with the gold teeth – Hambone, he had called him – as well as the brunette who had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt over ‘angel face.’
“Where should we put ‘em, angelfish?” Bucky’s voice broke through the cacophony from behind you and you turned back to him quickly, wondering when he had arrived.
“In the hall, towards my room.” You thought quickly on your feet, the very last available space in the hospital coming to mind.
With over half of the tent still intact, you worked with the group of volunteers to reinforce the structure that remained standing and ensure the men resting there were all right. Mercifully, the rain slowed for the first time in days, before stopping altogether. Barricading off the collapsed portion of the tent with the sodden, unusable cots, you turned to take stock of the rest of the patients, pleased to find them resting as comfortably as possible. You were drenched and filthy, but that was a secondary concern. Squelching your way inside, you gnawed on your lip to see a total of eight patients now sheltered in the hall with no bedding to speak of.
The feel of a towel being draped over your shoulders jerked your head to the right to see Bucky roughly rubbing at his dripping curls with a towel of his own.
“I am once again in your debt, Major Egan.” You sniffed, wringing out your shirt slightly into the rough cotton.
“Don’t mention it. I’m guessing the only beds you have for them are out there in Lake Moosburg?”
A small, incredulous snort escaped you despite your ragged state and he huffed an exhausted laugh in reply. Shaking your head with a sigh, you furrowed your brows. “We’ve got nothing but a few more towels, and an abundance of dirty rags and bandages…It stopped raining though.” You tagged on the tiniest piece of good news and lifted your knuckles to rap against the wooden wall for good luck, to help it hold, grinning fondly as he practically mirrored the motion.
“Small mercies. I’ll see if I can convince some of the others to part with their blankets in the name of the unwell. I’ll be back, angelfish.”
“You’re a good man, John Clarence Egan.” You murmured tenderly.
Bucky froze, eyeing you intently, unmoving. Not even breathing for nearly a minute before he exhaled heavily. “Suppose you did warn me you’d weaponize my full name, angelfish…” He rasped, fingers wrapping around your wrist to squeeze in a subtle but emotive gesture, his thumb stroking across the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, making you shiver.
“Sorry.” You whispered, having not anticipated the heaviness of the blow it would land, but Bucky quickly shook his head.
“I look forward to you almost killing me again, soon.” He smirked and squeezed one last time before releasing his grip on you to head outside, sloshing his way around the camp to scrounge up enough bedding to keep the displaced patients comfortable.
A variety of guards and their officers came to inspect the damage throughout the day, Lieutenant Colonel Clark making his presence felt as he appeared on Bucky’s heels and immediately demanded the tent be repaired to provide appropriate care for the men.
The next morning dawned sunny for the first time since the 21st, but the cheer brought by the change of the weather was significantly dampened by the appearance of the skeletal figures of Russian labourers. You had glimpsed them from time to time through the barbed wire of the fence behind the hospital, ghoulish figures forced to work in the kitchens, on camp maintenance and repairs, and burying the dead, but you had never been this close to them before. Clearly summoned to complete the repairs on the corner of the hospital tent, they moved in a slow shuffle, clothing barely more than limp rags around their spindly frames. Rumor had it they did not even receive Red Cross ration boxes, subsisting solely on the scraps provided by the SS camp administrators.
Your heart ached at the sight, and you longed to smuggle them food or something of comfort, but they were, at all times, surrounded by a ring of guards to keep them separate. To keep them apart from the rest of the POWs. Casting sympathetic glances their way, you collected the rest of the cots and bedding they unearthed from beneath the partial collapse and shifted it all outside to dry out in the sunshine, noting the increased presence of guards kept Bucky and his compatriots from dropping by.
You assumed the same would be true throughout the 27th as well, however, shortly after the sun reached its zenith, you straightened from a patient’s bedside to see him leading in an unfamiliar face, the shorter man cradling a bloody hand to his chest.
“McLeod here sliced himself good on one of the ration tins.”
“Sorry to trouble you, Ma’am, it just won’t seem to stop bleeding.” The Scottish brogue tumbling from McLeod’s lips matched his shock of red hair impeccably, even if it was a bit difficult to decipher.
“Take a seat right here and we’ll take a look.” You smiled and gestured to one of the freshly dried cots, wedged between other patients at it awaited the completion of its normal resting place.
As you perched on the edge of the cot beside him, setting a pile of bandages in your lap, you noted Bucky eyeing the crowd of SS guards and their waif-like labourers hard at work in the corner of the tent. Gathering McLeod’s injured hand in yours, you gently dabbed at the blood pooling in his palm, nodding as the depth of his cut was revealed.
“Think you might need some stitches here, let me fetch the surgeon.” You smiled reassuringly, pressing a wad of bandages over the wound, coaxing him to apply pressure to it before approaching Chalmers who was working just a few beds away from the construction zone.
The clatter of tools striking the wooden floor caught your attention before the frail body of a workman collapsed to the ground. Acting on instinct, you surged forward to check on him, a professional hazard when on duty in a hospital. The nearest guard, not quite so tall as the others and thereby twice as mean to make up for it, barked at you sharply.
“Get back, schwester.”
He gave you little warning before the butt of his rifle cracked against your shoulder, making you lurch back in pain and chastisement. The cramped quarters combined with the mud-slickened floorboards to send you sprawling backwards onto your hip, mortified, but as you immediately tried to scramble back up to your feet, a wall of humanity was in your way.
“She’s just tryna do her job, keep your shirt on.” You recognized Bucky’s terse growl first, followed by Chalmer’s British accent, made all the crisper in his annoyance.
“You would strike a woman who is only trying to help an unwell man?!”
Sliding backward across the slimy wood, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder.
“Let’s get you on your feet, lass.” McLeod grasped your elbow with his uninjured hand and hoisted you up despite the way your boots seemed reluctant to find purchase on the ground, holding you steady until you nodded that you were, in fact, stable.
“Nein!” The guard shouted back through the men who had formed a barricade between you. “No help!”
Frowning deeply you balled your fists to see the Russian POW laying in the mud, unaided, unacknowledged by any of the guards or his fellow labourers.
“Nurse, go get cleaned up.” Chalmers’ orders snapped your eyes to his face, and you swallowed tightly before turning on your heel, making your way to the utility room to fetch some water.
You could vaguely hear the surgeon arguing for the man’s life as you transitioned from the tent into the main hospital building, but you narrowed your focus to carefully stepping over the men sheltering in the hallway. To trying not to cry at the meaninglessness of it all. Stopping at your room to grab your wash basin, you looked yourself over in the mirror, sighing as you were thankfully not as mud stained as Chalmers’ order led you to believe. Bucky’s reflection as he peered into the room made you turn sharply to face him, gulping back tears as there were patients just steps away.
“You hurt?” He asked softly, seizing your hands.
You shook your head quickly. “Just a little bruised, but I’ll live.”
Bucky tugged on your hands to pull you against him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. “You’d better.”
Burrowing your face into his neck, you could only muster a nod in reply, clinging to him, careful not to hurt him, until you felt able to take more than just the tiniest sips of air for breaths. As the crushing weight lifted from your chest, you lifted your head to look at him apologetically. “Sorry…”
“Don’t apologise, angelfish, you were just trying to help that poor man.” He sighed, pressing his lips to your forehead. You felt one of his hands leave your back and heard him huff a laugh. “You might want to change your shirt though, your back’s covered in mud.”
Tensing, you craned your neck to look over your shoulder, muttering bitterly. “So that’s what Major Chalmers meant…”
“I’ll get you some fresh water and make myself scarce, too many goons watching.”
Nodding softly, you passed him the basin, hoping the construction would be done soon and things could go back to their bleak yet relative normalcy. As if hearing your wishes for the first time in months, the universe actually conspired to have the repairs to the hospital tent completed that evening, all eight patients returned to the cots in the corner, the hallway cleared. Everyone seemed to breathe a little easier that night as you settled them down for sleep, awaking to yet another gloriously sunny day and finally the chance to catch up on the overwhelming backload of laundry.
Setting your water to boil out back and prepping your wash basins, you returned to the hospital to collect the pails of rags and used bandages, smiling warmly as you found Chalmers in conversation with Bucky about one of the American patients. He sent you a friendly nod without breaking his concentration and you bent down to grab the pail that rested between the central desk and the cot where one of the medium-term residents, Pete Thompson from Ohio, was recovering quite well.
“Nurse, you gotta be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He gushed, as he was prone to do, fluttering his long, dark eyelashes.
The young man had lain it on pretty thick since the moment he had arrived several weeks ago, before traversing a brutal course of bronchitis, which he was thankfully coming out the other side of.
“Oh come off it, Thompson.” You laughed warmly. “You boys are so desperate for female company, I’m sure you would propose to Eleanor Roosevelt if she had the misfortune of crossing your paths in this place.”
The guffaw your joke earned had you grinning brightly in return, and you made sure he was comfortable before turning to grab the last couple buckets, blinking to find them in Bucky’s hands.
“This all of ‘em?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, leading him out the back way to set your load down in the nearly dry yard.
You hard barely turned around when his lips were crashing into yours, hands gripping your elbows, kissing you breathless.
“Wha…” You tilted your head at him, stunned, when he finally pulled back.
“That’s for slandering our First Lady but also diminishing yourself. Couldn’t just kiss you right there in front of everyone though, angelfish. Specially not that soldier boy getting fresh with you. Had to wait ‘till we were alone.” He smirked and pressed his lips against the tip of your nose, making you giggle airily.
“John Clarence Egan, never change.” You sighed dreamily.
His chest rumbled softly before his lips surged forward, already parted, to take advantage of your surprise and slide his tongue along yours hungrily. In retrospect, his ‘attack’ may have been well warranted, give your twice use of his full name. It was also not unwelcome, making you cling to his shoulders and whimper down his throat as he seemed to taste every inch of your mouth. The way the hair dusting his upper lip brushed against your face threatened to undo your knees, your head swimming with lack of oxygen and emotion until the sharp snap of the door’s hinges had Bucky wrenching back from you.
Pressing your lips together to take greedy breaths through your nostrils, you watched Menzies moodily deliver a missed bucket of rags, eyeing the pair of you suspiciously.
“Best move along Major, we have guests inspecting the handiwork of our unfortunate neighbours.”
Bucky nodded to him firmly, sucking in a deep breath as though to muster a reply. “Thanks for the heads up, Captain. See you around, angelfish.”
He tipped his imaginary cap to you, and you nodded in return, watching him disappear around the side of the building, heart hammering beneath your sternum, before lurching back to focus on the task at hand. To say that your thoughts stayed to him often throughout the course of the day would be an understatement.
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Read Part Four
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8
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pien-art · 9 months
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-FAQ-
Hello! I've gained a whole bunch of followers lately and I've been getting a lot of questions about commissions, what my setup is, what brushes I use, etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it to answer everyone's questions at once !
Putting them under the cut <3
Commissions:
Commission prices are listed in my pinned post. You can send me a private message about your commission idea and we can get to talking :) It is helpful to have enough references handy (character, outfit, descriptions etc)
I am generally a fast drawer but I also have a job and a physical disability so there might be moments I can't work on your commission. But that is never longer than a few days at most.
Payment is upfront, the full amount and via paypal only. I know this might seem a bit scary but unfortunately there are a lot of people who end up not paying for commissions and I want to avoid that.
During the process I will send you frequent updates and will ask for input, to see if it is going in the direction you want. You can ask for changes during the sketching progress but once I've started on line-art and coloring, no big changes will happen. (You can for example ask for a different color for a shirt etc, but not for a different prop or pose or expression)
When it is completed, I will send the drawing to you via email. The drawing will remain mine and it is not to be sold or profited of by the person who commissioned me. If the commission is for something commercial/for selling, that needs to be discussed. I prefer to do drawings only for personal use!
For more questions, my dms/asks are open :)
How long have I been doing digital art:
I've been drawing digitally for about 5 years now i think? But before that I've been drawing and painting traditionally literally since the moment I could pick up a pencil.
Set-up:
It's just me and my ipad and apple pencil laying on my bed. I wouldn't even know where to begin for those whole multi-monitor/screen setups ;-; I draw only with Procreate
Brushes:
I tend to play with different brushes from time to time to get different textures, but generally i use the same few for most of my drawings/styles. My favorite one is the Peppermint Brush, for sketching. I use it in every drawing i make! I always sketch with it, and often do the line-art with it as well! And it makes for a nice textured brush for rendering as well! (i used it for a lot of rendering of the armor in this drawing)
The (procreate) brushes i use a lot are
for medieval style: inking - Ink Bleed (for line-art) artistic - Quoll (for coloring)
for general style: calligraphy - Chalk (coloring/rendering) sketching - Peppermint (line-art/sketching)
for realism: calligraphy - Shale Brush (full rendering) Also using the shale brush for smudging and erasing when drawing realistic
for lineart: smooth pencil from this pack by Heygiudi
How/why do you choose a base color:
I tend to look at a few different things when deciding on a base color/color palette.
the overall color of the reference pic
the color i associate with who or what i am drawing
the feeling/vibe i want to give off with that drawing
color has a BIG impact on the vibe of a drawing, so it is something i keep in mind when im drawing.
Using a color as a base to start, helps a lot with my drawing process. It helps me pick out other colors so they match better. It helps me get light/dark values right. And the chalk brush i use, has gaps between the strokes, so the base color will always come through a little. Having the same color come through in the entire drawing, helps pull all the colors together if that makes sense? I always start with a solid base color when i am painting traditionally as well!
Advice:
PRACTICE!!! just keep drawing and practice. I know this is such generic advice but truly practice is The Way. Learn from other artists but don't compare yourself to them. Everyone's artistic journey is different and there's no "good" or "bad". And most importantly make sure that you have fun when you're making stuff :3
I also learn a lot by studying art I admire and love. Figuring out what it is I like about it. (for example, the line thickness or the shapes or texture etc), and try to incorporate that in my own style in a way that is not directly copying or stealing.
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ryanmarshallryan · 2 months
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I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!
I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.
DIET BACKFIRED
I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.
I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.
Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”
“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”
“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.
“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.
After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.
“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.
“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.
“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.
“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.
Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”
After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.
Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.
“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”
I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.
Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”
In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.
“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.
“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”
“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”
Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.
As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.
“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.
“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”
“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.
“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.
“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.
I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”
Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.
“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.
“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”
“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”
“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.
I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.
Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.
I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.
“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.
“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’
My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”
“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”
“But why would you -”
“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.
“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”
“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.
I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”
“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.
“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.
“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”
“And what have you discovered?”
“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.
“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”
“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”
I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?
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zaebucca · 6 months
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About scale, process, palette and canvas: a few considerations on pixel art as a medium
User moredogproblems answered an interesting and legitimate question by another, DiscountEarly125, regarding my work and canvas size. He also perfectly isolated two central concepts of pixel art, which are scale and process. Canvas size, which was the theme of DiscountEarly125's specific request, is more of a dependent variable to those two aforementioned concepts, rather than a starting point. I hope the following considerations I shared may help or prompt some other ideas, but this is what I could come up with 15-ish years of experience with pixel art (and a few more years of art and media studies). I was quite in the mood of writing down these few thoughts that have been floating for a while. I apologize as this may also result in a confusing wall of text, but it is all part of a my work and research, and I would love to polish all the material, hopefully with some thoughts, insights from other colleagues, as well as pictures and materials!
A. Scale and canvas size It is true that the bigger the canvas, the more distance one may visually create from pixel art, but I personally think this is to be possibly considered a matter of perceiving pixels, rather than a fundative problem of the medium. In fact I concur with the idea of "process makes the medium" rather than identifying pixel art as how (evidently) pixeled the result feels. The general picture, or the sum of pixels, though, is a really important matter to the medium nonetheless! Pixels themselves work in relation one with another, so it's their overall result that gives context and makes the subject recognizable. This relationship between pixels links back to all the art fundamentals that each artist is taught, from color theory to shape and composition - and so on. So, the canvas size debate usually boils down to a matter of scale or necessity of your subjects. As long as the dimension (canvas) of your subject (as in: a drawing of an apple, a character sprite, a mockup environment) allows you to operate, control and keep an eye on the quantity (number/area of pixels together) and quality (color, shaping of multiple pixels, texturing obtained through color and shapes) of isolated single pixels or pixeled areas, you're in the pixel art universe. The other way around to define the matter of scaling: in order to be operating pixel art fundamentals and techniques, your subject has to be on a scale that allows you to apply principles of pixel art within the space of your canvas and your personal style. These very same principles, or basics, can be applied with different results and extent to bigger and smaller canvases alike, each with their own specific difficulties and variables. It is important to adapt your scale when learning, and trying classic canvases per subject like "16x16px" (standard tile or character sprite unit, tied to older consoles and screen ratios, it's a bit complicated there) is always a nice idea - they also tend to be industry benchmarks and necessities so in case you'd like to consider a professional output, that's very useful.
Scale also applies to the array of colors, and there lies the concept of palette: a number of single hexadecimal hues we are using for each single pixel. Any single pixel can have one hexadecimal color only.
Consequentially it is absolutely true that either a huge canvas or a palette too broad may prevent a viewer from perceiving immediately the "nature" of your medium, namely seeing square pixels, recognizing a certain amount of color - or more thoroughly recognizing that you made some choices for each subject on a pixel level. What could possibly happen on a huge canvas (without zooming in) is that you can't really grasp the pixels, but just the "overall picture" - and that may not differ too much from digital, raster art, which is of course also based on pixels. Therein appearently lies a sort of threshold that is really hard to pin down for us pixel artists, as it depends on screen size, visualization methods, distance, filters and lots of other inherently subjective parts.
This kinda is my case sometimes: I make big environments (possibly too big, and too detailed in each part I tell myself) that are a sum of many lesser parts: both tilesets and sprites that relate (but not strictly adhere) to a basic space unit that is 16x16pixels. You can indeed consider scale in a broader sense as a subdivision or magnification issue, much alike squinting your eyes to focus on a picture's overall contrast or, conversely, analyzing its fundamental parts with a magnifying glass, and then a microscope - an analogy as follows:
a. the picture as a whole is like a colorful rock that you can analyze by magnifying its grain. b. the characters, geographical elements and textures, works like the different substances that compose the rock and give its visible characteristics grain and complexity, c. single pixels constitute the very atoms of those previously recognized substances.
I mean "atom" in the traditional, classical meaning of indivisible, fundative object. That's a "quantized" part of information, which for pixel art is ultimately color (or a binary value, like yes/no black/white). If you were, for example, to crop some parts of my work - let's say 160x144 pixels (a gameboy screen resolution in pixels) you would see the substances that are characters and elements of nature, and when you zoom in again, every atom becomes visible as a single entity of color. There are 29 different type of "atoms" in Ruin Valley as in different, singularly hexadecimal colors that work together in different combinations and shapes to create different substances and characters. 18 of them are used for the different qualities of the environment, and 11 more for extra hues for characters and other elements to pop out a bit.
It's really interesting to see how many pixel artists push this "threshold" of pixel art canvases to the extremely small or the extremely big, whereas, notably, palettes are less open to growth: it is indeed my opinion that pixel art tends to quantize color (quality) over than dimension (quantity). Palettes, notably, do not grow exponentially, but tend to a lower, fixed, controlled amount of individual values instead. This usually gives the artist the true possibility and toolkit through which is possible to think about/with pixels. In other words: color (or its absence) is the founding unit and identity of pixel art as a digital medium.
B. Pixels as process or pixels as objective? Pixels themselves (as strange as that may sound!) are not to be considered an objective of pixel art, I think, but the founding matter of its research as a medium instead. I think that making pixel art is not just devoting oneself to show those jagged, squarey areas or blunt edges that we all know and love: this is just one of the possible aesthetics that pixel art conveys or adopts - especially on small canvases. Pixel art is not about denouncing itself as pixels, but, rather, embracing the square, atomic unit to build an ensemble that conveys a content or a style. That's the important part of the discourse that emancipated pixel art into being a medium, and not just an aesthetic choice or style of representation. Again: process makes this medium. Speaking of that, I consider pixel art as part of a broader family of "quantized art", namely media that operate on/with "indivisible, founding bricks and unities" that can assume a certain quality (color, mainly) within a certain quantity (palette, canvas size) and in relation to its surroundings to describe something. This puts pixel art, with its specifics and with a certain degree of semplification, among other mediums such as cross-stitch, bead art, construction sets, textile art (on a warp and weft basis), (micro-)mosaics and others.
A classic threshold example of process vs objective: oekaki art. Oekaki art - which I love and also happen to make from time to time - doesn't really work or "think" specifically on a pixel base: it doesn't place pixels per se, but uses pixel-based areas and textures on bigger canvases with a certain degree of freedom, like one would normally do with brushes on raster digital art programs (adobe ps, gimp, clip studio and so on) in order to convey an aesthetic with fewer colors and a certain line style and texturing. That way, oekaki uses and knows pixels in a deep way, but doesn't see them primarily in a quantized way. As a result the "overall picture" shows pixels to a certain extent, and it's possible to recognize distinct pixels for each part, but the objective is not an analysis and use of pixel and quantized information, but the use of an aesthetic based upon accessibility of resources, their control and a certain rendering style.
A huge part of pixel art is its absolute accessibility: everyone with a fairly outdated computer or screen and a basic drawing program can study the medium. To be fair, it's indeed considering accessiblity that I highly support an inclusive approach to the term "pixel art" and I think traditional oekaki is a close, beautiful relative that builds upon the rules and techniques of pixel art and pixel rendering, yet keeping its identity as its very own medium - somehow like a dress may be built around/upon textile design. Anyway, boundaries are meant to be crossed and I think there definitely are lots of oekaki and pixel-based art that meet traditional pixel art mid-way - or further. I also think the "is it pixel art?" discourse possibly ensuing - and generally speaking any media belonging purist ontology - is a treacherous, slippery terrain leading to excesses, and this is not my focus today, neither am I able to tackle that subject extensively at the moment.
C. Conclusions and a few good exercises Everything above may be farfetched or too complicated as a starting point. I tried to write all down as orderly as possible. The point of this (possibly discouraging) analysis and the reasoning between scale and process is that (pixel) art is about trying different canvases, and reasoning on one's subject and objective, rather than limiting oneself to presets sizes or styles. It's important to choose something that resonates with us and, in doing so, thinking about other, more interesting limitations: that's the discourse about quantity of space and quality in color. Limiting is the best possible exercise and one I wholeheartedly encourage: by doing so we are progressively delving deeper on the basics, as we learn the fundamental relationships between shapes and colors that we can achieve through pixels. A few good exercises that I too implemented in my own workflow come to mind: 1. Trying different canvases (or sizes) for the same subject (sprite, character art, illustration or so on). This helps a lot finding a comfortable size to apply pixel techniques, as well as getting a hold over fundamentals such as aliasing, linework, conventional representation and so on. 2. Trying different palettes for the same subject, both by varying colors themselves (therefore learning about values and contrast and readability, as well as atmosphere and mood!) or singular hues and their components, in order to discover possible relationship between them. Have fun! 3. Reducing the width of the palette progressively for the same subject: reducing the number of singular colors forces a reasoning on shapes, rapresentation. You may go from 1-bit art (just black/white) to 3 colors, 4, 8 and so on. We'll not talk about transparency as a singular color there, but if you happen to be interested in retro art, transparency counts to the palette size. This exercise is very useful in rendering, and possibly tricky. And definitely fun. :') 4. Choosing an objective and usage of our work: for example trying to learn about old pixel art limitations for games, in order to reason within specifics. Get inspired by traditional games (spriters-resource is your best friend here, in case you have a specific retrogame you're thinking of)! I will probably talk about limitations and style on another post. 5. Four eyes (and other multiples) are better than two: try to talk with people and friends and other artists you trust and feel comfortable with to get their point of view. This can be scary, I know, especially at the beginning. You're not forced to, of course, but if you do (in a safespace) there's lots you can learn about concepts such as readability, subject recognition, rendering and composition. Our eyes and brains get accustomed to something, and pixel art being a rather analytic medium made of synergies, subtle changes, limitations and conventions is especially tricky on the artist's eyes on the long term. Either way, the important thing about pixel art is understanding that this medium is about recognizing and enjoying the process rather than the eventual aesthetic and in order to do so the best choice is to start simple, small, with few colors and techniques at a time! Have fun and hit me up with your progress and considerations. :')
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doughylove · 10 days
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▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ repost from old bloggo ꒰ 𝓓.𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 ꒱ neuvillette & gn reader ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ when neuvillette first spots you in a crowd of patrons, there's something quite strange and unprecedented about his behaviour. he first notices your attire as it is the thing that stands out most on you from afar, but his attention quickly diverts from that when he picks up on a faint glimmer of green refracting against his blue irises.
a large jade pin nestled in the bundles of hair just above your ear; it has him stiffening and gripping his cane tighter when he notices the expensive jewelry because it just looks so beautiful, even from this distance. he internally makes note that green is your colour. it has to be, he thinks, otherwise, why does it look so stunning on you?
he wants to see it better, up close, against your hair, if it makes your smile brighter, creating the most beautiful palette with your skin― he wonders what scent you're wearing tonight too, and he smiles coyly to himself in thought about that.
the idea has him sauntering over soundlessly from where he stood with wriothesley, who in turn, was looking around mindlessly with a glass of champagne in hand. the duke outreaches to try and catch the latters attention, and ultimately, falls on deaf ears when he now notices why neuvillette was so focused from before.
his dance should be arriving soon too, wriothesley hums to himself, downing the sparkling alcohol in one shot.
"it's you, y/n. good evening. you've come, just as promised."
when neuvillette breaks into the conversation, your face instantly lights up at the call of your name. "monsieur neuvillette! thank you for inviting me here tonight. everything is set up so beautifully! all thanks to you, that is."
a deep chuckle emits from his chest and he picks up a glass from a barkeep circling the ballroom, giving them a quick nod before turning back to you.
"mes sucre d’orge, have you forgotten that we are a couple? please, just address me by my surname neuvillette, if you must. there is no need for formalities."
the people who you were priorly conversing with all flush in sync at the endearing pet name, and one of your friends in the group signals you off with their hand when you look at them, giving you the 'you're good to go bestie!' thumbs up.
you swallow thickly before turning back to the tall gentleman, the apples of your cheeks growing warm under his gaze. neuvillette then hands you one of the drinks from his gloves and you take it willingly, twirling it around at its base with the tips of your jittery fingers.
he then motions you in front of him to engage in idle chatter, and you flick him a small smile before absent-mindedly putting your hair back in place behind the pin.
the two of you walk slowly― it was more him encouraging you than actually speaking as a whole himself, but he missed hearing the sound of your voice. it seemed like you were just as busy as he was with work, helping out navia's business in the spina di rosula; no one seemed to catch a break, but now was the perfect opportunity for that.
neuvillette suddenly grabs the glass out of your hand mid conversation as you stutter and places both of them on the table. he takes you into his glove, kissing your knuckles with direct eye contact. he then pulls you flush against his chest with a little gasp escaping your lips, one hand coming up to rest in the small of your back.
he leans in to whisper, "mes petit fleur, you look so captivating tonight. i've been staring at you for a while now and i couldn't help but feel a little envious of all these eyes on you, quand tu devrais être juste à moi seul."
you wince and fluster at the mention of his possession, the lilt of his french accent sending shivers down your spine, especially in front of so many people who were practically ogling the two of you― his face was merely inches away from yours, and you could practically feel every passion laced behind his words.
"may i have this dance, mes amour?"
dazed for a good five seconds, you sharply nod your head a little too hard after being brought back to reality, and neuvillette drags you into an open spot in the room. you join your left hand with his right shoulder, slinking and intertwining your right fingers into his left fingers.
the dance starts off slow; foreheads touching, movements on par with each other to the rhythm of the atmosphere's melody. groups of people notice the two of you dancing and it compels you to glance into the audience nervously. neuvillette is quick to tilt your back over his forearm and you let out a small gasp, him pulling you straight up and thumbing the tip of your chin.
he gives you this reassuring smile, a warm and unphased one, and it makes you grin up at him, your tongue running over your teeth in your mouth.
"i thought you'd be the little scary cat tonight." to tease him.
neuvillette twirls you in that moment, "i don't think scared would be the correct term to describe how i'm feeling right now. more...excited."
you rolls your eyes as you pull away from him, both of your hands now joining tightly with his. you fling yourself back into his chest, stepping onto your tiptoes to ghost the skin of his lips but don't kiss him.
he inhales sharply from this and the music resets, making you stand flat on your feet again. you disconnect from his hold and walk over to attain more champagne. he watches you from a distance, looking you up and down before ending at your eyes.
he then slowly walks over to you, grabbing the glass from your hand this time round. before you could walk off, he pulls you by the wrist and presses his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.
it definitely caught you off guard; you didn't know if it was the fact that neuvillette was so brave out in public with watchful eyes on him. or if this kiss actually meant something to him. he was acting a little strange tonight―
the longing sensation neuvillette would often feel every time he'd catch you walking down the bustling streets of fontaine's inner city, did numbers on his heart and mind. the two of you are dating, but business grew the two of you further and further apart.
the thought of loving someone so much to the point that his chest hurt, made him feel like he was human after all; sad or upset or even misplaced wouldn't be the right words to describe how he viewed himself alongside humanity. it would be like if a middle child was loved equally by their parents.
it was one of those things; the feeling of being an ordinary person; of being a droplet out of thousands in a rain cloud made him feel more at home when he knew you were descending with him. your heart was practically his and his heart was all yours. combined together, it created life―
neuvillette leans back, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, and he purses his lips, shifting his head away from you in sudden embarrassment. you noticed he was going to say something in that moment, and how vulnerable he looks under the chandelier makes you shiver.
"take me home, mon mari. i want to go home, with you. will you spend the night with me?"
neuvillette slowly lifts his head, bringing your hand in his one final time before kissing it solidly for a good five seconds. your lips form a thin line with a shiver crawling up your spine.
"if its with you, i'd do anything."
you cock you eyebrow at him teasingly as he diconnects his lips, "anything?"
"hmm, don't get too cheeky, mes coeur. i might get the wrong idea."
you lean into him, feathering your lips over his, "then get the wrong idea."
﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉
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thefairestfacts · 9 months
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Excuse me!?Nobody has ever done a proper Dappling's headcanons YET??
...let's get to busyness now,shall we?
Darling didn't tell Apple about the kiss right away.
Apple ALMOST figured it out on its own
Eventually, Darling finally told her, and she was like "Well at this point it was kind of obvious"
Usually, Apple is scared of "trying new things" but this time it feels more intriguing
Darling was 100% the kiss would upset Apple or else that she has ruined her Happily ever after, she kind of apologised to her. But Apple has changed her perception of happy ending.
Eventually, all of this is sudden for Apple, so Apple said that she didn't know if she liked Darling back (yet), but that she wanted to find out
They continued the feature of "A time of wonder" together, and have study dates
Then they wanted to expand the feature by analizing other stories and fairytales. They also do it by watching movies together (eheheh) and "analize" it
Their first outings were not in very romantic places, both wanted to be as chill as possible with eachother
Apple is always consulting her friends for love advice(Briar,Raven and Ashlynn are so done with her)and Darling taking "revenge" on Dexter because he was always consulting her for Raven.
Darling has been a special guest in Cupid's podcast multiple time. And any reference she makes to Apple White is purely coincidental.
(Darling doesn't know that, but Apple is taking love advice also by Cupid)
Darling loves carrying Apple in bridal style
Apple thinks Darling is perfect,like, phisically and morally and EVERYTHING. The perfect princess, she would say.
Darling loves Apple plump body ♡
"Look at that big æss ,look at that juicy bœty"😏 -Darling
Apple calls her "Darling" as a petname than remembers it's her actual name (it happens often)
Darling flirts with words and vey often, she actually treat Apple like a princess (even in pubblic lmao get a room)
"Ooh pfff stop iiit...actually don't" -Apple
The princess flirts more with gestures and "body language" (she did it before too, but she didn't even realize it)
matching hairclip because I say so
they don't have much in common, maybe two things or Three
They both love books, they pledge in the research of knowledge.
Same family trauma🤙
That's it lmao, but is not much of a problem
Apple is a mess, though she has all the self confidence in the whole world she worries about being nice enough and to have a pleasent presentation(hair,outfit ecc...)
Darling has grown through time, they're kiss gave her more confidence,but still, she's a mess too.
To most of people, Apple looks like a born out gifted queen or even a selfish person, to Darling she's strong minded but also someone she wants protecc because too innocent for this world </3
Apple once bought a bag of candies and marshmallows, as she picked up a marshmallow to eat it she saw that its colors were simular to Darling's palette. She now managed to call her like that.
Their first kiss was so natural, no pressure of destiny or anything else. Just pure love.
Both their family are not very happy about their relationship
First comes Snow White, she is obsessed with "carry on the lineage" and of course Darling and Apple can't have kids and Snow doesn't want to even hear about adoption
Second comes King Charming, he's not upset because they are gurls, "just" doesn't understand why not his son Daring
Darling and Apple eventually started dating even harder (and help eachother to fight back their parents)
Now Apple can't even look at Darling's face without placing kisses because "She has such a kissable face"
🤚😭💞💕
Darling fell first,but Apple fell harder♡
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seokmthw · 1 year
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blushing! | seok matthew
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⇢ pairing: jealous!matthew x makeup artist!reader
⇢ warnings: fluff
⇢ word count: 721
prompt: #21 "wait a minute, are you jealous?
⇢ note: as a matthew stan, writing this was both good and horrible for my heart, LOL. i hope you all enjoy this endearing little drabble of this lovely boy :3
JOIN MY TAGLIST!
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being zb1’s makeup artist had its perks, but it certainly had its challenges as well. while you loved hanging out with the boys, and especially your boyfriend, matthew, the headache, sometimes a migraine depending on the day, that typically accompanied your time with them was unmatched to any other ones you’ve experienced. 
today’s just so happened to be from gyuvin and gunwook screaming at the top of their lungs whenever they had the chance to - if you were being completely honest, it was almost always them that caused the pain to creep up into every part of your skull. however, their performances were in a few hours and you knew you needed to get their makeup done, which is why you were currently stood in front of jiwoong, brush in your hand and your fingers nimbly blending out his eyeshadow.
you pulled away for a moment, sighed softly as you dipped the brush back into the eyeshadow palette in an attempt to get more pigment. jiwoong opened his eyes, his dark irises trained on you as you brought your hand up to gently rubbed your temples, “is everything okay, y/n?”
“yeah, i just have a bit of a headache is all,” you admitted, shifting your gaze to the boys wrestling around on the floor behind you, chuckling as you added, “it’s because of them, but i don’t have the heart to say anything, and they really aren’t a bother if they’re having fun.”
“yeah, they can be pretty annoying,” he mused, “i can go get you some medicine to try and help if you want?” you nodded softly at his offer, watching as he rose to his feet and rummaged through his bag for a moment, returning to you with two pills in his hand and a fresh water bottle outstretched to you.
you smiled, graciously taking them from his hands and downing the medicine quickly before returning back to his makeup, light and comfortable conversation falling between the both of you as you did so. you added the remaining finishing touches, your hand under his chin, moving his head around to ensure you got everything perfectly before you sent him on his way, thanking him again for the medicine to ease your headache. 
you scanned the room, settling your gaze onto matthew, calling, “hey love, it’s your turn.”
the boy rose from his spot on the couch, plopping down in front of you with a pout on his lips and arms crossed over his chest. you smiled at him, eyebrow quirked up before you decided to just dip into the makeup and begin applying it to him. he barely responded to you each time you asked him something or attempted to make conversation, which led you to believe something was going on inside of his brain. 
you stopped applying his foundation momentarily, “what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” he tried to argue, but the defensiveness laced in his voice gave him away. averting his stare elsewhere, huffing as he said, “why didn’t you ask me to get you medicine if you weren’t feeling well?”
a grin tugged at the corners of your lips, a light laugh bubbling from your lungs as you asked, “wait a minute, are you jealous?”
a deep, pink blush dusted the apples of matthew’s cheeks and heated his ears, “no.”
“yes you are,” you joked, tilting his head back toward you so you could get a better look at him. he looked flustered, angry at himself for having made it obvious, though you knew no matter how hard he tried to hide it that it would have shown through in some way, “baby, it was just him being nice, you have nothing to worry about.”
“but what if i wanted to take care of you?” he retorted, his pouty behavior warming your heart that much more, “you’re my partner, afterall.”
you leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, catching him by surprise and causing his face to flush to almost red, “you’re cute like this.”
“y/n~” he whined, feet tapping against the floor and brows furrowing in frustration, “just promise me next time you don’t feel good, you’ll ask me to help.”
“okay, dork, i promise i will.”
he finally flashed a bright smile at you, kissing you once more before stating, “good.”
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felice-jaganshi · 2 months
Text
My Fallen Apple
Lucifer X Reader
Chapter 3
It's been a week, and you've been texting Lucifer every day since you left. You sometimes send him selfies with your friends or new places around heaven, and he does the same, sort of introducing you to the seven sins and the other rings through the pictures. It's a great time, really!
But now comes the hard part. You told your friends you had a “secret date” with someone and refused to say who. You also told them not to worry if you didn't answer anything till the next morning, as that just meant the date went really good.  
You made your way to where Adam had shoved you off before. You thankfully had managed to avoid him for the week. He was apparently “very busy” with higher angel stuff, not that you cared.
 
You took a deep breath, making sure your phone and backpack were secure before taking the leap!
You were free falling for a majority of the fall, pulling out your wings only when the castle was in sight. But before you could get too close something like a white missile came zooming up to meet you!
 
“You came! You really came back!” It was Lucifer, he'd come up to meet you halfway. He looked stunning, his wings out and on display. You can't help staring.
 
“wow… I've never seen someone with six wings before! Everyone I know has two or four.” He chuckled and danced around you in the air, showing off.
“Well, I am the strongest angel ever created by the OG big man himself.” You giggle at his antics, he was such a charmer. Suddenly you find yourself scooped into his arms, “come on, I got something really cool to show you!” 
You tuck in your wings and let him carry you around. He opened a portal and flew through. “Now, normally human souls can't go to the other rings, but since I'm literally the king , I can get you special exceptions to go anywhere at all, as long as you're with me.” 
He smiled, it had a smugness to it. Pride. But it was different from when Adam was being prideful and showing off, this time it was endearing and charming. Rather than obnoxious and irritating.
 
Next thing you knew, he was landing in front of a fancy restaurant. “A good friend of mine runs the place. I booked us a reservation.” As you entered there was sensual music playing and demons everywhere. But really, they didn't look that much different from angels. Other than a darker color palette on average.
As you were seated, almost immediately a giant demon made mostly of blue fire rushed over to your table! 
 
“Luci, baby! Oh it's been so long since you dined at my place!” He scooped the king up in his arms and squished him to his chest, rocking back and forth and looking so happy!
 
“Oh come on Ozzy! Has it really been that long?!” He laughed, and hugged back. Ozzy frowned and set him back down.
 
“Yes. Ever since you and She had a fight here, you haven't been back. That was 30 years ago, luci.” You hide behind the menu while this back and forth occurs. Another demon suddenly comes up behind you and grabs your chair, leaning over you and looking upside down! You drop the menu and try not to scream from surprise.
 
“And who's this little cutie? Is she the one who finally got you to leave pride and visit all of us?” His voice was raspy and he looked like a clown. 
 
“Hi… I'm-” before you can say your name, he turns your chair, making you spin round in circles for a bit. 
 
Lucifer smiled, “yeah she is, my new best friend.”
 
Ozzy gasped, “new best friend? Am I being replaced?!”
 
“Hey hey, no! Buddy! You're my brother, all, well, 5 of you are my family! I love you guys! She's just the newest addition to that family. That's all.” He then smiled at you. You were so dizzy you could hardly hold his gaze. “Yo Fizz, I think you overdid it.”
 
Fizzarolli looked you over, “oops. Sorry babe, you alright? No hurling on me now.” He made his way back to Ozzy's shoulders.
 
“I'll… be fine. Just gimme a second.” You take a few seconds to reorient yourself and take a sip of water before smiling at him. “All good.” He smiled back at you.
 
“Good, I hope this isn't too much for you. This is only your second time hanging out with me.”
 
“Hm, only second time and you brought her to my place? Luci, you certainly do move fast! And I thought I was the master of lust~.” He teased Lucifer, then went to your side. “Thanks for getting him out of the house sweetheart, we owe you a big one.” His voice was really sweet and he placed a warm hand in the middle of your shoulders. 
 
“It's been a pleasure to know him. Did you say you're the master of lust? Would that make you…”
 
“Asmodeus, the sin of lust, at your service baby girl.” He winked. “Would you like any recommendations for dinner? I can tell you all of Luci's favorites.”
 
“Oh, sure.” You were a little nervous now. “I'm not used to being anywhere this fancy. I feel like I'm underdressed for this kind of place…” 
 
“Oh honey, don't worry about that. You're literally here with a king. You can get away with anything when you're with him .” 
_______
 
After dinner, Lucifer took you back to his castle and you looked at more duckies together.
When he turned his back, an impulse came to mind. Hide in the pile of ducks. And well, why the hell not?
 
“Oh and this one- Becca? Hello?” He looked around and didn't see you. He then heard a squeak from your pile as you accidentally squish a duck. He grins, his voice going low, “oh my, looks like i got a rogue angel to hunt down.” He then chuckled and you felt butterflies in your gut. Oh no, why was that hot?!
The next thing you know, he's diving into the pile of ducks! He quickly finds you and you're now pinned beneath him, “So, what was the plan from here? Wait for me to leave so you can run around my palace unsupervised?” He smiled like the cat that caught the canary and tilted his head to the side.
 
“Um… there wasn't really a plan. Just sounded like a fun thing to do.” You were blushing and nervous, you placed your hands on his shoulders, not sure if he'd try to make a move or not. Would you even be upset if he did? He seems to suddenly become aware of your positions as you touch him. He pulls back quickly!
 
“Oh, whoops! Sorry Becca, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He adjusted his tie nervously, standing up. You get up as well.
 
“I'm not uncomfortable Luci. But, if you wanted today to be a date, you should have said so. I would have dressed nicer.” He looks shocked by your words, a blush forming on his cheeks.
 
“No no no no!” He waves his hands dramatically before pointing to his ring. “I- I just wanted you to meet my friends! I'm totally married!” He was panicking now.
 
“But your wife has been missing for seven years?” You have to ask, “Did she take your daughter with her?” He sighed and shook his head.
 
“No, Charlie is an adult doing her own thing, that's all. And lilith… She and I… I don't know anymore. She promised me forever, and I want to believe this is just a rough patch and we'll get through it but… she hasn't even spoken to Charlie all this time either…” He looked more upset by that than her leaving him.” 
You give him another hug, “mind if I stayed the night? I brought a change of clothes and a toothbrush. I wanna spend more time with you.” He hugs back.
 
“Yeah, I have a guest room you can stay in.”
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bixels · 10 months
Note
How do you pick out colour pallets for your characters? (Specifically the Mane 6 human designs) they're so good!!
I'll stick to the Mane 6 so far.
I paired everyone up first so I can design their colors as duos: Rainbow Dash + Fluttershy, Rarity + AJ, Pinkie + Twilight.
Rainbow and Fluttershy are noisy vs. quiet (visually).
Rainbow Dash obviously needs to be super colorful, but I couldn't go total blow-out rainbow with her, which isn't the goal of the design challenge. To stick to the era, I gave her scarf tie and pants colorful but natural dyed-thread colors: teal, orange, pink, green, and red. The vest, on the other hand, was given the bright primary colors of her rainbow-lightning-bolt cutie mark (the diamond patterns are meant to look like a bolt or explosion). Each character gets an accent color too for shadows, and I gave Rainbow a deep purple to make her skintone pop as much as possible.
Fluttershy's the opposite. I designed her palette to be duochromatic: just rose pink and yellow, with a hint of mint green. All her colors are very desaturated as well, though the yellow clothes help her stand out. Unlike Rainbow, any ornaments in dress come in small places, like lace edges, small butterfly patterns, bows, and earrings, as I feel Fluttershy would still enjoy accessorizing.
Rarity and AJ are cold vs. hot (visually, again).
Rarity's given very artificial, unnatural colors to give an impression of wealth and status. I decided to go with a deep blue rather than purple so she doesn't get mixed with Twilight's palette. I also kept her mostly monochromatic to give the sense of neatness and grace. Her palette is simple enough: pink skin, blue clothes, teal accents. Variations come in the clothing itself: patterns, accessories, fur linings, buttons, etc.
AJ, on the other hand, is given very earthy, warm tones. I actually referenced Minecraft terracotta blocks when designing her.
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I made green her primary color since no other character carries it. The red and green's meant to make her look a bit like an apple. Weird note, but I'm really proud of the dark teal in her jeans. It looks great against the orange of her chaps. AJ's palette was surprisingly hard to pin down, as I was afraid the yellow/orange skin-tone, hat, and hair would muddy her face. Had to fiddle with it a lot to get it where I want (oftentimes, the green would make her look like a park ranger), but throwing in a blue shadow accent really helped pull everything together.
Haven't gotten to the last two yet, but Pinkie's is definitely going to be crazy and bright. Here's a sneak peak of it, actually:
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Thanks for the ask! I really like talking about my design process.
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denaliwrites · 7 months
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Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale
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Alec Hardy x GN!Reader
Summary: You and Alec partake in the annual Broadchurch Pumpkin Carving Contest, but things go rather sideways.
Soundtrack: Pumpkin Cowboy by Brian David Gilbert
Requests: Open!
Warnings: Alec is not a basic white girl.
You had thought that convincing the Broadchurch DI to enter the annual Pumpkin Carving Contest would be fun, help him integrate into the community better, and meet people in a context that did not involve crime.
You had been wrong.
Sure, the actual contest had gone swimmingly up to a point. You didn't win, but it was fun. Until it wasn't.
First, one of the local pub owners had gotten too drunk and caused a scene. Then, one of the village kids had gone missing (he was found an hour later eating a candy apple as if nothing had happened). Then, someone had injured themselves with the carving tools (how? you were unsure).
Overall, it was just hard to really focus on the activity at hand.
Also, your pumpkins sucked.
You blamed the multiple distractions.
You did get a consolation prize of a free drink ticket, which you used for a pint of Guinness, so at least there was that.
"I'm sorry," Alec said as you walked home. "I know you really wanted me to be normal today."
You sighed. "It's not your fault." He had his arm around your shoulder, making it easy to lightly bump against him as you walked. "I know it's hard for you to shut work off... especially when it just keeps coming at you like that."
"It really did," he groused, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Just one thing after another, all day."
The two of you walked in silence for a stretch after that, until Alec brought you to a halt outside a coffee shop. "Would you like something?" he asked, tossing his head towards the cafe. "Something to make up for today."
"You don't have to do that," you said, smiling. "But, sure. Large pumpkin spice latte, please."
"Y'ken," he said as he parted from you, "I've never had a pumpkin spice latte."
He did not give you the opportunity to respond. He was gone in an instant, stepping inside to order your drinks. You waited outside for him to come back, your stunned expression never leaving you.
He eventually returned, handing you your drink. It took him a minute to notice your shocked look.
"What is it?" he asked, and you could tell he was totally oblivious.
"You've never had a pumpkin spice latte?" you finally asked.
"... No," he answered unsurely, blinking. "Should I've?"
"Well... I mean... probably? Maybe? It's just that, like, everyone's had at least one by now."
"Except me."
"See, that's where you're wrong, because I have a pumpkin spice latte right here, and you're going to try it." You plucked his coffee out of his hand, replacing it with your latte.
He stared dumbfounded at it for a moment.
"You're supposed to drink it," you said in amusement, watching him. "It won't bite, Alec."
Hesitantly, he took a sip. The expression he made afterward was not entirely pleased, but it wasn't completely disgusted. In terms of Alec's reactions, that wasn't a terrible sign.
He handed the latte back to you and took his own coffee back in one swift move, then took a palette-cleansing sip of his drink. "I never want to taste that again," he said, motioning to your latte.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad!"
"Is this because we lost the pumpkin carving contest? Are you punishing me?" he asked jokingly, turning to look at you. "I did say I was sorry."
"It's not that!" you whined, shoving at his shoulder playfully. You were met with a chuckle. "Do you really not like it?"
"It's... fine," he answered honestly. "I'm not gonna go orderin' it but it's not the worst thing I've ever had, either."
Well, for Alec, that was a win.
"I'll get you," you said jovially with a smirk. "One of these days, you'll like pumpkin spice."
What he couldn't bear to tell you, was that he'd hated it. Could not stand the taste of it. And the idea of having to ever have that terrible flavor anywhere near his mouth ever again terrified him.
But, the idea of "converting" him made you happy, so he played along, hoping for his own sake that he did end up liking the stuff through sheer force of will.
And, he still felt bad about the pumpkin carving contest. While you were still asleep in the early hours of the morning, he snuck out of bed and ran to the shops, picking up two pumpkins and a carving kit for the two of you to enjoy alone at home.
When you woke up and saw his gift, not only were you pleased as punch, but you insisted on carving them right away.
The previous day had had some bad spots, but that day was perfect.
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eqt-95 · 6 months
Text
a new kind of romance, pt 5
part 4 | frosting
🍄 | could we? wood we?
“Oh look, a mushr-ooph!”
And then what was a breathless morning became a breathless morning smeared in mud and leaf-tangled hair and a pout the size of Metropolis sitting on Kara’s lower lip.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the outdoorsy one?” Lena laughed, and sure, her rosy cheeks and amber scarf hung around her neck and loose curls tumbling over her shoulders helped temper Kara’s flare of frustration at another thing gone wrong. And sure, maybe Lena was extra glowy because of the warm fall colors and that fought Kara’s own annoyance of slipping and tripping and falling - again.
But only barely.
Because while Lena was being her perfect, soft, perfect, kind, perfect self, Kara was powerless and awkward and now inelegantly in those same fall colors and pouting.
It had been a great idea a week earlier; maybe even the best idea Kara Danvers had ever had: a Saturday-morning hike with her very best friend to an outlook of the city painted in an autumnal palette followed by a stop at an apple orchard for some cider and cinnamon sugar donuts with that same very best friend, all ending with a viewing party of David Attenbourough’s soothing narration back at Kara’s tucked in close to - you guessed it - Kara’s very - very - best friend. It was flawless. It was perfect. It was exactly how Kara wanted to spend every Saturday for the rest of her life. Heck, every Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and… well, every day.
Except when she planned it a week ago, Kara hadn’t expected it to drizzle or that a National City crisis would burn out her powers.
So pout she did while Lena cautiously toed down the steep hill, dressed in warm flannels and a deep green jacket and gosh, she looked so pretty. How did she always look so pretty?
“Come on, there’s still a whole hill to climb,” a pair of pretty, unpainted lips said and Kara blinked out of her dazed stupor.
“Or maybe we can just call it quits and get cocoa and a couple sticky buns at noonans?” Kara asked hopefully, tucking her pout away.
“I can’t believe my ears,” Lena huffed, offering an outstretched hand. “Is Kara Zor El quitting on me?”
“No,” Kara huffed like a petulant child, climbing to her feet. The lower lip threatened to perch again. “It’d just be nice if, you know-oah!”
Words were ripped out from under Kara with the same slipperiness that sent her sprawling moments earlier. Only this time, she was met with a very different set of tangled limbs and breathless huffs because this time there was a flannel-clad Lena to negotiate.
And that negotiation might have felt exactly like the Princess Bride tumble if the Princess Bride tumble had been Buttercup (Lena) and Westley (Kara) tumbling together down a smaller hill covered in damp leaves with Buttercup (Lena) landing on top of Westley (Kara). 
Except there were some key differences. The biggest, Kara would argue, was that Lena was way prettier than Robin Wright. The next biggest was that their tumble was objectively far more romantic because Lena was laughing and tucking her face into the crook of Kara’s neck and holding tight at her waist even after they’d rolled to a stop and maybe Kara wanted to stay like this forever and ever, wet ground be damned.
Not that Kara romanticized things about her friend - her best friend. The word had never crossed her Pulitzer-prize-winning mind. This was simple platonic adoration. 
Because how could she not adore the dimples blossoming across Lena’s cheeks, or admire her laughter reverberating through their entwined form, or cherish the freckle peeking out from her disheveled scarf, or revere the way her lips looked so soft and pink, or delight in the lock of hair that her own hand reached up and tucked behind Lena’s ear.
And yea, maybe since her hand was already there, Kara let the pad of her thumb brush the smudge of dirt that sat along Lena’s creamy cheekbone because how could she not? And sure, maybe that gesture - that platonic gesture made time slow and Lena quiet with a sudden eye-locking focus before letting out a quiet, breathy sigh that made Kara feel things in ways that were certainly not platonic but definitely not not good feeling. 
And maybe it wasn’t fair that Kara was friends with the most perfect person in the whole world because maybe, just maybe, she wanted to romanticize the idea of tumbling down a hill together and landing tangled and breathless and watching with slow, agonizing curiosity as Lena’s lips drew closer (or was it Kara’s that leaned nearer?) because then if she did that - if she romanticized that, it might mean that maybe, just maybe they could, maybe they would-
“My hero,” Lena grinned, her cheeks rosy and breath warm against the chilly air.
And then there was the crinkle of leaves.
And then there was a ghost of Lena’s warmth.
And then there was a hand extended toward her.
“Come on Supergirl, we’ve still got a mountain to climb.”
And maybe Kara didn’t know how to say what she wanted, because of course it would be silly to ask Lena to stay and to sit in the damp leaves and to feel the cold creep up while the sun rose and climbed and set on them. 
So she didn’t say any of that. Instead she accepted Lena’s offered hand and swallowed hard against the uncertainty in her throat and carefully climbed the thirty-seven steps back to the safety of the trail.
Kara’s feet wavered once there, her whole self unmoving except for the way her eyes glanced between where they came from and where they were meant to go. And then she glanced back down the hill to where they’d unexpectedly tumbled and wondered why they couldn’t just keep down that path.
“You ok?” came Lena’s voice, having closed the distance with her brow furrowed in concern. “Did you hurt anything?”
Kara shook her head and pressed her mouth into a smile. “No, just thinking.”
Lena eyed her, a silent ‘about?’ lobbed, and if Kara looked hard enough she might have seen the cautious hope in the way Lena watched her. And if Kara had looked hard enough, she might have seen that cautious hope flicker and dim when Kara patted her own stomach.
“Do you think there are snacks at the top?”
And, already well-practiced, Lena broke into a smile, a small eye-roll of affection bringing a smirk to Kara’s own face.
“It’s amazing that even without powers you’re still this hungry,” Lena replied, taking the lead along the battered, well-worn path.
“It’s a gift?”
“Or curse,” Lena said with a quick backwards wink that made Kara want to tumble all over again. 
Instead she followed.
“We’re still stopping for donuts though, right?” Kara called, hurrying to catch up. Always trying to catch up.
- - - - - - - - - part 6 | cuddles
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