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centipedelightning · 1 year

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Hobbies!

headcanons about what kind of hobbies i think some of the skeles have. this post includes undertale and underfell sans and papyrus. i want to smooch these guys so bad y’all.

| Undertale & Underfell || fluff |

Hobbies: you are here | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

words: 1045

Sans

Canonically it’s trombone, and he knows how to sew

He started learning how to sew pretty young (out of necessity) so he’s really good now. He made papyrus’s costume after all! He’s actually a pretty skilled seamstress and super super good at making barely visible, perfectly blended alterations to clothing. He’d be better at mending if he cared to, but he isn’t bad.

The trombone was probably in whatever the underground equivalent of his second year of high school.

Yes he was and still is a band kid sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

Other than in game canon, I see him doing origami. He found a box set of books (beginner, intermediate, and advanced) at the dump in great condition and decided to take it up.

He used to make a bunch of little characters and animals for babybones Papyrus to play with.

He makes so many paper stars. Like two of those really big mason jar fulls with a third actively being filled.

It became a bit of a coping mechanism to be able to pick up scraps of paper and make little things quickly and mindlessly. Not to mention the chance to make a wish

More than once he may or may not have used torn slips of blueprints and schematics for projects…. Oops

Papyrus

He’s so babygirl girliepop

He loves puzzles but that’s already covered by playing the game and this is not written to rehash the canon

So instead I will tell you about the million and one crafts he does (no I won't)

He so so crafty and creative so technically he does a lot of different things, but I see him loving making decor items. Stuff like rock painting and recycled garden decor. Yk those bottle cap flowers for your garden? Stuff like that.

His front garden is so cute because of all the stuff he put in it.

The rocks he paints are just random local forest and river stones. The paints are all natural and watershed safe. Ecological awareness queen.

He mostly does those dot patterns when and places them all around the garden and pathways. Sometimes he’ll do little faces or bugs to mix it up

ZUMBA omg

He’s such a Zumba girl you have no clue. He loves the fun danciness of it while still being a good workout. He’s very 90s fashion-wise so you know he’s in those brightly colored body suits.

He lovesss putting together and painting model figures. Kinda like dnd minis but I see him being more into put it together yourself robot sets (like Gundams or whatever they’re called)

Y’all he’s so down bad for sexy robots you can’t tell me he wouldn’t love Gundams. Just look at how he acts towards his action figures AND METTATON HIMSELF. He’s so tragic and so real tbh.

Red

He’s my artsy babygirl.

If you’ve read my headcanon post about him you’ll know.

He’s not very good, but he does do landscape paintings every now and then. Those times are more when he randomly decides to take a walk around a local park or something. He’s more interested in studying other artists’ work than doing it himself.

Onto an actual hobby: Whittling!

He discovered the hobby kinda on his own in the underground. Whenever he was forced to show up to his sentry station and couldn’t find a way to run off, he’d pick up sticks and cut them down to nothing with a pocket knife. Over time he started carving little shapes and figures into the sticks. He’d usually just make simple bone attacks or snow poffs. Sometimes if he found a bigger branch, he’d make replicas of some of the other royal guards or random machines.

Topside he makes so many animals. Like so many. His favorite things to make are birds. He has so many different types of whittled birds all over his room. There’s boxes in his closet overflowing with finished and half finished bird carvings. They’re also in the windows and you can see them walking past their house.

If he’s feeling fancy he’ll pull out the woodstain and give them a little depth to make the species more obvious.

He makes other animals too of course, but they’re usually gifts. He makes a bunch of forest animals for Frisk (their favorites are rabbits and deer).

He made an MTT carving Once when Edge was going through it and was increasingly stressed for like a month straight. Red is a bit of a hater so jacking anything MTT was like pulling teeth. You gotta do what you gotta do for the happiness of your siblings I'm afraid.

A lot of people see him working as a mechanic and I agree, but that’s his career and jobs can’t be hobbies so I’m not gonna go into depth.

Edge

Ok consider for a second: (silk) flower arranging

For one, I headcanon him working as a professional makeup artist on the surface so its not completely left field,

For two, I’m right and you know it.

He does it as casually as you can imagine Edge being casual. Mostly dining table centerpieces and hallways vases. He does silk flowers for places he doesn’t check as often (like hallways) but since he’s classy he dumps the extra G for the fancy fake flowers.

The real flowers are in foyers and on tables. He even takes the occasional flower arranging class in different disciplines to be able to have the skill to arrange any flower in any style.

Edge is such a granny so I think weaving would be reasonable too.

Originally he started out darning his clothes so they would last a few more months, but since he got topside he does a lot of more artsy woven pieces on those small lap sized looms.

He’s not too picky about the actual design; they’re usually classy and fancy and a bit pretentious like him but he’s not actually all that picky about it. He mostly makes scarves and wall hangs that he sells at the local farmers market and craft fairs.

All his friends do have specially designed and stunningly made scarves that he spent hours laboring away on. He gets to critical levels of happiness when he sees them wearing his hard work.

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silverfoxstole · 10 months

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It’s done!

After ten days of work (and another three for a waistcoat I’m not that happy with; see below), the NotD coat is finished! Woohoo!

Overall, I’m really pleased with it, which is just as well as it’s taken so much time (and grief!). I worked out that if I’d paid myself minimum wage for all the hours I put in the labour alone would amount to about £500. One of my ex colleagues used to suggest I set up a dressmaking business and wouldn’t believe me when I told her it wouldn’t be cost effective as the amount of labour involved would make everything too expensive.

Anyway, I have taken quite a lot of photos, so you can see how it turned out:

This got long so I’ll stick the rest behind a cut.

I ended up adding some extra fabric to the tails, as they were sticking out at an angle and didn’t look right. It means an extra seam but it’s not that visible and I much prefer it this way, with more fullness at the back (and it properly covers my bum, which is very important!):

Though it looks fine on the dummy when I put it on I’m not convinced I didn’t raise the back waist seam a bit too far, but it’s sitting on my waist so… *shrugs* I don’t often look at myself from behind so it probably doesn’t matter that much.

After sewing on the two back buttons I changed my mind and went with the covered ones in the end, deciding on reflection that those I bought last week were a bit too pale. They would have fitted better if I’d made the binding more of a contrast (which I’m glad I didn’t as it would have been more obvious that it’s not exactly perfect in some places). I had to make the buttonholes manually as there was no way the automatic buttonhole foot wouldn’t get caught at some point. I haven’t sewn any that way since I first started out six years ago and was using my mother’s old machine! All the ones I’ve owned have had an automatic function so I had to practice a bit to remind myself how to do it. Thankfully they’ve turned out well.

I also solved the problem of the gap between the collar and lapel by stitching them together. It works a treat!

Though I’ve made a miniature version for Eight Bear, this is the first time I’ve tried to replicate an existing garment for myself (the Dark Eyes coat was an interpretation rather than a direct copy), and I am actually really proud that I’ve ended up with something that does look pretty much like the original, as well as Steven Ricks’s recreation, which has been a definite influence!

That said, while the coat has turned out well I’m not massively pleased with the waistcoat. I decided to make another one on a whim as I had a more accurate pattern and saw what looked like an ideal fabric but I don’t like it all that much now it’s done. It was hell to put together because the satin just started disintegrating and still is; I’ve had to sew up holes in both the pockets because the seams have just frayed straight through and I’d put them together before I thought of stabilising the edges with interfacing. It’s another men’s pattern and I should have made some adjustments but after doing so much to the coat I really couldn’t be bothered and just put it together as it was; I should really have added some length, which is ironic given the amount I had to remove from the coat, and perhaps levelled it off at the front. Consequently it’s not a great fit and sits really awkwardly on Stella as you can see, though that may have something to do with the fact that I put the buttonholes on the wrong side out of habit:

There is a watch on the end of the chain this time, because the pockets are real! I quite like the look of the waistcoat undone when I put it on, but done up not so much. There’s a lot of spare fabric in the front for some reason, which I tried to hide by smoothing it under the collar and then stitching the collar down. It hasn’t entirely worked, and it doesn’t help that the brocade is such a bouncy fabric and doesn’t press well.

Putting it all together I do think it looks better on Stella than me, but that’s probably because I rarely wear so many layers! I wish I had a better backdrop than the bedroom but it’ll have to do:

Maybe I could unbutton the waistcoat and untuck the shirt and be Eight having a casual day? I love the coat but I do feel much more comfortable wearing it over a t-shirt and jeans!

Now I just have to wait until some cooler weather to be able to put it into use. My only gripe is that there are no external pockets, either on the original or the pattern I used! Surely you’d think the Doctor would need pockets?

#sfs’s adventures in sewing #night of the doctor coat #doctor who #eighth doctor #8th doctor #costume making #sewing #dressmaking #frock coat #waistcoat #there’s a very good reason i never wear tops tucked in #i have next to no waist #definitely prefer it with jeans!

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elementwind91 · 10 days

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You Are A Queen, Part 3

Part 1! | Part 2!! | Part 4!!!! | Part 5!!!!! | Part 6 (FINALE)!!!!!!

A/N: I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS!!! and I hope you all are too! There should be at least one more part to this, but we'll see. A lot of this is coming to me as I type, tbh. But I'm surprisingly liking how this story is evolving, for it being an impulse project.

Now, as our Beloved Devil likes to say:

PART 3:

Before you knew it, it was a couple days later. Your (after)life was really starting to shape up. You and practically all the hotel staff & patrons became pretty fast friends. You loved hanging out in Angel’s room the best though. He was so much fun to talk to! Plus, an added bonus of getting to hang with his little piglet, Fat Nuggets. You loved that little dude.

Since you were rescued so quickly after getting here, you didn’t really have anything except the clothes on your back. So Charlie, being as kind and thoughtful as she is, thought you could do something with her old clothing.

She had given you the dress from the infamous “Goth-y phase” portrait Lucifer had shown you. You couldn’t help but smirk a little, trying not to giggle in front of her.

“I know it wouldn’t exactly fit like a glove, but I thought I could try to help with some modifications,” Charlie kindly offered, snapping her fingers to reveal more black fabric, trim, and other sewing supplies, including a sewing machine on your dresser. “These are all left from my…teenage years,” she says, trying yet failing to disguise her cringing face as her normal, happy self. “I realize not everyone knows how to sew…”

“Oh, that’s ok! I know how,” you replied, excited. “I actually love creating new clothing like this. It was one of my hobbies back on Earth.”

“Ooh, really? That’s cool! I hope this dress isn’t too…depressing,” Charlie said hesitantly.

“I actually love it! I loved wearing darker styles like this sometimes. It’s a perfect blank base to add my own ‘flair’,” you said in a playful manner.

Charlie giggled. “Well, I’m excited to see what you make of it! You sure you won’t need my help?”

“I shouldn’t, but I’ll let you know if I do,” you replied.

“Ok! Well, have fun!” she said, as she practically skipped out of your room. You finally let yourself giggle out loud a bit, before laying it flat on your bed to get some inspiration.

Fast forward to the next day, you basically finished the sewing part. But you wanted to add some more visual interest, and decided on using fabric paint. You catch Charlie in the lobby, asking if she happens to have some.

“No, but I think my dad just might,” she said, with a slight pondering expression.

You instantly hunch your shoulders and look to the floor, unable to stop thinking about their interaction on your first night, and how you may have overstepped with him. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t he be busy?”

“He told me he cleared his schedule today, so that he could help me with lessons later.”

That’s sweet of him, you thought. You sigh in an attempt to calm your nerves. “Ok, if you’re sure he’s not busy…”

Charlie nods and grabs your wrist, running you both up the stairs, which honestly leaves you out of breath a little. That girl must’ve been on the track team in high school or something. Jeez.

You started to feel your heart beating a little harder, and not just because of the stairs, as you both got closer to Lucifer’s door.

“Dad?” Charlie called out, while knocking on said door.

After about thirty agonizing seconds (might as well have been a century), you both finally hear a faint “Come in, sweetie!” from the other side of the door.

“He must be in his workshop. Come on in,” she said to you, opening the door to her dad’s personal suite.

You had seen his apple-shaped tower from the outside the other day, and thought it looked big enough to tilt the whole building. But it pales in comparison to how huge it looked on the inside. The power of Angelic magic, you thought.

You couldn’t help but stare in wonder, looking all around the suite and seeing all manner of circus motifs, mixed with old, Victorian style furniture and chandeliers. And of course, many portraits of Charlie. A few had him and another woman in them with Charlie. You can only assume it to be…her mom.

Turning steely-eyed, you turn back towards Charlie, who was watching you, covering her mouth a little as she giggled. “Sorry. Your expressions are just adorable,” she says admittedly, which made you blush a tiny bit from embarrassment.

Charlie starts pulling you along to the farthest door on the right, that was even more ornate than the rest of this space. A golden door, with a carving of a pond, with little ducks swimming in it. You love his over-the-top style. He surely must have what you’re looking for, and more.

“Dad! Can we come in?”

“Uhh,” Lucifer hesitates, only because he’s working on a present for his daughter. “I’ll meet you out there in a sec!” We? He wondered. Charlie’s normally the only person that visits him in his suite. After frantically putting his little surprise away, he practically runs toward the door. He shouldn’t have been so shocked to see someone with Charlie, well, perhaps, if it wasn’t you.

“Uh..Hi, sweetie,” Lucifer says, giving his daughter a side-hug while eyeing you. “Hey, Y/n”. He suddenly realizes he’s staring and trying to look away, acting cool and aloof. “What’s up?”

You shyly fold your arms together, looking more self conscious than even normally, which is saying something, for you.

“..We were just wondering if you happened to have some fabric paint for Y/n to borrow,” Charlie spoke for you.

Lucifer spies you looking at Charlie, mouthing out what he assumed was a ‘thank you’ to her, to which she responded with a reassuring smile back.

“Um, I should have some somewhere…” he says, while thinking out loud and turning back to his workshop to look. “Just one sec.” He walks back to his desk, scanning through his (lack of an) organizing system, with paint brushes spread everywhere, but somehow, no paint. Finally, he remembers the box he keeps them in, opening up a miniature version of his wings to lift himself up towards the ceiling, grabbing the box on the highest shelf.

He walks out of the room, and gives the box to you, which you struggle to hold, it’s so full of heavy paint bottles. “Oh! Sorry!” He says to you, levitating the box with his magic. “I’ll just make a portal for you,” he snapped his fingers to reveal a portal in the middle of the room. Another snap, and without even looking, Lucifer levitated the box to the floor, right beside your bed, and closed the portal.

“Uh, dad…she could’ve just used that portal to get back to her room,” Charlie chimed in.

Lucifer smacked his forehead with a frustrated sigh. “Sorry, Char-Char,” he replied, opening the portal back up again. “My mind’s been a bit scrambled all day,” he says with his pointer finger making a circular motion around his ear.

You grin and let out a quiet hum. “I feel the same all the time”. You said something! Woo!

Lucifer and Charlie responded with a slight chuckle. Lucifer was curious, though. “If I may ask…why do you need the paint?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually, uh...painting. On some old clothing that Charlie gave me.” you say sheepishly.

Lucifer’s eyes lit up a little bit. “Oh! You craft, too?” he asked. A crafting buddy! He was excited at the prospect.

“She said she would ‘add her own flair’ to the old clothes I gave her,” Charlie added, seeming a little more excited than she should’ve been, at least to you.

“Oh! Nice, nice,” Lucifer said, while his thoughts drift off into realms even he didn’t know, for a split second. “Well, have fun, Y/n! I’ll be waiting to see what you come up with. Maybe you could help me out with one of my projects sometime?” He lays the question out in the open, nervous for your response.

Your eyes light up now, looking at Lucifer with those gorgeously vivid eyes you have. “Sure! That would be cool,” you say, trying to act relaxed about it. “Just ask me whenever.”

Charlie has been eyeing you both this whole time, and it was obvious to her that there was something going on between you and her father. She was suspicious, or more accurately, curious. But she, as always, tried to assume this situation was a positive one.

You and Charlie finally give her father one last wave, before stepping over the threshold of the portal, with it dissipating a second afterwards.

“See? My dad’s not so bad,” Charlie says, with a playful flick of her wrist.

You chuckle. “I know. We’ve talked a little before. I’m just surprised to know that he likes crafting too. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised, judging by how AMAZING his suite is!” you say, dramatically opening up your arms before flinging yourself backwards on your bed, to which Charlie responded by laughing wholeheartedly.

“That’s just how he is. And hey, when one has the power he has-” Charlie snapped her fingers to reveal a dress form, with your dress already on it, and some black strappy kitten-heel sandals to go with it. “-You make your space however you want it.”

You stare wide-eyed at Charlie, jumping up from your bed and giving her a bear hug. “THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU~” you shout, as Charlie hugs you back. “You didn’t have to do that for me!”

“It’s nothing, Y/n,” Charlie started. “I just thought you’d want something to go with it, as a…nicer option for certain events~” Charlie tried (badly) to hint at something that you were refusing to realize could even be a possibility.

You scoff, playfully.”Well, I highly doubt that, but I thank you nonetheless,” you respond with a subtly accepting tone, you resigned to the idea of anyone ever being interested in you, romantically or otherwise, long ago.

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short! Besides, we’re having a little get together on the grounds in a few days. Dad’s creating a pool for the hotel!” Charlie jumped in place in excitement. She thought that would draw more people in. And it was a good idea.

This is gonna be interesting, you thought.

A/N: Slow burn, but I promise you, all the good fluff is coming soon!!!

If you like it, please tell me in the comments, or through my ask! I love hearing what people think!

~Shae <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer x reader #fluff #slow burn #a03 fanfic #fem!reader #plus sized reader #plus size

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sheliesshattered · 4 months

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I've been dealing with a little bit of a cold this last week on top of the normal spoonie-ness, so it was slow going on my most recent sewing project -- the hooded wrap, not quite a cape, not quite a shawl, definitely not a scarf, definitely not a robe thing -- which Jack says I need a better name for lol -- but with pacing and slow incremental progress, I was actually able to finish it in pretty good time.

Ironing and pinning the very long hem was the most time consuming part, but pacing myself actually allowed me to slow down and handsew all the corners into place before I put it through the sewing machine, which resulted in much crisper edges than I would have had if I was rushing to finish it. This time last week I wasn't sure if I would be able to machine sew the hem, but I actually like the look of the top stitching it produces, so I went with what was both easier and nicer looking. After all the ironing and pinning it took me nearly an hour to sew the whole thing in the machine, inching along to keep my lines straight and remove all those pins, so I don't even want to think about how long it would have taken me to handsew it, lol.

I did french seams on all the seams, since they may be seen from the outside, and turned the hem under twice at about the same width for a nice crisp matching look. The resulting hooded thing is soft and cozy and moderately warm, and can be worn a bunch of different ways, which is fun.

With the hood down and the wrap bits left to hang straight down, it's got nearly Jedi robe vibes:

One of the wraps tossed over the shoulder creates nice asymmetry:

But with both of the wraps up on the shoulder and the hood up, it's got a different feel entirely:

The fabric is a brushed cotton herringbone that grips itself reasonably well, so once the wraps are tossed over the shoulders they stay put pretty well. From the side view you can see how it just drapes nicely down the back:

And when they're tossed over the shoulders like that, the finished ends are similar in length to the center back point:

With the wraps unfolded and left long in the front, the back panel is much more visible. There's no shoulder seam at all -- the wraps just continue up over the shoulder and meet at a 45 degree angle in the back:

I was careful when I cut out the pieces and when I pinned both parts of the french seam, so that I could line up the herringbone weave neatly and get these cool chevrons at the center back:

The length in the back is enough for it to feel a bit like a cape, but not in a huge dramatic way or anything -- and Disney generally frowns on large capes and robes for Batuu Bounding, from what I've heard. But with this length I feel like my back and shoulders are covered, but the longest bit of the center back isn't so long that I actually sit on it. I wore it out of the house this weekend and was comfortable both wearing it in the car and walking around an outdoor flea market.

I have about seven yards left of this fabric, so at some point here I'm going to make a Norse-inspired apron dress out of the rest of it, to go over the fleece dress seen in the photos, which I sewed last month, and to go over lighter underdresses in the spring, and possibly on its own in the summer. I like the idea of this hood matching that apron dress, and I did draw some inspiration for Norse/viking hoods with pointed capelets in front and back, too. Not at all historically accurate, but historically-inspired, like the fleece dress.

But really my brain is all about Star Wars right now, and the Batuu Bounding for our trip to Disneyland coming up in about six weeks. The hooded wrap has a very different vibe with big boots and leather-look leggings and a fitted vest and various Star Wars-y accessories. My nb sibling described this hooded thing as 'what Luke Skywalker would wear if he was a crow witch' -- and as an irl crow witch and a non-affiliated gray Force user in my silly Star Wars OC building, I can certainly live with that, lol.

I have a few detail things for my Batuu Bounding outfit that I still want to work on, but generally I'm really happy with how it's coming together. Next up, I'm going to switch gears and work on some details to spruce up Jack's jacket for our outing, now that we've got the base-layer pieces for him figured out too. Pictures of that (and my outfit) as they start to come together.

Six weeks isn't a ton of time to get costuming pieces done in, especially without pushing myself too hard, but I also feel like both of our outfits are good to go the way they are right now. It's just, they could be cooler looking with a little more time and effort. And hey, I'm having fun with the process and it's keeping me from vibrating in place and rewatching every Star Wars movie and tv show over and over again while I count down to my birthday, lol.

#my sewing #hooded wrap #Batuu Bounding #Star Wars bounding #Disenybounding #2024 mood #long post #I am stupidly excited about this whole thing

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mainsipad · 2 years

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Antidote ffxiv

“My stump speech is,” he continued, “there is a reason why call this the Arise Festival and not the Wake-Up Festival.” “We have got to build a community that makes changes and makes things right,” he stated on the festival’s closing day. However Bassis intones that while many festivals offer escapism from turbulent cultural events, Arise is designed to engage festifarians in local and national political affairs. This year’s edition of the Arise fest did include a number of popular live and EDM music acts, including Slightly Stoopid, Thievery Corporation, Opiuo, and Trevor Hall, that perform at many other festivals around the country. “There was a time when I wouldn’t have called myself an activist, but now things are different. While such offerings are familiar to Arise veterans, what has changed recently is the urgency in which Bassis and the Arise crew have pushed its more communal and activist leanings. In addition, as in past years, last week’s event featured a wide range of workshops and presentations focused on environmental and social justice issues that ran alongside its hefty live music schedule. Bassis’ claim is a bold pronouncement, for sure, but he and his hearty team of Arise staffers and volunteers have made painstaking efforts to make that claim a reality.įrom the festival’s inception six years ago, Arise has staked a claim among a short list of conscientiously-based music festivals that promote environmentally conscious practices as a “leave no trace” event that plants a tree with every ticket purchase. And if music festival organizer, Paul Bassis is correct, the Arise Music Festival held last week outside Loveland, Colorado may well be an antidote to help stop the madness. It was a lot of work, but the hat ended up being my favorite part of the finished costume, and I'm really proud of it.Īlthough I don't have good shots of the hat's polymer details, I do have nice photos of the two medal badges from the jacket which were made using the same process.These are dangerous times in which we live. The tassel part was made with out little scraps of pleather from the rest of the hat. I baked them, painted them with metallic paint, and once they were dry I rubbed metallic eyeshadows on them to age them a bit and then sealed everything with spray on triple thick glaze. I need a better shot of them, but the details were made by hand with polymer clay. Hat worn by my lovely assistant, a can of sani-wipes from Aldi.Īfterwards I hand-stitched the band to the brim and voila! All that was left were the details. To create the pillow-y part underneath the brim, well, my ex hot glued some pleather on there to start, and I ended up hand-stitching all the way around the outer brim and the center, stuffing it with polyfill, trimming, and pleating as I went. I was able to cut this pattern out of interfacing and pleather and sew it on my machine. Thankfully this was the easiest part of the hat. My first prototype worked well enough on it's own, but when I attached it to the pillowy top part, it was way too short! I had to scrap that pattern and start all over on the base making it even longer. Next was the part that actually wraps around the head.

#Antidote ffxiv

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snidercollier92 · 2 years

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laceveritas · 5 years

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Found this while cleaning my room. It’s a WIP of the bodice of a Hélène Bezukhova dress for a Great Comet cosplay that I never finished and forgot I had even started making.

#i started this the last day of fashion camp and then forgot about it #may actually finish it now that i have my own sewing machine #the hard part will be finding the same fabric i used #since they had it there and i didn’t buy it myself #but i’m sure i can find something similar #i already have a helene cosplay but i’m trying to make a more accurate one #cosplay #cosplay wip #my costumes #costume design #theatre #great comet #natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 #npatgco1812 #helene bezukhova #helene kuragina #great comet cosplay #sewing #costumes

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writer-akihiko · 3 years

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Hi!! I know this story is finished and old already but is it ok if you make a ending where the reader ends up with Nobunaga? I kinda want angst in it.. That would be all TY and have a great day. (The story that I'm talking about is "All For Her")

All For Her - Kennyo X Reader X Yandere!Nobunaga [ALT]

PART 1, ACTUAL ENDING

I think I got carried away, but I basically got a wheel to choose some events of this story. This is my personal characterisation of Nobunaga from IkeSen as a Yandere. Actual Nobunaga would not do this; this is my take on how Nobunaga acts as a Yandere.

Warnings: Tragedy, Character Death, Yandere Content and Emotional Manipulation

"You defiled her!" Kennyo roared, unsheathing his staff. He blocked the rampant parries of the Devil King. "And you think that's love."

"Of course," Nobunaga said smugly, dodging Kennyo's swing. "This war…

It's all for her."

~○~

"This will be the last time you hold her, Kennyo."

He roared, howling at the pain of the sword. Kennyo fell to the ground, the stab to his shoulder numbing all of his senses as the blade cuts deep into his flesh.

"Perhaps YN would cast you away if I scar your face once again… Oh… How adorable she'd look to you in horror with the new scars I give you," Nobunaga teased, his menacing tone only edging his sword. "Or, I should kill you right here, and your head should be my bride's present…"

"KENNYO!"

You had come out to the battlefield since more of the injured soldiers could barely make it to the base. Despite of the fact of being on opposite sides, you still treated some of the Oda's soldiers that couldn't reach their own healers. Those with you moved their troops away as you ran to your lover.

Nobunaga pressed the blade further into Kennyo's neck, taunting you to come closer. You kept your distance, but you were horrified at Nobunaga's antics, as his words froze you on the spot. Your body and mind shut down at the thought of Kennyo being harmed. Your blood went cold, and before you knew it you had thrown yourself on top of Kennyo, protecting him from Nobunaga's swinging sword.

"How endearing," Nobunaga smiled at you, his gaze suddenly soft at seeing you. "It's been quite long, my fireball. I knew you'd come running to me."

All the strength left your body as Nobunaga ripped you away from your lover. Your will never left you, but your fear overcame it to the point you couldn't fight against the crazed man that desired you.

The Oda, as usual were efficient in wrapping up the war. Kennyo was arrested and it was claimed as a win for the Oda. The soldiers retreated and Ieyasu cared for the wounded. You'd usually see Hideyoshi and Masamune with grins on their faces, but Hideyoshi was practically expressionless and Masamune's eye only held rage but you weren't sure who it was directed to.

The Oda celebrated their grand victory with a banquet, and the Demon King kept you by his side, pampered and decorated for his eyes only. He kept you in his lap, as your being shifted to the automatic machine it used to be, pouring sake for your obsessed captor.

What sickened you to the stomach was how he announced the banquet.

"With the capture of Kennyo, I sentence him to continuous torture!"

Oh how you wanted to throw up at whoever cheered Nobunaga on...

Eventually, once Nobunaga had gotten drunk, Hideyoshi and Masamune flanked each side of Nobunaga, as Mitsuhide and Mitsunari guarded you. You made no effort to make conversation with the other warlords, for you feared what they might spill to Nobunaga, with the exception of Mitsuhide.

With how everyone was acting, you could only assume Mitsuhide messed with the sake as he was so bold to engage in conversation with you. "Princess, you must be prepared tomorrow."

"Is there something that I missed when I return?"

His voice lowered to a hush, as he explained his intentions. "Nobunaga will find my involvement with your escape. He'd execute me, but it will give you a chance to freedom."

You almost lost your stiff conduct, a drop of sake spilling onto your kimono. Yes, it was true that Mitsuhide was involved in convincing Nobunaga to let you roam to where you were taken by Kennyo, but even by then you weren't sure of his intentions. "Mitsuhide… Why?"

His hushed voiced tickled your ear as he revealed his one intention to you.

"For the woman I love. Even if I don't have your heart, I want you to bask in freedom."

~○~

The next morning's war council came, and there and then, another lower vassal accused Mitsuhide as the traitor that led their beloved Princess to Kennyo's army. The war council this time took a casual turn, as Nobunaga deemed it fit for the ladies of the court to witness the accusation from your balcony. Behind your veil, you shed a tear, sending a venomous gaze to Nobunaga.

You excused yourself from your maids, making your way out of your personal bedroom. Mitsunari should be waiting for you, as he authorised all the guards to be positioned else where. From your knowledge, Ieyasu, Masamune and Hideyoshi were in on Mitsuhide's plan too. Masamune and Ieyasu were to take charge of Kennyo's 'daily torture', while Hiedyoshi was to cause a scene by his natural rage at Mitsuhide betraying his Lord Nobunaga.

Nobunaga raised his fan, quelling the arguments amongst his vassals. "Ah… but wait, Akechi Mitsuhide isn't the only traitor amongst the Oda."

"W-What do you mean Lord Nobunaga?" Hideyoshi, who delivered slightly fake punches to Mitsuhide in his 'anger', stopped as he questioned Nobunaga. "Mitsuhide is always one to do things on his own!"

You raced through every corridor near the tenshu, trying to find Mitsunari in the hallways. Anywhere. Where could he be? Did he get-

The roars of shock from the Oda vassals rang as two guards brought none other that Ishida Mitsunari to the podium of Nobunaga, clearly bruised and beaten.

"A report from the guards came about suspicions of your vassal here to change the guards around the palace," Nobunaga said, as he ordered the guards to drop Mitsunari. "How could I not assume he was acting under your orders, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, you monkey?"

Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were both apprehended at the hands of their own friends. They were brought to their knees in front of their long time lord, as their heads were pushed down to hang in shame.

"To honour your execution, since you both are great friends," He announced, drawing his pistol from his kimono. "I shall have you both shoot each other until your bodies fall. I'll allow your families to bury your bodies and your next brothers shall carry on your clan's lines."

"Any last words?"

Hideyoshi walked up to his lord he once respected, snatching the gun into his hand. "I thank you for letting me die by the hands of an honorable warlord unlike yourself."

Nobunaga did not hold back his anger as he struck Hideyoshi across the face with his iron-ribbed fan.

"I wouldn't have done this if you returned to the Lord Nobunaga I used to serve," Hideyoshi retorted, taking his stance with the gun pointed at Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide had nothing to say to Nobunaga, except the silent nod to receive his gun. He raised it to Hideyoshi, saying his last to an old friend.

"Sorry for being a good shot."

"Don't be."

BANG!

You couldn't hold back your tears for Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide. You sobbed into your kimono, your mind being invaded by negative thoughts of your doings being the cause of their deaths. You didn't want this. You didn't want this. If only you had-

"The other two traitors are here!"

The crowd shifted as Ieyasu and Masamune made their way through the crowd, having heard the gunshots. From what you could discern, they were brought there by the jail guards by the orders of Nobunaga's messengers.

"This audience has had enough execution for the day," Nobunaga decided, looking over the three captured warlords under his hand. "However, I might as well give out the sentences now."

Ieyasu and Masamune were not bounded to any guards, but it was clear that they had long accepted their deaths. You wanted at least one of them to abandon you, to give you a sign that you weren't worth the trouble but none of them did. Those three stood their ground, as they face the Devil King himself.

"Ishida Mitsunari, under influence of Toyotomi Hideyoshi shall have a beheading for all to see," He commanded. The scribes were rapid to jot everything down, their parchment wet from the ink and not from the blood seeping into the paper. "Tokugawa Ieyasu and Date Masamune, for assisting the traitors, from this moment our alliance in dissolved. The Oda shall act on their own without your help."

"You shall be sent away. Unfortunately my authority does not reach you."

Masamune scoffed, "I wouldn't want to serve such a stupid warlord anyway."

Nobunaga shrugged it off. "May I meet you two on the battlefield, where I shall have your heads."

"May we have our revenge," Ieyasu said, walking away from the crowd, Masamune behind him.

~○~

Months had passed. Months of staying in this empty shell of yours, made to serve only Nobunaga. Before the last of his days, Mitsunari had requested to play Go with you. You apologised immensely for causing such tragedy, but Mitsunari welcomed you wholesomely. There was no hard feelings as his execution neared, and he advised you to not attend or witness it. You shed tears for Mitsunari, the handkerchief used to catch your tears delivered to Mitsunari's grave.

The day Nobunaga returned from his umpteenth war was as normal as any other day to you. You were sewing mindlessly, as you had no will to greet Nobunaga. He understood that, instead barging into your shared bedroom with familiar cloths around his arm.

He grinned as he noticed you recognise the band of cloth around his arm. "Ah, a parting gift from Ieyasu and Masamune before I took their heads. They consented to it as well, but you're not allowed to bring it around-"

"I hate you. I hate you, I HATE YOU!" You screamed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I don’t mind firecracker," He said, his grip starting to feel painful at your wrist. "You see, I didn't care if those five were traitors or not. It was my luck that they fit into the narrative."

He continued, soothing your cries. "I was only getting rid of anyone who held your attention. I was drunk at that banquet but I still loathed how they befriended you so easily… I did it for you…

It's all for you."

#yandere ikemen sengoku #yandere ikesen #yandere nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen kennyo #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen masamune #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen x reader #ikesen angst #nobunaga oda

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starshine583 · 4 years

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New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself.

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that.

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys.

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present.

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!”

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed.

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel.

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing.

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?”

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.”

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance.

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch.

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were.

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?”

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars).

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside.

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking.

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person.

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien,

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!”

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her?

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

#felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids

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arahxdjarin · 3 years

Text

Wicked Desires

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: throat fucking, some angst, some fluff too!, dom reader if you squint, unprotected sex, Loki kneeling, rough sex

Notes: I've decided to change this from a 5/6 chapter fic to a 9/10 chapter fic! so expect more from Loki and reader! I will warn you guys, next chapter is very angsty, I'm going to try to update about once a week but that may be subject to change. Enjoy besties!

Wicked Desires, Chapter 3

You place the thin, dark emerald dress on your body and tiptoe out of Loki’s chambers, two guards are stationed outside the doors, they don’t even move as you walk past them, you raise a hand in front of one of their faces, he doesn’t flinch or show any sign that he sees you there. You look down at the pendant and smile a bit realizing Loki’s magic is working. Making your way back to your chambers, you look down at the dress as it moves around you. It was quite a beautiful dress, a soft satin that clung to your skin, the entire dress being held up by two thin straps that wrap around your neck, the neckline dipping all the way down your torso, barely covering your breasts. Your back is completely exposed to the warm Asgardian spring air. There’s two high slits on either of your thighs, showing your entire leg when you walk forward. The immodesty of it caused you to blush, but you couldn’t help feeling powerful in it, it looks like you belong at Loki’s side.

You hurry into your chambers, glad to find them completely empty, you had nothing to do today besides crafting a dress for the upcoming spring celebrations, you sigh as you sit next to your sewing station deciding to busy your mind with creating a pattern until you leave for Loki’s chambers once nightfall comes.

A low whistle pulls you away from your work, you turn to see your best friend and chambermate come through the door, her arms filled with fabrics and flowers.

“Quite an extraordinary dress, does this have anything to do with why you were gone all night?” Her fingers grab the material by your hip, her eyes widening once she feels how luscious and expensive the fabric feels.

“Actually yes Risa, I was gone all night putting it together, I was hoping to use it for the spring festival but I made it a bit too risqué so it’ll be saved for a more appropriate event.” Risa’s eyes crinkle, she could always tell when you were lying but she decided to just nod her head and set the rest of her supplies down next to you.

“Well, I have to leave again but I thought I would bring you some more fabric. Are you still ok with making my dress for the festival as well?” You nod your head slowly, her harsh blue eyes still holding yours, she smiles a bit as she turns to walk towards the door again.

“You’ll have to tell me who he is at some point.” The door closes behind her but her words continue to bounce around the room, she knows you too well, of course she would notice if something was amiss. You grip the edge of the table trying to calm your breath, maybe you shouldn’t go see Loki tonight, it would be too suspicious if you were gone two nights in a row. The logical part of you knew that is exactly what you should do, but the illogical part of you, the selfish part Loki has brought out is screaming for you to go to him, let him devour you whole, feel his hands burn their mark into your skin. You clench your thighs together thinking of his words last night,

‘The smell of me, the taste of me, the feel of me, will be burned into your mind always. Because you are mine.’ How right he was, one night of passionate fucking and you were ready to throw everything to the wind to feel his lips on your skin again.

You loosen your grip on the table and slump back into your chair, staring at the fabric in front of you, your fingers run over the smooth fabric of the dress, the motion soothes your racing thoughts. Your fingers pause, you stare at the fabric and then back to the sewing machine, a small smirk tugs on your lips as a devious thought pops into your mind.

You’re hunched over your table putting the final touches on your dress when there’s a soft knock on your door. You stand up and smooth the fabric of your regular everyday skirt walking to the door to see who was behind it, you open it slightly and see a guard. He just hands you a simple piece of paper and turns to walk away. Your eyebrows raise in confusion, you open the note. The words cause you to shut the door quickly, as if anyone who walks by can somehow read the words that were obviously meant for your eyes only.

“Darling, I’ll be all yours shortly, wait for me in my chambers, if you aren’t wearing my dress then I expect you to be wearing nothing at all.”

Yours,

You fold the note up and place it in the small pocket of your skirts, moving back to the dress you just finished working on, you quickly drop your average dress to the ground and step back into the gorgeous dress Loki gave you, now with slight modifications. You fold up your dress and set it on a chair in your room, closing the door tightly. You move quickly around the common room to tidy the mess you left before finally exiting your chambers to make your way to his.

The walk is shorter than you remember, or the nerves are just higher this time. Once again the guards don’t notice your presence at all, you quietly slip into his chambers, you expect to be alone but Loki is sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes widen as he takes in your attire. He sets the glass down and stands up, never taking his eyes on you. He holds his hand out and you walk towards him, placing your hand in his own, he twirls you, the dress fans out showing him all your additions.

“Is this the dress I gave you?” His voice sends a shiver through you, it's full of curiosity and amusement.

“It is, but I needed to add my own touches to it.” His hand drops yours to touch the soft gold glittery fabric you added to cover the bodice and skirt, his hand roams across it before reaching up to touch the gold gems you added to the neckline, his hand lingers on top of your chest, his eyes meeting yours again, he smirks as his fingers inch their way underneath the neckline to rub against your nipple.

“You added to its beauty, but I do believe my note specified for you to be wearing my dress. Since you’ve gone and added to it, it’s now no longer my dress, but yours. Strip.” You glare at him as you move the straps off your shoulders letting the fabric fall off your body to pool at your feet.

“Is that better, Your Highness?” Your words drip off your tongue with malicious sarcasm. Loki’s eyes harden but the smirk never leaves his lips, he moves so quickly you don’t have time to dodge his advance, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You try to wiggle out of his hold but it’s impossible, he begins walking towards his room. He lands a loud smack to your backside before dropping you on the bed unceremoniously, you huff as your body bounces on the soft mattress. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, heat fills your body as your mind replays the events of last night when you were in quite a similar situation.

“Turn around and hang your head off the bed.” You quirk an eyebrow at him but do as he says, you hang your head off the end of the bed, now looking at Loki upside down, you take in his appearance, he’s wearing his usual leathers, his hair looks the same but he has an unmistakable glimmer in his eye, you repress another shiver when he meet your eyes. He works to undo his trousers, letting them fall to the floor before he works to undo his top, quick enough he’s as naked as you. Loki bends at the knee until his eyes are level with yours, his hand wraps around your throat as his lips crush into yours, he kisses you fiercely, his tongue making quick work into your mouth, you let out a small whimper as he nips at your lips before pulling away. He looks in your eyes, his hand tightening slightly.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now, if you need me to stop, tap my right thigh three times, do you understand?” You nod, Loki places a soft kiss to your lips before standing, breaking the kiss. You stare at the underside of his hard cock as he strokes it, his eyes fixed on your face. You open your mouth and press your tongue against the head of his cock, eliciting a soft hiss from Loki, he rubs his head against your lips for a moment, teasing both himself and you.

“Use me Loki. I’m going to enjoy this just as much as you do.” That was all the encouragement Loki needed to slam his hips forward, his cock burying itself inside your mouth, your throat constricts around him fighting the intrusion. Loki brings his hand to the side of your neck massaging gently, helping your muscles relax. You open your jaw wider, shifting your head allowing Loki to thrust with ease, his fingers shake on your skin, you let out a small whimper as the pleasure of feeling him claiming your mouth with his cock. Loki hisses through his teeth and drops his other hand to the bed next to your shoulder. You open your eyes momentarily and can only see Loki’s body looming over you, his balls moving next to your forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and move your tongue, trying to stroke the underside of him.

Loki’s hand tightens around your throat, his fingers still caressing the muscles there, keeping you calm. His thrusts are controlled and even, like he’s trying to refrain from possibly injuring you. Your mind is finally wrapping around the situation, your hands snake up from where they lay at your side clutching the duvet to scratch against his defined stomach, his hips pause for a second. Your hands move from his stomach, running over the smooth skin and muscle to his hips, you dig your nails in and swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you didn’t want him to stop. His hips resume their controlled thrusts, he lets out a soft whine as your fingers dig in deeper to the skin of his hips.

The sound was like music to your ears, you clench your thighs and rub them together, thrusting your hips upwards. You never thought you could gain so much pleasure from pleasuring someone else, but here you were writhing underneath Loki while he used your mouth and body as if you were nothing more than a pretty toy. You enjoyed it too, you loved feeling like you were his own personal sex doll, the feeling of him filling you was intoxicating and you were falling head first into an unhealthy addiction. The thought almost made you laugh, you were addicted to Loki, it was the best way to put it. The way his fingers touched you, the way his tongue seemed to know you better than you knew yourself, the way his cock felt buried deeply inside of you. It was intoxicating, addicting, you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. Which you knew you should, you should stop this. It’ll never end well, if the circumstances were different then maybe — you push the thought from your mind, you don’t need to worry yourself with that, not when Loki is moaning and groaning above you because you’re bringing him pleasure. You refocus on the moment and drag your nails down his hips, his thrust stutters, the hand by your shoulder moves and you know he’s getting close.

You think back to last night when he explained he enjoyed being hit with the crop, maybe he enjoys a bit of pain with his pleasure. You move your lips, allowing your teeth to scrape against the sensitive skin of his cock. He hisses in pleasure before he rips his cock from your mouth, he bends his knees until his eyes meet yours again, his hand tightens around your throat.

“You’re getting brave little fox, I love watching you explore pleasure” his hand moves from your throat to stroke your face, his breath is labored and his eyes still hold a look of unbridled lust. “And as much as I would love to cum in your pretty little mouth, I have so much more planned for tonight, kneel on the bed in front of me.” You scramble up quickly at his command, you sit back on your heels, looking up at Loki’s face. Even kneeling on his large bed you were still several inches shorter than him. His hands move to either side of your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin of your cheeks. You let him lean your head back, his hands move from your face to your neck. Loki leans forward and brushes his lips against your own.

“What do you want darling?” Your breath hitches as Loki turns your head to the side to run his nose along the side of your face.

“You.” Was all you were able to croak out, Loki’s warm breath fans across your face as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“And you have me, but I’m asking what you want right now.” Loki slips his tongue out and licks a stripe up your neck, he hums quietly, blowing cool air over the spot he just licked. Your fingers reach out to tangle in his hair, you turn your face to meet his eyes.

“I want to ride you, I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to shatter around you until I can no longer think of anything besides your name.” Loki’s eyes light up at your words and before you can even comprehend what’s happening he moves onto the bed pulling you onto his lap.

“Who would I be if I didn’t oblige every one of your desires and fantasies darling?” You sit straddling his lap, your fingers interlock behind his neck, he presses his forehead against yours as he guides his cock to your entrance. You both groan as you sink onto his length, his hands grip your hips to help you move. You bury your face in his neck as his cock stretches you open, you bounce up and down, cherishing the feeling of his cock buried deeply inside you. Loki’s hands massage and pull at the flesh of your hips eliciting another loud moan from your throat. His steady hold helps you keep rhythm. A sheen layer of sweat forms on the back of your neck as you continue to work yourself on his cock, the drag of it coupled with the new intense position was quickly working you to your climax.

You turn your head from his neck to capture his lips. Loki lifts one of his hands from your hips to crush your face against his. His tongue consumes your mouth in a sloppy, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as he pulls your body closer to his, your clit catching on the skin of his groin.

“Loki — Loki I want us to cum together.”

“Then I suggest you hurry little fox, you’ve had me on edge since you walked through the door in that dress.” Loki’s hands on you tightens, he moves his hips to meet each one of your thrusts, the pressure builds quickly in your lower stomach, all the skin in contact with Loki heats as you race towards your climax.

“Loki, Gods I’m going to cum!” Your orgasm hits full force, you slump against Loki’s chest as he continues to thrust upwards into you, he lets out a loud groan and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“I’m your God darling, only me.” Loki’s chest rises and falls quickly. He falls back against the bed, holding you close to his chest. His hand moving to brush your hair away from your face. You shift your hips, feeling Loki still inside you. You try to move off his lap but he holds you against his chest. Locking you in place on top of him.

“Loki, I need to go back to my own chambers tonight, my friend brought up how I didn’t come home last night. It'll be too suspicious if I’m gone again tonight.” You try to pull away again but Loki doesn’t loosen his hold on you.

“You can spare a few more hours darling.” For some reason his words anger you. You push with all your might and he finally releases you.

“Loki, you are not risking anything by seeing me, I’m risking everything. I can not be caught up in this. I will not, I’ve worked too hard to have it crumbled by you.”

“Little fox, I’ve promised you safety, I meant that. Stay with me a while longer, we’ve just gotten started.” You stand from the bed quickly, trying to ignore the wobble of your legs, you walk from his bed chambers back to where your dress lays against the ground.

“No, I need to get back before anyone else notices my absence. I’m willing to bruise your ego to make sure my reputation is not defamed.” You turn to see Loki standing naked, his face looks pained for a moment before it returns to it’s normal stoic expression. He turns his head to the side, the green glow appears, he’s suddenly fully dressed again.

“Very well then. It seems I misunderstood our arrangement.” You narrow your eyes at his words.

“Our arrangement? If I remember correctly last night we only talked about my selfishness? You allowing me to explore pleasure. Now who’s the one being selfish?” You walk closer to him, until your chests are touching. You stare into his eyes with as much intensity as you could muster.

“Then stay and continue to be selfish darling. Can you look me in my eyes and tell me that you want to leave right now?” His hand comes up to touch the side of your face but you move away and look at the ground before he can.

“It’s not about what I want Loki, I can’t be swept up into rumors.” Loki moves quickly to wrap his arms around you, his fingers moving to the straps of your dress, he slowly pushes them off your shoulders. You want to move, you know you should move but his soft touch keeps you firmly planted in your spot.

“You’re right you shouldn’t be swept into rumors, and I’ll see to it that you're not. I can charm a double of you to go to your chambers, it’ll walk past everyone and go straight to your room to sleep.” Loki pushes the straps completely off your shoulders, letting the fabric pool around your feet for the second time tonight. He pushes your hair behind your ear and kisses your lips with fervor. You finally move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Loki easily pulls you off the ground, walking towards the couch. He sits with you straddling his lap, your lips fight his for dominance, if you’re going to stay he needs to give up control. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull his head. He stares up at you in amusement.

“If I’m staying you’ll have to make it worth my while.” Loki tries to move his head but you keep a firm hold.

“I fully intend to, darling, all you have to do is ask for what you want.” You lower your mouth until it's close to his face. You feel him shiver when your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck just below his ear.

“I want to be in control darling .” Loki’s normal term of endearment falls off your lips smoothly, his hips buck up into you as his arms tighten around you.

“Anything you wish for, little fox, the control is all yours.” At his words you pull his head up and lick into his mouth.

“I think I’d like you better on your knees.” His breath catches but he’s quick to set you carefully on the couch before kneeling between your legs. “It’s a bit unfair that you're fully dressed, why don’t you change that?” The green glow appears around Loki, once it disappears you take in his full nude body again. You meet his eyes and you’re captivated by the intensity behind them, you notice his small smirk, he seems fully amused at the stunt you’ve pulled. You didn’t think you’d make it this far, your mind goes blank trying to think of how Loki commanded you last night. You just wanted to prove a point, but now you're determined to see it through.

“I think I rather like you being in charge.” Loki presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh as he speaks. You lean forward to grab his jaw, tilting his face to look up at you.

“Don’t speak unless I say so, now be good and bury your face between my legs, you said the night had barely started, why don’t you show me what else you had in mind.” Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, he presses an open mouth kiss high up on your thigh before dragging his lips closer to your center. Your fingers stroke his hair as he licks a long stripe up to your clit, his mouth latches there. Your head falls back and you let out a high pitched whine, his mouth is fucking magical. Loki wraps his fingers around your thighs, pulling them onto his shoulders. His tongue continues to swirl around your clit and the surrounding area. You tug on his hair pulling his head even closer to you. You look down and see his eyes are still trained on your face. You push the stray hairs away from his eyes, whispering praise to him. Loki hums, his eyes closing as he drives you closer to your peak. You roll your hips on his face to create more friction. Loki’s hands tighten around your thighs, his fingers scraping against your skin.

“Fingers— add your fingers, I’m so close.” His right hand peels away from your thigh and works its way to your entrance, he teases you for a moment before sinking two of his fingers into your cunt. His fingers mixed with his tongue pushes you over the edge into another mind shattering orgasm, your grip tightens on his hair as you buck your hips into his face, he moves with you and lets your orgasm work through your body in full. Loki places a few soft kisses to your inner thigh before pulling away to look at you.

“What else would you like, little fox? I’m here for you to use.” His words send another shockwave through your body. You sit up further and turn around, your fingers grip the back of the couch as you arch your back. You turn your head to look at Loki.

“Take me from behind, and don’t be gentle.” You watch as a devious smile spreads on Loki’s face, he stands to his full height, towering over you. You turn your head to keep his eye contact, he lets his fingers trail down your spine as he lines up with your entrance. You feel the blunt head of his cock rubbing against your cunt, sending more pleasure through your body. The head of his cock presses inside of you and he pauses for a second. His hands moving to your hips. He pulls you back roughly until he’s buried deeply inside of you again for the second time tonight. His fingers dig into the bruises he left the night before as he viciously thrusts into you. Your head falls forward to touch your forehead against the soft fabric of the couch. You swear this is the deepest Loki has ever been inside of you, his thrusts continue relentlessly. You arch your back more, the angle changes causing both of you to groan. You reach a hand between your thighs to rub at your over sensitive clit. Loki catches your hand and places it back on the couch before sneaking his own hand between your legs.

“Your pleasure belongs to me darling — oh I’m sorry am I allowed to talk yet?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. You throw your head back to look at him and aren’t surprised to see the signature smirk on his lips.

“Shut up and fuck me harder.” Your words wipe the smirk right off his face, his thrusts become brutal, abusing your poor cunt. His fingers speed up on your clit, yet again launching you closer to another orgasm.

“You’re so worried about your reputation darling, yet you aren’t worried for them to see you limping for the next week?” Your fingers tighten on the couch, your nails digging into the fabric deeply. If you weren’t so close to your release you would push him off you and leave right now. Loki feels you tighten and flutter around him, he leans over the couch moving his hand from your hip to cover your own.

“Stay with me tonight little fox — please.” Loki’s voice sounds strained against your ear, your heart stops for a second, you’ve never known Loki, the God of Mischief, to ever beg anyone for anything. Your fingers spread letting him interlock his own with yours as he continues the brutal rhythm.

“Just for the night.” You whisper back to him, turning your face to look at him. He lips meet yours desperately, he murmurs something against them but you're to swept up in your own pleasure to figure out what he had said. Your orgasm peeks on a particularly violent thrust, you flutter around Loki, pressing your hips back further to grind against him. Loki shifts behind you, wrapping both his arms around your stomach, his forehead presses against your spine as he continues to thrust into you, slower now. His arms are the only thing holding you up at this point, your entire body has liquified with the power of your third orgasm. Loki lets out a soft groan behind you, his teeth scraping against the skin of your back. He hips slowing to a stop. He pulls out of you as gently as possible but you still hiss at the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls. Loki lays your body against the soft couch, he gets up and works his way into the bathing room and returns quickly with a steaming towel. He presses it between your thighs to clean you. The intimacy of the action causes heat to rise to your cheeks.

You watch as his eyebrows furrow, his hand gently working the soft, warm towel between your legs, you almost giggle at how focused he looks. Once he’s satisfied with his work the towel disappears in a green glow and his eyes move to look at you.

“Lets go lay down” Loki helps you stand on your shaky legs and places a hand on the small of your back, leading you to his bed again, he places a kiss to your lips before he pulls back the duvet for you to lay down.

“I can’t keep disappearing every night to come here.” Loki sighs at your words as he gets into the bed on his respective side. He pulls you close against his body and begins to mindlessly play with your hair.

“You’re right, what about every other night?” You prop yourself up to glare at him.

“Once a week.” Loki narrows his own eyes at you. You hold his gaze until his features soften again.

“Once a week it is then, but just now you’re welcome in my bed any day of the week, you have an open invitation to my rooms.” You settle back down against his chest, his fingers move back to your hair.

“I’m only here right now because you asked so nicely, I didn’t think you had manners, it seems I was mistaken.” Loki lets out a small laugh at your playful insult.

“You’re the only one who will ever receive that treatment from me.” You turn your head to look at him, his eyes meet yours, he looks so tired, not just physically, he looks mentally exhausted.

“And why is that Loki?” Loki’s eyes light up a bit, a soft smile tugs on his lips.

“I’ve told you little fox, you’ve piqued my interest, your presence is intoxicating. I’ll do anything to keep you at my side, including asking nicely — and maybe I’ll even admit I’m wrong at some point, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late, I think my ego could rival yours now.” Loki laughs again, his fingers rub at your scalp and you’re quickly lulled into another peaceful sleep tucked next to Loki’s side.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki #loki ragnarok

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justcourttee · 4 years

Note

Okay that "Love,Right?" oneshot was wonderful but now you've got me obsessed with wondering how all the boys would fight for Mari's attention and all trying to date her omg

On an off note, I hope this came out alright. I really wanted to answer your ask but I’m running on low fumes rn. Loved thinking about this too though! I would love to read a more thought out fic, but I have to imagine it would go something like this

I could totally imagine like them all being relatively close in age. Like let’s say,

Dick 23

Jason 21

Tim 20

Mari 18

Damian 17

And Mari is almost done with her last year of lycee so she is in uber done mode until the batboys show up in Paris conveniently at the same time that the Wayne boys show up to scout out a potential new business partner.

She first meets Dick at the gymnasium that Chloe’s father had built for her when she went through a gymnastics phase but soon opened it to the public after she had moved on to whatever interested her next. Marinette is there to practice swinging mid-air to move faster in battle and what better way to do that than over a safety net 40 feet in the air?

Anywho, Dick is just arriving to blow off some steam after a particularly long day of negotiating. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the Hawkmoth mission and the need for a cover, he would’ve abandoned Tim ages ago. He finished locking up his stuff and when he moves into the acrobat section that is always empty, he isn’t sure whether to be impressed or disappointed that someone is there first. She looked nervous as she finished tying her hair into a high ponytail, her eyes calculating as if she was debating if she could make the first jump.

He wants to tell her that there is an easier way to mount, but his curiosity gets the better of him. With one last look, she closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. Without warning, she takes off down the short walkway launching her whole body into the air. Dick is sure she’s going to fall, but at the last minute she reaches out, her hand grasping the bar as she uses her momentum to flip upward, landing gracefully on top of the swinging trapeze.

Dick couldn’t help his cheers. Her eyes widened as she realized someone else was watching her and in what felt like slow motion, she lost her balance and fell onto the net below. Dick rushes over to make sure she’s okay, apologizing a million times a minute. They introduce each other and it’s like an instant connection. They spend the rest of the afternoon trying new techniques and helping each other improve their own techniques.

When Dick returns to the hotel that night, he can’t help the fact that her first swing was stuck on replay in his mind. The next day, he rushes over to the gym only to find her there again. This time, he’s determined to get her number, and surprisingly (to him) he succeeds. They spend the night trading funny memes and tiktoks. After a couple of weeks, Dick decides to try and ask her on a date. They were already close friends, I mean she trusted him enough not to drop her from forty feet in the air, that meant she trusted him right?

He shows up with a giant bouquet of roses only to receive a text message that she couldn’t make it that day. While it was a setback, it didn’t mean he was going to give up. He would show up with a bouquet of roses every day until she was there to receive them. And only then would he ask her on a date, because I can totally believe that he wouldn’t want to do it over text. It’s in-person or not at all.

The second Wayne she meets is Jason.

Muggings in Paris weren’t common with Ladybug and Chat Noir around, but it seemed to be Marinette’s lucky day as some guy just decided that a high school girl had enough money in her little purse to steal. As he backed her down an alleyway, a small hand knife pointed at her, Marinette was considering her options.

She could always try to run. After all, the guy was big and bulky, it would be hard for him to keep up with her and she doubted he wanted her bag enough to actually put up a fight. Just as she was eyeing an opening, a small sound echoed through the alleyway, one she was quite familiar with. The guy’s face looked mortified as he turned slowly to face his attacker.

The man said something in a hushed tone to the guy that Marinette couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was though, it was enough for her would-be assailant to book it out of the alleyway without a glance back. Assessing her newest threat, Marinette decided that this guy was more punk than thug. She was safe for now.

He asked her if she was okay and if she needed anything as he adjusted his gun back into his waistband. Marinette was fine, but she was curious as to how he smuggled a gun into France.

“Ah. My American accent give me away Princess?”

His french was flawless, but it was clear that he wasn’t from the area. He joked that his adopted father was rich enough for the national security to look past it. At least, she was pretty sure he was joking.

He asks if they can grab something to eat, just because a pretty girl like her shouldn’t go hungry. Marinette is tempted to decline, but her curiosity gets the better of her. They end up going to a small diner near her parent’s bakery where they spend the night flirting shamelessly, both tinging their compliments with enough sarcasm and insults that the people around them couldn’t tell if they were together or if they were related.

Exchanging numbers, the two continued to meet up for weekly dinners at that same diner as they bond over hating people and insulting/admiring each other. When Jason finally realizes his flirting may have shifted from mocking to an actual crush, he's conflicted. It’s just a couple months, at most a year in Paris, but would that really be a reason not to try? He starts bringing her small gifts to the dinners, starting out small like her favorite dessert or small rocks that reminded him of her, but he soon gets more elaborate like bringing her his favorite books to borrow and throwing in a new set of threads for her sewing machine.

He hopes that when she looks at the small gifts that she’ll start associating him with the things that make her happy and just maybe, she’ll fall for him too.

I think you guys already know where Tim is going but I have to do this

Marinette frequents a small coffee shop near the hotel that the Wayne Boys are staying in. She would just drink the coffee that her parents serve in the bakery, but they refused to let her load up her drinks with enough caffeine to get through her day.

She always shows up at 7:00a, after all, she’s gotten better at this punctuality thing over the years. The owners already expect her at this point and already have her drink ready before she even steps foot through the door.

One morning, one of the owners ask her to deliver a coffee to the young man that fell asleep at one of their tables.

“He’s the first person I’ve met whose order rivals yours Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette is impressed as she inhales the strong black coffee wafting from the mug. He definitely amped it up with two expresso shots and maybe a pump of hazelnut? If he could taste it over the bitterness of the expresso, she would be impressed.

As she sat the cup down on the table, she slid into the booth in front of him, patiently waiting for him to stir. Watching his soft exhales, Marinette felt at peace. She had never seen someone sleep so softly without moving a muscle. As quietly as she could, she brought out her sketchbook. She got about halfway through his frame when his soft breathing stopped.

Her eyes snapped up to find his blue ones studying her cautiously. Of course, she mutters out apologizes at a million miles a minute, trying to explain that she needed practice for her living art class and that she was just dropping off his coffee and she was so sorry for drawing him without his permission. As she finally trails off, Marinette is more confused than ever. She thought he was awake, his eyes studying her, but now she wasn’t so confident. She was pretty sure he was still half asleep, assuming she was some sort of hallucination.

He reached out, draining his cup of coffee without coming up for a single breath.

“I didn’t think I was this sleep-deprived. Please beautiful sleep-induced entity, draw me if you must.”

Marinette bites her lip trying not to laugh as he tiredly pulls out a laptop, typing away at seemingly nothing.

The next day, Marinette finds him in his same spot, already two empty mugs occupying the table. As she orders, she’s sure to grab an extra one for him before joining him once more. This time, Tim is the one to apologize as he realizes finally that she is a real girl and not a hallucination.

Marinette laughs it off and the briefly chat about their lives. As Marinette gets up to leave for her morning classes, she promises to meet him for coffee the next morning. Surely enough, as she walks through the door, he’s already at their booth. He waves her over, motioning to the coffee mug holding her go-to order. They come to an agreement, he allows her to draw him for practice, she offers him the occasional advice. There is sometimes small talk, but it’s mostly just full of comfort that they found in each other’s presence.

After weeks, Tim finally decides that he wants to get to know this beautiful coffee angel. He starts by asking her to meet at a bakery that he had been dying to try. As he arrives at the bakery, Marinette sheepishly admits that it was her parent’s bakery. Tim feigns ignorance, but that smirk he gives her makes her reconsider the innocent sleep-deprived man she had met weeks earlier. From now on, he has breakfast with the Dupain-Cheng family every morning. After all, your in-laws have to like you first before you can try anything else, right?

Finally, we have Damian.

They meet in the living art class. He had already taken something similar at Gotham Academy, but he was curious to see the French side of something he cherished so dearly.

At first, he hates her. She reminds him of a mixture between Dick and Tim and in all honesty, he only volunteered to pretend to be a foreign exchange student to spend the majority of the day away from his brothers.

He slowly begins to change his mind though as he is partnered with her for a partner draw project. The teacher forces them to spend all of class drawing each other how they feel the world should see their partner. It involved a lot of sharing and as she became more confident in him, he slowly felt himself opening up to this strange girl as well.

It was going fine until one day, two of her old classmates entered the classroom, trying to pick a fight with Damian. He remembered one of them, yes the sausage haired girl, her name was Lily perhaps? She tried to ask him out and he turned her down, hard. Now here she was, crying the fakest tears he had ever seen as some ombre haired woman was chewing him out.

He was fine going on ignoring them, but then the ombre haired woman reached out for his notebook, tearing it from his grasps. She glanced over it for a second before raising it above her head and slamming it into the ground. She lifted her foot to stomp on it, but she never had a chance to finish. Before Damian had even moved a muscle, Marinette was standing above her, a murderous look in her eyes. The sausage haired woman helped the girl to her feet as they retreated quickly, both of their faces pale as they sent empty threats in Marinette’s direction.

With a sigh, Marinette picked up his notebook, dusting it off gently before handing it back to him, apologizing for her ex-classmates. He wanted to let her know that he didn’t need her to look out for him, that he could handle it, but his mind flashed to the look in her eyes. If anything, his interest was now piqued by the girl.

As the project came to an end, the moment of truth had finally come. Damian showed Marinette her portrait. He had drawn her as mother nature, warm and protective of her children and cold to anyone that threatened them. He would be lying if the small blush on her face didn’t boost his pride. When she showed Damian his portrait, he couldn’t help but let his jaw drop, even slightly.

He looked like a medieval knight, posing on the defense, a slight trickle of what looked like blood dripping out the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry, please don’t think it’s weird. It’s just the more you talked, and so passionately too about how you wanted to protect everything dear to you from your family to your pets, I couldn’t help but get swept away in this idea that you were some gallant knight-”

He cut her off with a single look as his face broke into a grin. He loved it. Everyone always described him as a demon or a baby bird, but a gallant knight, it was certainly a first.

That night at the hotel, he would search google for the best ways to ask out a girl. After all, he sure as hell wasn’t asking his brothers.

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#dickinette #jasonette #timinette #daminette #maribat

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Encore - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 23 - finishing touches

You hummed around your fork as the creamy buttercream hit your tongue, looking down at your lap that held your aunt's tablet as you looked over the concept art your aunt had made for your wedding cake.

They ranged from sheet cakes with black and red swirling designs to four-tiered cakes with black and silver designs with red roses decorating the top and bottom tiers.

“these are all so pretty, I have no clue which one to choose” you sighed, setting down the fork next to the crumbs of your once existing sample cake, you and Harry had decided on the flavors a bit ago, chocolate raspberry truffle cake with raspberry glaze and chocolate buttercream and angel food with light vanilla buttercream.

Tonks, your aunt, laughed and held her hand out for the tablet, you leaning over with it and placing it in her hand “that’s no problem if you can't decide right now, there's no rush since your wedding isn’t till…have you decided when you’ll get married?” you paused at her question and shrugged, you honestly didn’t remember if you and Harry had decided on a date, almost everything was ready and set.

The place, the décor, the flowers, the bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bridesmaids, and groomsmen all chosen, their clothes and accessories ready to be of use. the flower girls were chosen and their clothes ready, the place where you would have the reception at was chosen, the food at the reception was chosen, who was going to marry you and Harry (FG offered to marry the two of you, being the one to originally separate you she wanted to officially bind you together as an apology), who was going to give you away (your aunt), the archway you were going to be married under was designed, Evie said your dress and Harrys suit was ready, the guest list was long since completed, all that was left to do was chose the cake design and decide the time and day to get married really.

“not sure yet, I’ll ask Harry the next time we talk about wedding stuff” you smiled as Tonks gave you a grin and flipped through her cake designs again.

“im sure you’ll pick the best day, now pick a cake” she slid the tablet back over to you. You picked it up and scrolled through the designs again.

You finally decided on the four-tiered cake with white fondant and silver piping designs, with black borders and red roses swirling from the top to the bottom. “great choice, now I think you have a final dress fitting to get to~” Tonks teased, standing to give you a hug and waving you off as you walked into the back to go through a portal to the descendant's universe.

You stuck your key into the storage room door lock and turned it, the portal opening behind the closed door. You swung it open and stepped into the shimmering light portal.

A moment later you stepped out into Evie's starter castle, calling out to her to let her know you were there “Evie!! Im here!” you heard her call back to you from the greenhouse turned office and you made your way over to her. “so I heard that my dress is ready?” Evie spun in her chair, facing away from the light purple dress she was working on, and nodded with a bright grin.

“All ready! Harry's suit is done too but I’ll have him come by later, try it on!” she dashed over to one of her movable dress wracks and plucked a gorgeous white dress with billowy sheen sleeves, a plunging sweetheart neckline, and a long sheer train that flowed from the back. “here you go! Now go go! I want to see the finished product on you!” she squealed, jumping in excitement as you took the dress and went to go change behind the changing screen Evie had installed a while ago for her costumers that came personally to her office.

It took a minute or two to get into the dress, with all the fabric but it was pretty easy to figure out how to put it on. Finally, you zipped up the back and picked up the skirt, and stepped out from behind the changing screen.

Evie gasped and clapped erratically “O M G it's perfect~!!! You look so amazing!!!” you let out a small laugh and let Evie lead you to her standing mirror, gasping at your reflection.

(yes im showing the design again im so damn proud of this dress i want it for my own wedding if i ever have one)

It was exactly the way you had designed it, from the small gems decorating your neckline to the white sapphire waist overlay “Evie, it's perfect” your voice cracked, pure happiness overwhelming you “it’s exactly what I wanted, and dreamed of”

“thank you so much for trusting me with it (y/n), and it's beautiful because you designed it too, you have an amazing eye for fashion” Evie giggled, holding onto your shoulders and smiling at you in the reflection of the mirror. “you are going to take Harry's breath away on your wedding day”

You laughed again, wiping the tears from your eyes and turning, wrapping your arms around Evie and hugging her tightly “thank you so much Evie” she hummed and hugged you back.

“you’re welcome (y/n), it’s the least I could do for all I've done” you raised your brow and leaned back, about to ask her what she meant before you remembered she had helped Mal kidnap you to have FG transport you back to your world.

“Still, thank you” you patted her arm, twirling back around and admiring the dress again. “I love it so much.”

“im glad” Evie sang, walking back over to her desk and continuing on the dress she had paused working on when you walked “so is everything almost done?”

“yep” you chirped, spinning and grinning to yourself as the skirt and train flared around you. “it’s all done actually, all that’s left is for Harry to try on his suit and for us to pick a day and time”

“oh, the archway is finished?” Evie asked, looking over her shoulder at you. The archway that you and Harry would be married under would be installed on your new ship for your wedding, but you and Harry had gone through a billion designs before finding the perfect one, and it had just been finished building and all it needed were its white and red roses decorating the main top boards.

“yep, Harry and I approved the final work two nights ago, we’re basically ready to get married at any point now” you turned and walked back over to the changing screen, unzipping the dress and letting it fall down your arms. “again, just need to pick a day”

Evie clapped her hands in glee “oooh I so excited, honestly, I think im more excited for this than I am Mal and Ben's wedding” you laughed loudly at that.

“Really?” you tilted your head out of the screen, raising your brow at Evie “why?”

“I don’t know” Evie sighed “something about it being more…private? And it’s really just going to be personal friends and family with some extra people, right? it just feels a bit more intimate than their wedding which is going to be broadcasted across Auradon”

You hummed, yeah you were glad you didn’t have to deal with all that for your wedding, and your wedding, hopefully, also would have Carlos actually there, he had mentioned that the day of Mal and Bens wedding was the day of his very important-you can't miss it or you’ll fail the entire year-finals test for veterinary school.

Ben and Mal had tried to reschedule their wedding so Carlos could attend but unfortunately, everything was all set and both were unable to move the date. They promised they would have either Jay or Doug record everything for him so he could at least see the wedding “personally” instead of on the news, he would be there for the reception but he would be missing the ceremony.

“what month are you thinking for it?” Evie wondered aloud, the hum of her sewing machine overpowering her voice a bit.

“im thinking either late spring or early summer? So May or June. I don’t want it to be cold as all hell but I don’t want it to be so warm everyone's sweating?” you shrugged on your shirt and zipped up your boots, stepping back out into the main area of Evie’s office with your dress in your arms “honestly I dunno, I’ll talk to Harry tonight about it, we're having dinner at my place.”

Evie nodded at that and stood, taking your dress and hanging it back up on her rack. “awesome, welp, we’re all done here! So” she waved her hands at you as if casting a spell “why don’t you get back to…whatever you were doing or needed to do after you were done with this” you laughed and nodded, spinning on your heel and walking out of Evie's office, waving her goodbye as you stepped out into her kitchen.

“kay, bye Evie!”

“bye!”

A couple of hours later and you were in your kitchen stirring up the mashed potatoes as Harry checked on the tri-tip. “think it's ready yet?” Harry turned to you, nodding his head at the oven.

“just check it with the meat thermometer, if it's 145 degrees it's ready” Harry nodded, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the tri-tip, sticking the meat thermometer in, and grinning.

“145, we’re ready” you nodded and turned off the heat for the gravy, and uncovered the cheese biscuits.

“Okay, ill cut it up and you can take the veggies out of the microwave and pour ‘em in the bowl thing”

You grabbed a carving knife and a large fork, transferring the tri-tip to a cutting board and slicing it up. You worked in comfortable silence to finish your prep for dinner, the only heard was your knife against the meat and cutting board and the soft music playing on Harry’s Bluetooth.

“ready!” Harry called, getting out two plates and setting them on the counter, walking over to you and kissing your cheek “thank yeh for helping me make this darling”

“you’re welcome Harry” you hummed, setting down the knife and fork and walking around Harry to get to the plates “plate up! And let's eat!”

After filling your plates with tri-tip, mashed potatoes and gravy, cheese biscuits, and corn, your dinner was ready to eat. You and Harry sat down at the counter/kitchen window and clinked your sodas before digging in, Harry dancing in his seat a bit as he bit into his food.

“good?” Harry just hummed happily, and nodded, picking up his biscuit and bobbing his head as he bit into it. “good.” You laughed slightly and dug into your own food, humming as you bit into the tri-tip “good job on the tri-tip, it’s fucking bomb” Harry grinned and his ears turned red.

“Thank yeh, Uma taught me how ta season steak a bit after the barrier came down.” You laughed again and pulled out your phone to text Uma.

“well she's a damn good teacher, it’s fucking bomb” you sent a quick text to Uma telling her that she needed to teach harry more cooking stuff and she sent back a wink and a thumbs up.

“soooo” you and Harry spoke in unison, stopping to look at each other and laughing “okay okay” you waved your hands around “me first” Harry laughed a bit and nodded, leaning on his fist and watching you “so, twice today I've been asked when we’re getting married and-I realized I don’t remember if we talked about it, like, at all” Harry snorted.

“aye, Evie, Uma, an’ CJ asked meh the same thing, and yeah we’ve…never talked about when we want ta get married” you and Harry shared an ‘oh shit’ smile and you shook your head.

“well, when Evie asked me about it the first thought that came to my head was early summer or late spring, so like, May or June?” harry hummed and tapped the counter with his fingers.

“huh, May actually sounds good, um, weekend or weekday?” you lifted your feet and rested them on the sideways beams of Harry's stool.

“mmm, weekend? Mostly everyone will be free on the weekends” Harry nodded, and took another bite of mashed potatoes “maybe a Saturday?”

“sounds good” Harry mumbled through his food, swallowing it and taking out his phone, opening his calendar and scrolling up to May “um, so we have the 1st, 8th, 15th,22nd, and the 29th for Saturday’s”

You leaned closer to Harry and set your chin on his shoulder, examining the calendar on his phone “how bout the 22nd? That way it’s not too soon for anyone's schedule and not the direct end of the month” Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.

“that’s perfect, May 22nd it is, that’s when we'll get married” Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead “I can't wait for that day, my love”

“I can't wait either, I tried on my finished dress today and I just wanted to show you immediately, it's so dang pretty~!” you squealed, grinning as Harry chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“and I can't wait ta see you wearing it, I can’t wait ta see yeh walk down the aisle towards me and I can't wait ta call yeh meh wife” you forced down the burning in your nose and eyes and wrapped your arms around Harry, burying your face in his shoulder. “and I can't wait to call you my husband, and love you for the rest of my life” Harry hugged you back tightly, pulling you into his lap and pressing his cheek to the side of your head.

“I love you so much (y/n)”

“I love you too Harry”

“finally! I was wondering when you two were going to pick a date, I've kept my calendar open just in case you two decided to say ‘fuck it’ and get married on a whim.” Uma waved her hands about as she ranted, and you hid your smile behind your glass and took a sip of your (drink)

“Yeah, guess we can also finally print those invitations now too” Uma hummed at that and set her cup down, tilting her head at you.

“well, the guest list is all done, right? So it won't be that much to do” you shook your head and took another sip of your (drink).

“Nope, just the design, and then printing, and everything will be ready to go, Harry and I already called Ben about using his private docks for the wedding because that’s where our ship is and he’s all for it” Uma nodded, moving forward on the table and resting her chin in her palm.

“so, next month, you and Harry get married~” you giggled in excitement and danced in your seat a bit.

“yep, hard to believe it's been almost a year since we got engaged, I feel like it's only been a month” you wished wistfully, a dreamy smile on your face “when I arrived on the isle, I never thought that Harry and I would even meet, then all of a sudden I was a part of your crew.” You and Uma shared a reminiscent smile, it had happened oh so long ago, all the way back in 2017 after D2 had released, and now it was 2021 and you were engaged to Harry freaking Hook, Uma was one of your best friends, Gil the other best friend, and you could travel from your world to the descendant's world.

It was like a dream come true, and if it was just a dream?

You hoped you would never wake up.

-end of part 23-

I know these wedding planning parts are lowkey kinda boring but really im just trying to set up the wedding part(s) (if it seems like im dragging everything out pls tell me, I don’t want to bore yall)XD which is soon! It'll probably be posted on May 22nd and considering I've been posting like, once a month (im sorry lol), the next chapter may possibly be the wedding chapter but IDK~!!! But anyway thank you all for reading my dumb Harry Hook x reader that I started back in 2018 so it been like, more than two years since I posted the first part and for some reason yall liked it and asked for more??? Which like, my writing fucking sucked back then, so why the fuck did yall like it? XD

Anyway, just saying again that I will be making rewrites of part of your world and reprise, encore I’ll leave alone since I think it has okay writing, I might re-edit the first couple parts if I cringe enough at em but otherwise, encore will be left alone while the first two parts of the series will get rewritten. I will leave the original versions up but again, new versions coming after I finish encore.

Thank you! - R.Sparrow

(oh! also I designed the invitations~

pretty~ okay im done!)

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#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #encore #part of your world #reprise

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carters-coffee · 4 years

Text

Imagine Rose struggling to make eye contact with you

Word Count: 1,161

The heist was over. You couldn't believe the nine of you had actually pulled it off. You didn't think any of the others could believe it either, except maybe Debbie, who seemed to know it would work all along. 30 million dollars for each of you. You knew it would take a few weeks, maybe even months to let it sink in, to wrap your mind around just how much money that really was. But for now, you were sitting in the kitchen of Lou's flat with the others, bathing in the afterglow of success. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, but the champagne really did taste like stars tonight. Rose was next to you, leaning casually against the counter, smiling and laughing as she engaged in the conversation. From what you'd seen of her, it seemed out of character. She was always so jittery, so anxious. Whether it was the excitement or the booze or the sense of camaraderie that had developed between the group, you were happy to see her finally coming out of her shell.

After awhile the group dispersed. Tammy, Daphne, and Amita had decided to head home, while Lou and Debbie went upstairs. Constance had been content to stay in the kitchen, raiding Lou's fridge for munchies, and you weren't sure where Nine Ball went. You and Rose had ended up on the sofa, with her sitting with her legs tucked under her, and you at the opposite end, with one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out towards her. She had her elbow on the arm of the sofa, head resting on her hand as the two of you discussed your plans for the exorbitant amount of money you now owned. Obviously, Rose said, she would first be getting herself out of debt. Then she went on to explain her plans to purchase her own studio, a headquarters for her fashion line. She spoke of her hopes to get her brand back to its glory days, back when she wasn't a joke in the fashion industry. The fact that she had dressed Daphne for the Gala would certainly kick start it. She had already planned exactly what the studio would look like, and spared no detail as she told you her plan with remarkable clarity. She was painting a picture with words, and you could see it forming in your mind as she spoke. You found that when she was in her element, she was very adamant and expressive, and you enjoyed watching her eyes light up, making wild hand gestures as she moved around in her seat, tucking and untucking her legs.

She told you everything, from the floor plan to the wall decor to where her sewing machines and and fabrics would be located, and when she finally reached the end she trailed off with a sigh, appearing just a little out of breath.

"So yea. That's... that."

"Well it sounds absolutely wonderful, Rose. You'll have to let me come and see it sometime, when it's finished." You smiled.

"Oh of course." She said. She took a sip of her drink and her eyes flickered towards the back wall. She had been doing that a lot. All night, actually. Whether it was the floor or the wall or one of the odd decorative items that Lou possessed, Rose always found something else to focus on, seeming to not be able to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time, even when she was ranting about her studio. It was the only nervous habit she carried over from before the heist to this night.

"You can't seem to look at me very long, can you?" You said with a light laugh.

She seemed startled. " Oh! I'm sorry-"

"It's alright!"

"I don't mean to be rude, I just... " She trailed off again. You waited patiently for her to finish. Once again, her eyes flickered to you momentarily, and when she realized you weren't going to speak, she sighed.

"I just... don't want to stare." She mumbled.

"What? "

She seemed to be regretting saying anything, shrinking back into her nervous is self. "I, well," She huffed " I'm afraid if I look at you too long I won't be able to stop. " Her words came out in a rush, and it took you a moment to comprehend what she had said.

"Why?" You asked .

She shrank into the sofa a bit. "You're beautiful." She whispered.

Your lips parted in shock. You supposed you should've suspected, but for some reason her admission hit you like a truck. Maybe it was because , well, you thought she was beautiful too. And not in the admiration-of-a-friend kind of way. In the butterflies-when-you-look-at-her kind of way. You had always assumed she didn't feel the same. It's easy to let your own feelings keep you from seeing what’s right in front of you.

"I... Thank you." You finally said. She nodded, looking at the floor. You made to move towards her, but stopped when she visibly tensed. She was all pre-heist Rose now, and she reminded you of a bird. Beautiful, but nervous, flighty. One wrong move and she might fly away. So instead of just doing what you desperately longed to do, you asked first.

"May I kiss you?"

She looked up at you, surprise written on her face . This was clearly not where she expected this to go. Not seeming to trust herself to speak, she gave a little nod.

You moved towards her and leaned in. She tilted her head towards you. There was a pause as both of you hesitated, your lips barely grazing each other. She smelled like flowers and chocolate, tinged with a spark of champagne on her breath. Then you closed the gap, connecting your lips with hers. She was shy at first, but as the kiss lasted she grew more confident. She lifted a hand to caress your cheek, deepening the kiss as she swung her leg over to straddle you. You grabbed her hips and pulled her close, reveling in the feeling of your bodies pressed together.

"Ugh, get a room."

The two of you broke apart and looked to see Lou leaning against the railing of the stairs.

"I mean, honestly. I have a guest room if you two really need it." She said with a teasing smile.

"Thanks for ruining the moment, smart ass." You said. You smiled to show you weren't upset, but it was a little frustrating. You scanned Rose's face, trying to gouge what she was feeling. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked a bit embarrassed, but not the least bit regretful.

"Remember how I said I would visit after the studio is done?" You said.

"Yea."

"Maybe we should make it a little sooner."

She smiled, a real genuine smile with not an ounce of nerves. "I would like that very much."

****

For me. This was purely self indulgent. You’re welcome, me.

Inspired by this quote:

“I mustn’t look at you too much, or I won’t be able to take my eyes off you at all” - Franz Kafka

#rose weil #rose weil x reader #x reader #rose weil imagine #imagine #oceans 8 #oceans 8 imagine #helena bonham carter

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trishmishtree · 2 years

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An outfit made entirely by me

(pardon the hideous lighting. I'm tired and sleep deprived and it's making my hand tremor when holding my phone, so it took me forever to get a decent picture)

It occurred to me today that since I started making my own clothes earlier this year, I've made enough stuff by now that I've somehow accumulated an entirely handmade outfit that kind of works in combination as some kind of ren faire outfit.

The purple skirt was one of the first things I sewed back in March. It's a full circle skirt that I somehow did the math wrong on so it came out a little too big, so I pleated the extra and now I have adorable pleats in the back of it. This skirt I actually do wear regularly (like once a week in the office) and it's swishy and fun and I get loads of compliments on the fabric.

The pink corset was made last month. This was a thing I did for fun to see if I could make a corset by hand, which you may have caught the making of on my blog since I decided to document my descent into this madness. The result is this cute thing that is whimsical, not exactly historically accurate to any era, and definitely not something I plan to wear out in public. (And yes I am calling it a corset and not stays, even though it laces in both front and back, because it's hourglass shaped and doesn't have tabs at the bottom, and the construction methods are same as the ones I've seen used for corsets, minus the absence of a busk. No, I am not tight lacing, and no, I am not asphyxiating. It is literally just sitting on my body.) It does give me amazing back support though. I tried wearing it to work under my scrubs but I didn't like the feeling of extra bulk in my chest (since I was wearing a camisole, covered by the corset, covered by an undershirt to smooth out lines, then covered by my scrubs and jacket). In the future, I plan to make a single-layer underbust corset that closes with a zipper, which I can then wear to work in the hopes that it'll help with my back pain in the fifth straight hour of rounding in the hospital. I hope the new design will feel less bulky in the... everywhere, and eliminate the need for an extra undershirt layer under my scrubs.

The white peasant shirt is actually a dress that I made, also on a whim, about 2-3 weeks ago. The aim was to see if I could shirr fabric by hand (since no sewing machine and all that) since it's something I hadn't tried yet. Now that I've had the dress finished for a week, I think I'm going to add a lining layer to the bust and skirt, since the fabric is slightly sheerer than I would have liked, even with the gathers. As it is currently, it does make a nice shirt and petticoat for the purple skirt. (And when paired with a brightly colored sash around the waist and a large hat, it looks remarkably like the 1780s chemise à la reine that originally inspired its design.) My one gripe about this dress is that it doesn't have elastic in it, so the sleeves keep wanting to slip off my shoulders which is not the effect I was going for. This dress is also something that I do not plan to wear regularly e.g. to work, because the neckline is a little too low and it's just frilly and over the top enough that I wouldn't want to wear it in front of other humans.

More stuff (mostly dresses) is currently in the early planning stages, but they're more in the historical costuming/cosplay realm. More on that later.

#tricia sews (kind of)#fashion #sewing #hand sewing #cottagecore

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deathduty · 3 years

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Sew What || Deirdre & Irene

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Sew La Ti Do PARTIES: @threadofheart & @deathduty (special mentions to Angela Lansbury) SUMMARY: Deirdre strips. Irene does her job and nothing more. They both do what they know best.

Deirdre never considered herself to be a sentimental person. Yet, with her dress torn up the side, she found herself more willing to find the nearest tailor than to get a new one. She’d had the thing since moving to White Crest, and was certain at that moment that no other dress could make her look as good. More than that, though, she had things to do. Places to be. As much as she liked being nude, a torn up dress simply wasn’t acceptable. If she could just get the thing stitched up, however crude, she’d be on her way. “Hello?” The banshee called out, poking her head around the shop, trying to find someone to assist her. “I need–“ and at that moment, as someone emerged, Deirdre waved them down. “Do you work here? I need some help,” Deirdre pointed to the tear in her dress. “Just something to make it presentable enough. Can you do that?”

Irene sat at her computer, finishing up some paperwork for a few of her orders, when she heard the front door of her shop open. Quickly getting up, she walked out to greet whoever it was and spotted a new face. “Hello, yes, how can I help you?” she responded as she made her way to the front counter. It would be one thing to assume that this person was looking to get something fixed, but Irene had encountered a fair number of strange asks (like “Where’s the closest Pizza Hut?” and Irene had to bite her tongue to not inform them that she was not a map). At the question, Irene leaned forward and noticed the tear on the dress. Her brow furrowed as she studied it before she stood back up. “I can definitely get that properly sewn back together for you. Uh when would you need this by and, perchance, are you… um are you dropping off the dress right now?”

“Right now.” Deirdre said, twisting around to reach the zipper. “And I’ll wait; I can wait. I just need this done immediately.” Getting the dress half off, dangling from her bare shoulders, Deirdre considered that maybe stripping inside a store was not acceptable conduct in human society. It was fortunate then, that she didn’t care about human society. “Here,” she handed the dress off, standing about in her underwear. “Do you mind if I watch you work? I’d be bored otherwise.” Deirdre’s smile was wide, her best attempt at being friendly. The last tailor she had gone to, she murdered. Of course, because he was going to die anyway, but murdered all the same. This tailor was, however, much prettier than the last. And she wasn’t a murderer anymore. For now, anyway. “That won’t be a problem, will it?” She beamed, “I’ll pay double. Triple, even. And I am very pleasant to look at.”

“Wait!” Irene immediately held her hands up before the customer fully stripped right in her shop. She blushed slightly when half of it was already off as the seamstress walked to her desk and grabbed her long coat. “I-I don’t have any spare clothing in the shop right now other than this.” Her arm stretched out, offering it over as she averted her own gaze while her other hand reached for the dress. The moment her fingers found purchase with it, Irene noted that the material was quite nice and thankfully was something she had worked with before. “Oh, um, of course that’s no problem.” Normally, she would have politely informed her customers that she would need at least a day to complete something like this but this didn’t seem too difficult. And the prospect of being paid extra for this wasn’t unalluring… “Feel free to take a seat,” she finally decided with a small smile. Setting the dress down on her counter, Irene quickly began looking for the tear. “As much as that may be true, I’m afraid I can’t look back at you while I fix up your dress,” she indicated with a light tone as she began to pull out some tools from her cabinets. And she had been so caught up in this sudden exchange that only when Irene began to get to work did she realize that she was picking up some strange emotions from the woman. Not strange in the sense that it wasn’t reflective of the scenario but… dulled? Her brow knitted and she tried to shake it off. The last thing she needed was to mess up the dress in front of an audience.

“Oh no, I like being naked.” Deirdre tried to explain, but with a sigh, she took the coat offered and put it on. Humans could be such prudes. This human was fixing her dress though, and so she figured she might as well cover up. Though, at mention of taking a seat, despite knowing exactly what the tailor meant, she hoisted herself on the counter and took her seat there. “A tree branch got me, you know,” she said, offering an explanation for the tear. She smiled wide. A tree branch did not get her. It was, rather, the hand of a dying man, who’d managed to claw at her dress before she could leave. “I’m Deirdre,” she said, insisting on being a nuisance. “Why tailoring? It certainly can’t pay well, and it seems like such an unappreciated art…”

Irene managed a stiff smile in response to the woman’s comment about being naked, but the seamstress really did not want to explain having a naked person in her shop should anyone pass by her windows. A sigh of relief escaped her when the woman took the coat, though tension twisted her stomach once more when she noticed the guest hoist herself up onto her worktable. “Please be careful of the pins and other uh sharp objects on the counter,” she offered tersely as her hands continued to address the garment. “A tree branch… sounds dangerous. If you need any first aid, I have a kit in the back room I can grab.” Irene wasn’t certain she believed that especially as she picked up a dull feeling of smugness that seemed to emanate from the woman. Or perhaps she was really proud to be struck by a tree; Irene was not one to judge. “Lovely to meet you, Deirdre. I’m Irene,” her response flowed automatically from her lips. It was certainly taking a bit of effort for the seamstress to hold her tongue. “It’s actually a family business so I inherited the skills when I was old enough,” she briefly explained.

Deirdre watched the seamstress work, doubtlessly skilled in her work. Her great-grandmother had taught her to sew, still enraptured by the idea that a proper lady must know how to embroider, but she’d only ever enjoyed the feeling of sticking the needle through. “Oh no, I’m okay, you should've seen the tree though, Irene,” she smiled at her own joke, leaning into the woman’s work. It looked boring to her, but there was something about the ability to mend that always caught her attention; weapons never could learn to heal. “Like a duty?” She leaned back, “like some obligation to run this shop? Do you enjoy your work?” Deirdre watched the woman some more, graceful fingers finding what they wanted with ease. “I guess I’m in something of a family business myself…” she trailed off, looking out the shop window at the people passing by, living their own obligations. “But of all the things…” She turned back to Irene, “you’re not one of those people that wish to be a fashion designer, are you?” Not that there was anything wrong with that.

Having an audience while she worked normally wouldn’t distract her, but Irene found herself a little on edge with this woman, probably because she had initially wanted to stand around the shop naked. “Poor tree couldn’t put up much of a fight? What did it do to deserve such ire from you?” she replied with a small chuckle as she tried to imagine such a scene. Her mental image came up with something rather absurd and cartoonish, causing her to let out another quiet laugh. Irene paused, both to check on the progress of her sewing and also to consider the questions. “It was an obligation and now it’s what I know best. I enjoy it as much as one can enjoy their work I suppose. There are good days and bad ones.” Her fingers deftly finished up what she was able to hand-sew before she got up to move to her sewing machine. “Fashion designer? It’s something that’s crossed my mind a few times but it’s not a particular passion of mine. I do have a lot of respect for designers though. The pressure to constantly create something new or avant-garde that hasn’t already been created, I can’t begin to imagine it.”

“Oh, you know how it goes, it looked at me the wrong way…” Deirdre trailed off, grinning toothy and lopsided. She had started the process of trying to think of something else to say, something to make the woman uncomfortable, when she continued. Deirdre’s grin faltered, and from her position nosing into Irene’s work, she leaned back with a frown. She was not so deluded on ideas of passion that she didn’t understand practicality, but the way the woman described it sounded…sad. Or, at best, Deirdre would unknowingly insult her. “What you know best?” She repeated, hoping Irene would correct her. “What you know best and what you enjoy are two different things.” Deirdre stared at her, completely having intended to ruin her day and yet being struck with confusion instead. “Irene,” she began, “is there some other thing you imagined you’d be doing?” She sighed, she could understand duty and she could understand obligation. She could even understand knowing something too well to not make anything of it, but like this? Deirdre stared around the shop, nose wrinkled; was it really worth it? “It’s just an odd way to word your sentence—‘what I know best’ what I know best is murd—“ Deirdre froze. “Uh,” she turned to Irene, “Mur—Murder, She Wrote! The show! Love it. It’s what I know best, but, it’s not…uh, it’s not what I imagined I’d be watching. It doesn’t satisfy my life’s hunger.”

Irene expertly adjusted her machine, her movements second nature after years of working in this profession. As she ran the dress through the machine, she chuckled again. “I have noticed that some trees do make some devious faces.” The playful banter was easy enough to maintain as the seamstress worked, a trait she picked up early on when she had to mend her sisters’ clothes while they chattered away beside her. But then the sudden shift in tone surprised her, almost causing the woman to completely stop in her work. She swallowed hard, her lips pursing into a small smile despite her facing the machine and not her customer. “In the end, it’s all semantics,” she replied quietly before clearing her voice. There were many things she had tickled in pursuing: places she’d considered visiting or even living in, career paths she might have enjoyed, goals she’d like to achieve. “What I enjoy most is making sure my family is doing well and is safe and happy, and this happens to be the way I am able to achieve that.” The fabric slid through her fingers and past the thrumming needle of the machine. Her brow furrowed once more at the way this conversation unfolded from this curious woman. “I suppose that’s a thing about life, though, isn’t it? If Murder She Wrote doesn’t satisfy you, there are so many things out there that might do the trick.” With a satisfied sigh and a more genuine smile now, Irene finished up her repairs, snipped the loose thread from the dress, and held it up to examine. “This should be all good to go and ready for another battle with any tree that gives you the wrong impression.”

Why did it bother her? Long after Irene held the dress out, signaling the end of their little tête-à-tête, Deirdre stood and stared at her. She was dissatisfied; with Irene’s answer, her amiability and her lack of disdain at Deirdre’s general demeanor. It was spiteful. How dare the woman feign happiness in her face? It was tragic. How dare she answer honestly? And then it was pointless; why did it bother her at all? Irene was being practical, smart, safe. What could she possibly find a flaw in? Perhaps it was just that, the perceived perfectionism of the whole thing. Deirdre’s expression soured quickly. “Is that so?” Deirdre got her little inside glance at the woman, watching her words bounce right off. She had no hook, no control; friendly people disgusted her. A saccharine grin greeted Irene as Deirdre yanked the dress from her grip. “I suppose your family are all grateful. Where are they? Out back or…?” Perhaps it was the whimper of feeling blooming in her stomach; sadness, or something like it. “Aren’t you the hypocrite? Deluding yourself into thinking this satisfies you. At least Murder, She Wrote has Angela Lansbury.” From her boot, she drew out wrinkled hundred dollar bills, offering no explanation for either action. One hundred. Three hundred. Five hundred dollars, slapped down in front of Irene. “I’m taking your coat.” She announced with a huff, finding it to be the apology she deserved after Irene ruined her evening with her politeness. “And you!” she jabbed a finger at the tailor, throwing her dress over her shoulder. She stepped to leave, eager to free herself from Irene’s bullying. “If I peel back those layers of lies and professional, am I going to find a woman who fights or flees?”

Despite the muted emotions Irene picked up from Deirdre, she managed to pick up something akin to frustration. From the very beginning, this whole exchange presented to be a challenge. Why was Deidre frustrated when she had bulldozed Irene from the moment she arrived? Her gaze flickered momentarily at the questioning, each interrogatory a sharp, yet familiar, stab. Everything Deidre was saying was not incorrect. In fact, Irene was certain her sisters would likely agree. But, unlike Deidre, Irene made peace with her own reality, a reality she had resigned herself to for quite some time. “My family--my sisters are where they wish to be.” Was that so bad? That she prioritized their happiness over hers? It was her duty, always has been her duty, to take care of the family. As the money slammed onto the table, far more than was needed to pay, Irene made no move to collect it. “I suppose you and I will find out if that happens.” Each day in White Crest forced Irene to face that question: was she here fighting for something or was she actually fleeing? She lifted her head, swallowing hard and finding it harder to maintain a professional front. It was too early in the day for her regularly scheduled existential crisis. “Well, thanks for your patronage; I hope the dress is to your liking,” were the last words, auto-piloted by habit, she managed to say as she finally reached to collect the money dispensed upon her work surface.

Deirdre reveled in the sort of annoyances she could spur in others; she desired to control their reactions to her. If she forced hate, she would beat them all to the punch. But there was a special sort of person she could never crack: those that desired to be polite, kind, friendly. Those who refused to stoop to her level. Those, much like Irene. Her grievance all along might just have been envy. If only she had half a mind to be as optimistic. “I hope for your sake,” Deirdre said as she lingered at the door, “you find out sooner rather than later, the kind of person you are.” Without so much as a thank you, she was gone, and the store fell back into the silence that didn’t know her. One day, Irene would be dead, and her legacy was her own concern. It didn’t bother Deirdre one bit. Not at all.

#wickedswriting #c: irene #sew what #chatzy #threadofheart #i love irene so much #im so excited to see more of her and all of her facets #also sef is great

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