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goodomenshq · 8 months

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📚The Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter mega post 📚

As we enter the last hours of the Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter, here’s a recap of ALL the items you can get and how to get them. We’ll also answer some of the main questions you’ve had.

Get yours here!

TIERS

THE HUMAN TIER (£25 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel. All of the stretch goal embellishments (foiling, ribbon, foreword, afterword, extra pages, etc) cover every level (including early bird). Every backer also gets a bookmark. This also includes the foreword and afterword by Michael Sheen, David Tennant, and Jon Hamm.

THE SERPENT TIER (£40 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel, a dust jacket* featuring an alt cover by Frank Quitely and Loot Pack #1*, which is full of goodies. *Stretch goals have added to these items, full info below.

The alt cover dust jacket is now reversible, with the other side featuring this by Rachael Stott in b&w.

✔️Serpent gets the dust jacket for your graphic novel.

✖ It does not have a print of this image. The colour version is available as an add on.

Loot Pack #1 originally featured 2 x Colleen Doran prints (including a brand new piece), a postcard and bookmark. Fans have unlocked additional Colleen prints, some colouring pages, as well as *many* prints from other artists… You have unlocked prints from Rachael Stott (different to the alt cover image), Sarah Graley, David Aja, Mark Buckingham, Tanya Roberts, Paul Kidby, Alice Oseman and Anna Morozova, as well as the Frank Quitely cover as a print.

We’ve been asked a lot about Alice Oseman's prints, so to clarify: if you back the Serpent Tier or above, you will get Alice's print featuring Aziraphale, as well as the newly commissioned Crowley to complete the pair.

THE HELLHOUND TIER (£120 GBP) includes the prior tiers + Loot Pack #2, ft. Crowley and Aziraphale enamel pins, stickers, and a pack of the Good Omens trading cards. These will be playable. Tier backers can also get rare cards in their order at random.

THE WITCHFINDER TIER (£200 GBP) has all of this, plus an exquisite map by Julien Labit. Dimensions will be approximately 594 x 841 mm.

THE DEMON TIER (£320 GBP) is a creative punch from head to toe, with five additional enamel pins (including Dog), some snazzy socks, and two creator themed notebooks, one for your inner Pratchett, the other for your inner Gaiman.

THE HORSEMEN TIER (£500 GBP) is the Demon Tier + A3 Giclee print from the graphic novel, signed by Colleen Doran, plus the exclusive Beelzebub enamel pin, and Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett collector's enamel pin set.

THE OBSIDIAN TIER (£3k) builds on the Horsemen Tier with copies of the new, limited Obsidian editions (GO illustrated edition, graphic novel & William the Antichrist), signed by Neil Gaiman & artists, and a one-of-a-kind trading card by Colleen Doran.

For booksellers, we have two options: The Small Bookshop Tier (10 copies) and The Bookshop Tier (20 copies), both of which offer a 50% trade discount. There are also add ons of 10 and 20 copies for shops looking to order more.

ADD ONS

The campaign itself ends at 11.59pm UK time on 31 August, so there’s still time to get your pledges in. Let’s move onto the add ons via Kickstarter...

How do you add more to your pledge? This link on Kickstarter should help. You effectively re-select the tier you’ve chosen, and then it will take you to the add on section. This works even if your tier is sold out, or was time sensitive (Nightingale).

Unlike tiers, you are not limited to one choice with add ons. You can get additional copies of the graphic novel, mugs, slipcases, the graphic novel oversized edition, and more. Rachael Stott's Eternal Encounter print is available also.

A.Z. FELL & CO ADD ONS. Includes: Bookmark, mug, socks, tote bag. The bookmark is different / higher end than those included with every copy of the graphic novel.

TRADING CARDS. You can get a trading card booster pack. These will have at least six cards. The Hellhound Tier is where to get the larger, playable base pack. Base packs will be available down the road via the new merch store, but cheapest via the Kickstarter.

ENAMEL PIN ADD ONS We have two pairs of Aziraphale and Crowley pins (£10 per set). We also have mystery packs of three available (£12). You can see the full pin information and designs so far at http://goodomenshq.com.

While pins #005 onwards will be part of the mystery packs, they may pop up at events or in flash sales of specific items. We will give fans as much notice as possible when these exciting events will happen.

BOOKSHOP ADD ONS. Bookshops who have backed either of the retail tiers will be able to add packs of 10 or 20 additional books onto their pledge. These tiers must be delivered to a bookshop address. These are also at 50% trade discount.

OBSIDIAN ADD ONS. While the Obsidian Tier collects all three books, you can add the Obsidian Edition of the Good Omens illustrated edition, the Good Omens graphic novel, or William the Antichrist - signed by Neil - to pledges at any level.

Add ons are available for every tier level. Add ons will also be available after the Kickstarter, however will be cheapest via the campaign. We know a lot of people have been asking, so if 31 August is too short notice, worry not!

FAQ

Q: Will the graphic novel be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. It will be available via PledgeManager, and subsequently on goodomenshq.com when that becomes the wider merch store.

Q: Will tiers be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Some will be available for an additional time on PledgeManager to allow those who couldn’t access the Kickstarter for a variety of reasons. This will go live at some point after the project finishes.

Q: Will the add ons be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Though Kickstarter will be the cheapest way to get the add ons, these will be made more widely available at a slight price increase after the campaign ends.

Q: I couldn’t back the Kickstarter due to payment issues. Can I use Paypal / other methods? A: We believe PledgeManager will be able to integrate the wider payment methods, including Paypal, for those who couldn’t back with a card. This is TBC. Longer term, this will be an option on goodomenshq.com when it opens as the official merch store.

Q: Shipping is charged after. Why do we not have the final numbers yet? A: We’ve been working across the campaign to bring estimates down further; the page will have new numbers as we have them pre-31 Aug, however we will be working over the coming months to get the best price for backers worldwide once the weights are locked in. Our goal is to get the best value for supporters and not overcharge by locking in this early.

Q: If it will all be available later, what difference is there in backing the Kickstarter? A: All backers get an individual discount code for the Good Omens HQ merch store when it opens in the future, so you can get money off further items. We’ve got some fun things that we’re planning to do via backer updates post-campaign too. More on that… later. You’ll still get plenty of ineffable joy either way though!

Q: Is there anywhere I can sign up for updates? A: Yes! Good Omens HQ will have a mailing list. You can sign up here.

Get yours here!

#good omens #good omens graphic novel #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #colleen doran #rachael stott #crowley #aziraphale #michael sheen #david tennant #alice oseman #jon hamm

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dustytufts · 8 months

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Leafkit and Squirrelkit make "travelling herbs" for Sandstorm before she goes for a walk. They're delicious, she assures the kits, through tears in her eyes. They run away proudly, she rushes out of camp for the nearest creek to wash her mouth in. Nasty, she mouths, but she'll eat whatever they make. The kits' smiles make it worth a wet face.

~~~

Had a ton of fun with this one but don't wanna bog down the main post. A lot of unrelated-to-wc process talk below the cut!

So this was a bit of experimentation with a new brush which turned into exploration into gradient maps.

The original idea was simply to modify csp's mechanical pencil brush into something that felt a bit more natural. It started with simply turning on a bit of tilt-controlled thickness and setting my colour to about 80% grey, rather than black. It didn't quite feel right, but setting the brush to blend with the subcolour on each tip, setting the subcolour to the 80% grey and the main colour to the canvas' colour, then setting the brush's blend mode to darken gave me a brush that felt like it had FAR finer line control.

The lines themselves look like this (on a more saturated bg to show how the values layer/fade in and out with pressure and tilt):

(edit to pic: completely unnoticeable when on the intended base colour*)

This is where the gradient maps come in. The way I usually change my linearts' colours is to make a new layer, mask over it, and manually paint. It gives a lot of control to your end result, but it's time consuming and often takes many adjustments to make it feel like it has enough contrast to make the drawing actually *readable.* If I wanted to add a gradient map to the lineart, it would be unable to read the transparency and would pick from the single value that the lineart is (usually black), then the transparency would take over. This gives me a dull result.

With the "transparency" being an actual colour, that gives it an actual value for the gradient map to read. So instead of having your lines fade from black to the colour behind it (often desaturating as it goes), it'll go from something like dark blue -> reddish-grey -> orange -> yellow. It adds a little something i think, and while I absolutely don't have this down pat, it could be something interesting to explore!

I also wanted to go further with this piece, namely painting it rather than a shading layer set on overlay with the aforementioned gradient maps all over it but ... it wasnt happening. The art skills clocked out for the day. That said, I definitely want to explore how this would look if I coloured everything for realsies rather than doing the fallback method. Could be where they really shine!

#warriors #warrior cats #squirrelflight #leafpool #sandstorm wc #btw. the post did get bogged. i talked a lot but damn it was fun to doodle around with !! give it a shot if u want!#2023 art

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 4 months

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Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house.

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth.

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand.

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease.

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots.

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet.

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then.

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses.

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom.

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

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txttletale · 1 year

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h… how is any of that racist

assuming that you mean my posts about the 5e monster manual entry for orcs and how insanely racist it is--by happy coincidence i have a bunch of sources about this strewn haphazardly across my browser so i'm happy to answer this.

so we will start with this. the words 'tribe' and 'chief' are deeply, deeply racialised. they have been used throughout colonial (and well into modern and present-day!) history to describe groups of indigenous peoples across the world—with implications of 'primitive' people and societies within the Western myth of linear societal progress. europeans have nations and kings--africans and native americans have tribes and chiefs. the 'tribe' is not a neutral concept--it is a concept that was constructed by europeans in positions of global military domination over a century to justify a narrative about the linear progress of civilization to justify domination [1][2]. of course, it's not just the use of the words 'tribe' or 'chief' but their deployment here in the context of what is obviously supposed to be a 'primitive' method of of government--the 'orcish tribe' is inherently violence, a 'savage' society entirely built on "bloodlust" and "fear"

regis stella puts it much better than i could in this account of an early 20th-century travel memoir in Imagining the Other: The Representation of the Papua New Guinean Subject

while we're on this point i figure i'll add all the other language around 'savagery', 'inherent bloodlust' and so on in the monster manual here to further illustrate my point: it's all quite rote and repeats itself a lot.

now, wait, waiiiit, wait a second. wait a moment. hold up what was that last thing

oh thats not good. having to explain why this is racist feels a little like having to explain why its bad to hit people with hammers but i'll do it anyway: the comparison of real-life 'tribes' of people to insects, vermin, and pestilences is a very real element of genocidal rhetoric--from the holocaust [3] to the rwandan genocide [4]. what is the implied correct societal responose to a tribe that is 'like a plague?'

finally, this is the part that made me say "holy fucking shit this is in the 5th edition monster manual?" because it is pure undiluted gygaxian eugenics shit. first of all, the narrative of the ever-swelling horde, the indigenous or Asian people as an undiffernetiated mass of amorphous Other, is an old one and one that's been used to devalue the lives of people of colour and justify violence against 'the horde'. but the part that's absolutely jaw-dropping is the use of the tropes of reproductive racism--the narrative of Black and indigenous hyperfecundity is also an established racist trope, one which was instrumental in the forced sterilisation of Black and Native women in the USA [5] and now manifests itself in the "great replacement" demographic anxieties of modern racism [6] -- think of White Genocide conspiracy theories and the 14 Words. and of course that is to say nothing of the fact that is made very clear and reiterated (and mechanicised in the form of the Half-Orc player race!) that WotC wants to be very clear about how much orcs "readily crossbreed with other races". this is miscegenation anxiety, plain and simple--somethign else stella talks about.

so yeah! hopefully nobody will ever ask me this fucking question again! (this is just across two fucking pages of the monster manual by the way don’t get me started on the shit that’s in the other books! god forbid i even think about campaign modules!!)

#ask #ttrpg #dnd #orc discourse

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ao3commentoftheday · 3 months

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create a personalized ao3 site skin without knowing CSS

If you want to customize AO3's user interface but you don't know CSS, you can still do it by using the Wizard

Select Dashboard from the dropdown menu

Select the link for Skins from your Dashboard. If you're on mobile, it will be just below the header bar. If you're on desktop, it will be in the left-hand sidebar.

Tap on the button labelled Create Site Skin (at the top right of the page)

Tap on the button labelled Use Wizard (at the top of the page)

Give your site skin a name. The name needs to be unique or else you can't save it. No one but you will see it.

The Wizard has many options, and you can use as many or as few of them as you like.

Fonts - change the font used by the Archive. If you want Arial, type Arial into that textbox. If you want Century Gothic, type in "Century Gothic". The reason why you need quotes around Century Gothic is because it's a two-word name. The device you're using needs to have the font installed, otherwise it won't work, but you can list as many fonts as you like, separating them with a comma. If the first font isn't installed, it'll try the second, then the third and so on.

Percent of browser font size: To enlarge the font, enter a number higher than 100. To decrease the font size, enter a number lower than 100.

Work margin width: This sets how wide the margins are for a fic (decreasing or increasing the white space on either side of the text). Use number between 1 and 100 for what percentage of the page you want the margin to take up.

Vertical gap between paragraphs: The default is 1.1286em, so if you want more white space between paragraphs then enter a larger number like 2em. For a smaller space, enter a smaller number like 0.5em.

Background color: sets the background for the entire site. Use a hex colour code, which you can find by using a colour picking tool like this one. Make sure you include the # at the start of the hex colour, otherwise it won't change!

Text colour: changes the colour of all text that isn't a link

Header colour: changes the red header and footers to another colour of your choice

Accent colour: changes the light grey colour of forms etc. to another colour of your choosing.

After making whatever changes you want:

Hit the Submit button to save your site skin. This will take you to a new page where you can see the changes you've made in a list.

On that page, hit the Use button to start using the skin.

Go back to your Skins page any time to edit your skin or create a new one.

You can add CSS codes to this kind of skin as well. Just save it first and then edit to apply the CSS.

#ao3 #how to ao3 #site skins #long post

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morallyinept · 4 months

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Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Frankie is in his early 40's, around 42/43, Jude is in her late 30's, around 37/38. Jude has mid-length hair - other than that, I've tried to keep Jude as a blank canvas in terms of ethnicity/eye & hair colour. This is so you can imagine yourself as Jude, if you'd like to. If I miss anything, please kindly let me know. Images are for aesthetic purposes only, no direct reference to Jude.

Word Count: 120K - give or take... it's novel length. 👀

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Survival/mentions & descriptions of a plane crash/death/drowning/starvation/dehydration/malnourishment/injury/sickness & illness/depression/PTSD/drug use/drug addiction/mentions of loss/sorrow/angst/brief mention of miscarriage/bleeding/blood loss/cheating spouse - I promise it's not all doom & gloom.

EXPLICIT: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral both M & F receiving/hand job/masturbation - all the good stuff.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: This is a story I wrote a long time ago, and have re-edited for Frankie. It's a story I have poured a lot of love into, and probably one of my favourite things I've ever written. I really hope you enjoy Frankie & Jude's story. 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapters including smut - 🌶️ Trigger Warnings will be highlighted red, if any.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11 🌶️

CHAPTER 12 (Trigger Warning) 🌶️

CHAPTER 13 🌶️

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15 🌶️

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

EXTRAS:

Playlist

The Island

Moodboard by the amazing @sawymredfox 🖤

Frankie & Jude as SIM's characters by the wonderful @fckyeapedrothots99 🖤

Adrift Clip by the awesome @survivingandenduring 🖤

TAGGING ISSUE <- Read if you want to be tagged.

This will probably be around 30-40 chapters or so, maybe less depending how much I bulk them out. I'll add chapters as I upload. New chapters will be added on a Sunday starting mid January 2024 - Please ensure you're following me and switch on notifications so you don't miss out on this story.

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #adrift with you series #jett's writing

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neverinadream · 5 months

Text

Garden Of Eden (Part One)

Next Part

Summary: Some things were not meant to be touched and to Quinn Y/N was meant to be untouchable.

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader // Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Mountain Peaks - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, mild smut in parts of this fic, uses of the she/her pronoun, best friend's older brother!quinn, suggestive language...i guess, soft dom!quinn, pet names (baby, cutie...), grinding/dry humping, nipple play, not edited

Notes: this is just a little opening number, setting the stage for what is or isn't about to come, and yes, this is a very stereotypical trope but i personally love a best friend's older brother trope. anyway, i promise the next part will be longer and have more a flow to it. this is my first time writing for quinn or any nhl player but feedback would be appreciated

“Okay, but would you rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes?” The brunette's dishevelled hair tickles Y/N's face, the pair of them sharing the same pillow, squished together in the centre of her bed, as he tucks his head into the crook of her neck. He ignores her question, sneaking a kiss to her warm skin, the left side of his mouth smirking against her when her breath catches. “Q,” she squirms, nudging his side, “come on.”

He chuckles, rolling his head back onto his half of the pillow. “I don't know,” he shrugs, resting his arm under his head, “how big are they?”

“How big?”

“The dicks,” he replies, looking away from the ceiling to look at her, “how big are the dicks?”

She takes a second to mull it over, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Let's say they're average size.” Quinn stays quiet. “Like…five inches,” Y/N elaborates, measuring the size with her hands, “something like this.” She peers at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don't know what five inches looks like?”

“I know-” He cuts himself off with a sigh, eyes closing shut as it passes his lips. “I guess I'll go with dicks for toes - much easier to hide.”

Y/N rolls onto her side, curling her arms around his bicep. He hums at this and reaches out for her t-shirt, scrunching the dark material between his fingers. “Don't wanna caress someone's face with your dick fingers?” She tucks her head, forehead pressed against the curve of his shoulder. “Doesn't that sound romantic?” His body vibrates as he chuckles. “Just flaccid tips on cheeks.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Quinn grimaces, having to disagree with her.

“Takes toe sucking to a whole new level.”

“What?!” He laughs out of shock. “You did not just say that!”

She lifts her head, meeting his gaze, her lips parted with a large, toothy grin. “C'mon, just think about it-”

“I don't want to think about it,” he still laughs, shaking his head. His cheeks were flushed with a light sprinkle of a pink blush, that only darkens as his stomach growls. “What are they doing? Buying the whole store?” He murmurs to himself, reaching for his phone, checking to see how long it had been since his brothers had left. “How much longer do you think they'll be?”

“Why?” She let go of his arm, missing the way his mouth dropped into a frown as she pulled away from him. One leg swings over his hips, her knees resting on either side, sinking into the mattress as she straddles him. “Are you wasting away?” She teases, poking his stomach. “Going to suddenly die on me because Lukey eats like he's eating for two?"

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Quinn shoots up, his arms wrapping around her waist, his sudden actions making her squeak. He lines his face with hers, tired eyes snapping down to her mouth and then back up at her eyes. They flutter shut, hiding their colour from him, as he tentatively captures a kiss on the corner of her soft mouth.

“I guess I shouldn't complain too much,” he mumbles, moulding his hand to her hip. The other coming to rest on the side of her face, his thumb brushing softly against her warm skin. “Not if it means I get you to myself,” he adds, kissing the opposite corner of her mouth, his lips lingering until he forces himself to break away, “even if it's just for ten minutes."

She circles her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I think it's been more than ten minutes,” she whispers, suddenly scared to talk so loud. The right side of his mouth twitches, the rest of his mouth mirroring until his lips are stretched into a thin smile. “Your hands are cold,” she comments, tilting her face into the coldness of his palm.

“Then it's a good thing I've got you to warm them up.”

His mouth misses her lips, kissing her chin and heading south. His lips were soft, kissing down the column of her neck in a way that was torturous for the both of them. She whimpers as his tongue licks over her pulse point, and it takes every bit of strength in him not to leave a mark. “Should feel wrong to do this,” he mumbles, hot breath fanning her ear as he staggers kisses back up her neck, “but it doesn't. Ever.”

Y/N sighs, tipping her head back to expose more of her neck to him. He takes it as an opportunity to touch every inch of her with his lips. “Think I should be thanking Luke for clearing the fridge out,” she says, goosebumps rising on her skin as Quinn's beard scratches against her skin.

“Not like this, I hope.”

“Ew!” She gives his shoulder a soft push, her expression scrunching up with disgust. “Luke's like a little brother!”

He pulls back. “No brotherly love for me then?”

“Clearly not,” she deadpans.

“Wanna know what you are to me?”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, showing him half a frown. “Hopefully not like a little sister.” He smiles at her joke, subtly shaking his head.

“You're the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden.” He takes a deep breath. “You are the thing I want most but know I can't have.”

“It wasn't an apple.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it again, his brows knitted. “What?”

“You called it an apple,” she replies, elaborating on her previous statement, “but the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve took wasn't an apple.” Full of weird and often at times useless facts, she plucks this one from the deepest part of her mind. “It was just that, a piece of fruit."

"Well, it could've been an apple, an orange or even a strawberry," he states, pressing their foreheads together, "the sentiment still stands." His thumb brushes gently down the bridge of her nose, making her eyes flutter shut. "It's getting harder for me to stop every time we do this," he admits, the tips of noses nudging against each other as he hovers his lips above hers, "and you know I don't want to stop this. I want to do more than just kiss you."

Secret kisses when no one was looking, hands held in secret under blankets during movie nights, stolen moments in empty rooms, and looks that lingered for two seconds too long. That was the extent of Y/N and Quinn's ‘relationship.’

"I want all of you, Y/N.”

"You know all this fruit talk is wasting time, right?" Quinn could feel her bottom lip moving against his mouth as she spoke, drawing his gaze to it. "Time that we could be using to do something else.”

“You started it,” he smiles, closing the gap between them.

"That's a lie," she speaks against his mouth, "Pretty sure you said I was your forbidden apple." The smallest whimper escapes her mouth and is caught by his as he presses his hand firmly against the base of her skull, holding her in place. "It was kinda poetic," Y/N adds, Quinn sighing as she pulls away.

“You saying I should retire and become a poet?”

"You should definitely not do that," she's quick to answer, pecking the corner of his mouth, "I said it was kinda poetic, with a big emphasis on kinda.”

He gasps, holding his hand against his chest. “How can someone so angelic say such cruel words?"

“You're so stupid,” she giggles, joining their mouths together again.

He circles an arm around her waist and presses his body against hers, hoping she might feel the hammering of his heart as it beats against his chest. That's what she did to him. She made his heart beat faster than he thought should be possible. But maybe being in love was about doing the impossible.

"Quinn," Y/N breathes out his name, tipping her head back and tugging on his hair, the dark stands curling around her fingers, as his mouth slips down to her neck. "No marks, remember?" Her best friend was still an important part of this messy equation. "Quinn?”

"I hear you, baby," he replies against her skin, "no marks." One hand leaves the small of her back and teases the hem of her t-shirt. "But think how pretty you would look," she could feel his smirk pressing into her neck, "all marked up as mine.”

“Tempting,” his words shoot straight down to her core, flooding it with arousal, “but Jack-”

He cuts her off with a sigh. "I know," he mumbles, lifting his head, "Jack can't know.”

He touches his thumb to her bottom lip, pressing and dragging the calloused pad over it. The soft whimper that escapes turns the corners of his lips. "That sound." He does it again, his breath ragged as she whimpers for him. "Like heaven itself. And it's all mine, right?" There's a shift in his voice to something darker. It has her clamping her thighs tighter on either side of his hips. His hand slides along your jaw and tips her head. "You're only going to make that sound for me, yes?"

She nods her head. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He picks up on the moan she tries to force down but lets the curiosity die. There would be other chances to tease her.

"You know this is my shirt, right?" He changes the subject, seeking a temporary moment of calmness. Flipping their positions, he presses one hand into the mattress beside her, keeping himself hovered above. The material is soft, pinched between his fingers; he runs his thumb over a small but unnoticeable hole. "I let Jack borrow it the last time we were all together," he adds, snapping his eyes up to hers, a smile dragging out on his lips, "but I guess I know why I never got it back.”

“I could give it back to you.” He lifts his eyebrows. “But only if you ask nicely.”

He chuckles, the sound resonating low inside his chest. “Or I could just take it back,” he sits back on his knees, “take it off you.”

She bites her lip, heat trickling down her body. “Go on then,” she encourages, “take it off.”

In a matter of seconds, the t-shirt is removed and tossed across the room. A hard blush spreads across Quinn's cheeks and down his neck, turning every bit of him red, as his eyes land on her naked breasts. They were better than he could have ever imagined. Beautiful and perfect. He tries to speak, to say something about them, but all he can muster up is a grunt strangled in the back of his throat. It was like seeing her in a two-piece swimsuit for the first time all over again, just without the awkward and uncomfortable erection.

“Quinn?”

“Quiet, baby,” he mumbles, raking his eyes down her body, “just wanna look at you for a sec.”

Y/N had expected to feel uncomfortable letting him experience her like this for the first time, but instead, she felt bold and confident. It empowered her the way he would race his eyes up and down her figure, his gaze lingering on her nipples as they hardened. Propping up onto her elbows, she arches her back and sticks her chest out, letting him drink every inch of her in.

"Tell me you see how beautiful you are?" He asks, his voice growing soft.

"I feel beautiful when you look at me like that," she answers, staring back at the warm glow in his eyes.

"Good." She collapses back as he moves above her, his hands reaching for her face, his body dipping to kiss her. He drifts from her lips before she can kiss him back. "I never want you to feel anything but beautiful," he murmurs, coming back for a kiss and then another, only stopping when he needs to take a breath.

"Quinn?" He hums, taking your wrist against his lips. "Aren't you going to touch me?”

"Do you want me to touch you?"

She smiles. “Is the sky blue?”

He kisses her, nipping at her mouth as he pulls away. “Depends on the time of day,” he replies, grinning as she rolls her eyes. He shifts until one leg is resting between her thighs, causing her to gasp as he leans forward, pressing his thigh against the front of her shorts. The sound shoots straight to his cock. “I want a yes this time,” he lines his face up with hers, “do you want me to touch you?”

She runs her fingers delicately over his cheeks, raking her fingers through his hair as they continue to travel. “Yes, Quinn,” she draws his mouth closer to hers, “I want you to touch me.”

Quinn doesn't need to be asked twice, taking her mouth in a heated, messy kiss. He'd kissed her more times than he could count on both hands and yet he still got lost in the kiss like it was the first time. Thrusting his tongue, he owns her mouth, controlling her. He wanted this, and from the way she pulled him in closer, he knew she wanted this too.

She rocks her hips against his thigh, soft whimpers crawling up her throat, captured quickly by his mouth. Fresh arousal dampens her panties as he thrusts against her, the feeling of his hardened length pulsing against her injects her with a primal need. “Touch me,” she breathes out, nipping at his bottom lip. The metallic tang of blood burns on his tongue as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Q, please!"

He tips her head back, taking advantage of the exposed skin, burning a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. More whimpers escape her mouth as his tongue drags over her collarbone, driven mad to taste every bit of her.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he groans, cupping her breasts in his calloused hands. His cock twitches inside his shorts as he squeezes them into each other, mouthing something her ears don't catch before his mouth dipped low. The warmth of his breath fans over her skin, the wetness of his tongue coating it as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. “Like that, cutie?” He mumbles around her.

She nods, panting her answer as she arches her back, trying to push more into his mouth. He moves his mouth to the other, repeating his actions, sucking her nipple into his mouth. He smiles around the sensitive nub when she moans his name. It was music to his ear, something he'd remember when they inevitably separated at the end of the week.

Her fingers carve through his hair, holding tightly onto him as her hips buck, finding friction against his thigh. She throws her head back into the softness of the pillow, new heat flooding between her thighs, her mouth opening on a silent cry. He had barely done anything and she was already a withering mess.

“I need you,” Quinn breaks away, smoothing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

“Then have me,” Y/N replies, circling her arms around his back.

He surprises her, shaking his head. “Not like this.”

She searches his gaze. “And why not?”

“Because if we do this, I want to be able to take my time with you,” he says, his nose nuzzling into her face as he leaves a chaste kiss against her cheek, “not be forced to rush through it.”

Call it cheesy, but he wanted to create the perfect memory of this moment. He had a primal need to appreciate her, to take his time to run his hands over her every curve, to touch and kiss every inch of her body. To consume and claim her as his.

“Trust me?” The sound of gravel crunching under heavy wheels is heard over his voice, Y/N watching him as he leaves the bed. He picks up her t-shirt and then sits on the edge. “Give me a chance to do this properly,” he leans in and kisses her shoulder, her neck and then her cheek, “without the fear of Jack or Luke catching us.”

"Like a date or something?" Y/N asks, fixing her top. Jack and Luke's muffled voices inject some life into the previously quiet lake house. "Gonna be hard to hide something like that from Jack."

Heavy footsteps quickly approaching Y/N's door has Quinn feeling nervous. "We'll have to tell him eventually," he rushes to speak, sneaking one last kiss. She whines as he pulls away. "I'll think of something," he whispers, looking over his shoulder, the bedroom door opening to reveal Jack.

"You better go downstairs before Luke gets hungry again." Jack enters the room, flopping down onto the foot of his best friend's bed. "I'm not joking," he lifts his head to look at Quinn, "he was already talking about what he's having for lunch on the way back here. What are you doing in here anyway?" He glances at Y/N for an answer.

"We were discussing if we'd rather have dicks for fingers or dicks for toes," she omits half of the truth, bouncing her eyes between the two brothers.

NHL Taglist: @lovelynikol16 @chilwellspulisic

"Toes," Jack answers, with no second thought about it, "easier to hide."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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smellrain · 1 month

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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐝 - 𝐣𝐡𝟖𝟔

in which: yn is a famous fashion influencer that always adds a small red detail to her outfits. After a small leak the audience slowly starts to figure out why.

tags: smau, fluff, slight crack (masterlist)

notes: part 2 may or may not be in the works right now (edit: you can find it here! and the final part here!) I’m very new here so I’m a bit anxious about this :’) Enjoy!!

Twitter:

Instagram:

therealyn posted!

liked by trevorzegras, colecaulfield and others

therealyn kisses for everyone <3

user125: yn??? softlaunching???? user98: okay but can we talk about the note ⤷ user76: crying when is it my turn ⤷ user29: they seem so cute <3 user52: so does this mean you are taken? ynfriend: been thirdwheeling them since I met yn :/ ⤷ therealyn: :( we get you free fries tho liked by ynfriend user37: can someone tell me why she always adds sth red in her grwms? ⤷ user78: we actually don’t know! but waaay back it used to be yellow ⤷ user59: it's prob just her favorite colour or sth user62: she really is the prettiest girl in the world user140: okay I see way too many hockey players in the likes ⤷ user13: frrr it has to be a hockey player (my bet is cole) ⤷ user104: but no one commented 🤨

Twitter:

notes: sorry this is so short (part 2 is definitely longer) but come talk to me about it :)

#jack hughes #nhl #njd #nj devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #smau #ame writes #something red

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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You Kissed the Clown? Part 1

(Notes: Hello new friends! I have found myself fallen under the spell of the flashy fool himself and felt compelled to create something for him.)

(EDIT: This was my first ever fic on Tumblr. It was only ever meant to be a one-shot and it turned into a 15 part series 🤦‍♀️. I have so appreciated each and every one of you liking, commenting and inboxing me about this series and others. Thank you so so much 🥹)

(S1:E2 OPLA timeline)

Upon waking, you found yourself in an unfamiliar environment. Stuffed into a small crate with your three travelling companions, your dark haired friend referred to as a “crew”, your senses were still groggy from the crimson powder exploded above your small rigging.

After your “Captain”, Luffy, disclosed to the group he had consumed the map to the grand line to “keep it in a safe place”, the crate opened to reveal a darkened space. Applause rang throughout the area and your eyes were drawn to a spotlight being placed on a man dressed as a white lion. Several circus-type performers littered the room and directed the large crowd to respond with prompts written on large white panels held by several members. You noticed the features of the crowd were bearing terrified expressions, crying streaks littering their cheeks and some crusted over wounds adorning their faces and bodies.

Through the small opening of the red and white tent, a displeased figure appeared out of the shadows. You were immediately mesmerised by the figure, brightly coloured facial paint adorning his cartoonish features, a large brim hat with blue tassels hung over the folded edge and a collection of mismatched stripes, spots, fur and feather upon his physique. He had a dangerous air around him, full of malice, ill-temperament and a small amount of desperation amongst his features.

The blue haired man immediately berated his companions, yelling at them for the wrong timing, the queue being off, the lighting contrasting over a lion-like man instead of his own features. You looked to your green-haired swordsman companion, making brief eye contact with him and quirking up your brow in question. He shook his head at you and nodded back to bring your attention to the scene playing before you.

You had no idea how you were among this ragtag trio of misfits, especially as piracy was never an occupation you fancied for yourself. You and those within your family line were skilled jewellers; antiquity restoration, appraisal and fine gold and silver smithery was your trade. You and your father were requested to appear before Captain Morgan and add a new gem encrusted embellishment to his recently acquired new head for his Axe-Hand.

You witnessed the fight that was brought out with Helmeppo and several other marines at the skilled hands of Roronoa Zoro. At that point, your father decided he was no longer going to be working with Captain Morgan; no payment was enough to continue working for a man that allowed his child to bully those lesser than him. You were given a choice then to find your own way in the world and bring attention to your own skilled crafts or to sail home with your father to return to work in the shop as a finery smith. Opting for the former of the two, you bid farewell to your father and found yourself upon the small rigging with three companions of whom you had grown fond of.

Bringing you away from your thoughts and tuning back into the conversation, your gaze fell to your orange-haired friend, Nami, as she attempted to bribe the blue-haired clown with a new crew member with untold abilities. Before you could stop her, she threw Luffy’s straw hat into the air and bolted for the opening of the large tent. Two members of the circus crew managed to drag her back to the group which she then berated the jester before you for destroying the town the tent was situated in. The conviction she held in her voice sounded quite intimidating, but the clown just laughed in response. He used a small knife to cut a piece of apple and place it into his mouth, while nonchalantly saying he didn’t destroy everything in the town – he allowed the townspeople to keep their hands to applaud his act.

You inhaled through your nose deeply and widened your eyes at his comment, breathing out slowly through your mouth while fixating your gaze onto his relaxed form. He continued to look over the four of you with a twinkling smile as he consumed his crisp apple before his gaze fell over you.

“You,” he began, pointing at you with the small knife in his hand, “you have been awfully quiet.” He gestured to the rest of the crew with the same knife, “that one threatened me,” he said pointing at Zoro, “that one attempted to bribe me,” he pointed the knife at Nami while sauntering over to the spot you were situated, next to Luffi and Zoro.

“Your Captain lays claim to what’s rightfully mine,” he continued while stalking your form. Your eyes leave his form to look to your companions.

“Don’t you look away from me!” he yelled suddenly at you, causing you to flinch in response. Your body began to tremble slightly at his demands, not used to threats of great violence being thrown at you at a whim. He almost danced over to your place on the ground, bringing his body within an uncomfortable proximity to your own. He made no effort to hide his gaze raking over your body from the hair on your head to the shoes adorning your feet.

Although he had a large nose that immediately drew your attention to it, you couldn’t help but to notice the hue of his irises hidden amongst white, red and blue paint. The intensity of his gaze was drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The hue was akin to several fine gemstones you worked with in your family’s smithery. Jade, sapphire, tourmaline and emerald being the first stones that sprung to your mind while gazing at the angry and menacing clown before you.

“And what would you do, hm?” he condescendingly smirked at you, “you’re no fighter, by the looks of you.”

You held his gaze, staring deeply into his mischievous teal eyes while searching your mind for a response to his pointed question. He placed the small knife into his breast-pocket within his long fur coat and stalked slowly over to you like an animal prowling over to their meal. You trailed your eyes over his form slowly, raking and sizing him up with a small amount of unbridled suggestion held behind your eyelids.

Unsure if what came over you was bravery, stupidity or something else entirely, you reached your right hand forward and swiftly grasped the mustard coloured cravat hanging tightly from his neck and pulled him into you with all of your strength and successfully closed the distance between your bodies.

He was right of course, you were no fighter. Your skills lay in appraising fine metals, gemstones and hand whittled crafts. You read books filled with fairytales, poetry and refrains whispered between lovers. With your occupation, an aura of charisma would often aid in sales; whether you were doing the buying or the selling. You were known far and wide in your homeland as someone with a small amount of flirtatious charm, which was why you were asked to aid your father in his journey to the “tight-pocket” Captain Morgan. You were to charm him as you did many others, swindling them out of their apprehensions and bringing more berry to the till of your family’s business.

A shocked whimper left the lips of the Genius Jester as you tenderly placed your own lips against his, bringing your left hand to his side and using it to bring his body flush against your own, cradling him into a tender embrace. Your eyes were closed as you deepened the kiss shared between you. You began using your lips to open his and caressing them slightly with your tongue.

You slowly felt him relax into your embrace as he placed one hand to the back of your head and the other hand wove itself around you, placing it to the small of your back. He almost gently laced his gloved hand into your hair and held you tightly against him. He released a stifled gasp into your mouth as the hand on your lower back squeezed slightly, pressing your bodies closer together. You released your right hand and moved it tenderly from his cravat to his jaw, feeling the slightly prickled skin beneath his painted face.

Not a word was uttered, silence engulfing the space. In this instance, nothing existed to either of you apart from the moment you were sharing with one another. The map? Gone from both of your minds as you held each other tenderly. You arched your back, pressing your chest further into him as you began lacing your fingers into the hair peaking out from the bottom of his broad hat. You snaked your left hand around his waist, beneath his fur coat and raked your fingertips over his skin, causing him to moan into your mouth and cradle you further into him.

You utilized your head to nudge his own head upward for you to deepen the kiss further. Trailing your hand from the hair under his hat down towards his neck and exploring his pectorals, you massaged down his body while holding him tightly and skillfully in this heated embrace. Your fingers began to explore the flesh of his back, lifting the material slightly to expose his flesh to your administrations.

He did not withhold any sounds from escaping his lips, as small groans released from his lips between kisses alerted you to how much he was truly enjoying your touch. You even allowed some gasps to escape your own lips as you continued to caress, massage and cradle him to yourself as he held you.

You were not foreign to the romantic touch of others by any means, but this kiss felt unlike anything you had experienced prior. You could almost feel his desire for affection as he hungrily held your body against him. Waves of loneliness escaped from his form and onto you as he began to be filled instead with your freely given affection, unlike the painted women he would pay berry for their time.

He groaned slightly and furrowed his brows together at the thought, releasing your lips from his own and holding you to him. His eyes bore into your own as your lips parted from one another, almost gazing into your very soul with the intensity he held.

Without warning, he pushed you from his body and swatted your hands from their position on his back. He turned to face away from you and brought his gaze to your captain before monologuing.

“Ok, here end the theatrics,” he began as the spot lights filter onto the four of you.

“I know one of you have my map, and I’m gonna get it back,” he said with malicious intent.

“What was it you said, rubber boy? That it was ‘in a safe place’?” he mocked with a small glint in his eye. Luffy looked to you in confusion.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he laughed. You trailed your eyes over his features, noticing the paint over his lips appeared more smudged than it had been moments prior. You then began to imagine how your face may appear after you shared the kiss with him moments prior.

“So,” he clapped his hands together and looked to his gang of circus members, “please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room.”

You felt hands clasp your wrists. You looked around to see a large man in a leotard grasping your form before you looked back to the clown. Your eyes met briefly once more, an unfamiliar emotion that could almost be described as a combination apprehension, longing and desire located in his eyes as your body was dragged to another location, this time without your captain amongst you.

You held little resistance as your body was escorted away. You looked to Luffy once more and attempted to reassure him with a nod as you walked briskly to be caged with your friends.

Nami was placed in a small cage suspended above the ground, whereas Zoro was bound to a large spinning wheel. As they were placed into these positions, their movements protesting and making it difficult for your captors to place them in these restricting positions; you held no such apprehension.

An aura of calm was coming from your form, confusing the large leotard-clad man. You placed your wrists together and held them out in front of you with a shrug and almost taunted him with how easy you were making this for him. His brows knit together in a puzzled fashion as he began to bind your hands in rope and tie you to a post away from your companions.

Once successfully restrained, the circus people left you with your thoughts as cries of laughter were echoing to the chamber that sounded like it was being pulled from the mouth of your captain.

“You kissed the clown?” uttered your green-haired, tri-sword wielding companion in a low accusatory tone, “why did you kiss the clown?”

You laughed slightly at the question, looking down at your bonds as you wiggled your hands against the tightly clasped rope, testing it for any sort of weakness amongst the restraint.

“I honestly can say I have no idea,” you smiled while pressing your knee against the post you were bound to with a small shove to assess its strength.

“It was incredibly stupid,” Nami commented from her enclosure, “if you were that touch-starved, I’m sure Zoro or Luffy wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to give them a little smooch.”

You turned your gaze over to Nami momentarily before rolling your eyes.

“Oh please,” you replied, “Zoro, I’m sure you are a wonderful kisser but unfortunately you don’t quite have what I’m looking for.”

He scoffed slightly at the comment while you moved your hands down to the hilt of your belt and began searching the folds of your skirts with your wrists.

“And if you don’t mind me asking, what does the dangerous clown-man have that Zoro doesn’t?” Nami asked with a teasing tone. Your wrists find the object within your belt and you smiled broadly, gripping it and bringing it to the light.

“Right now?” you said with a small twinkle in your eyes as you held the small object up to your new friends, "a knife."

For the first time in a while, the three of you shared a laugh before you all began to attempt an escape from the bonds of the green room.

Part 2

#buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla #buggy #captain buggy #kiss #creative writing #you #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #unnamed reader #y/n no name #original character #buggy x female reader #buggy x kiss #x reader

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ominus-potato · 2 months

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Caine... buddy...

Good news!! The sketch and script for the next part to my royal AU is finished!! I just need to do line art, background, colouring.... shading.. add in and edit text... oh boy this'll take a while.

Anywho, heres some food in the mean time

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanart #tadc kinger #the amazing digital circus fanart #the amazing digital circus kinger #tadc caine #the amazing digital circus caine #kingleader #kinger x caine #royalteeth #2

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decvyed · 3 months

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TRIPLE THREAT COLLECTION FEAT. SATANSHUBBY & SIIK

Hey everyone, for this drop, I teamed up with @squaresverse & @siik-manic to put together a club-ready collection suitable for anyone trying to stand out in the VIP section. As usual, I have included an in game version as well as a blender version with 4K textures maps. We hope you enjoy this collection and look forward to seeing your characters in it! 🙏🏾✨ Make sure to get the "No Bars Lacefront" from SATANSHUBBY HERE Make sure to get the "RAW Lacefront" from SIIK HERE This drop includes the following: DD G-String 12 Swatches - Female Frame - Bottom Category - Specular Map for Shine DD G-String Add On 12 Swatches - Female Frame - Gloves Category - Use to change colour of G-String DD Logo Plate Bra 12 Swatches - Female Frame - Top Category - Specular Map for Shine DD Maxi Skirt 20 Swatches - Female Frame - Bottom Category DD Maxi Skirt (With G-String) 20 Swatches - Female Frame - Bottom Category - Specular Map for Shine DD Logo Plate 2 Piece 12 Swatches - Female Frame - Full Body Category - Specular Map for Shine DD Logo Plate 2 Piece (Sample) 4 Swatches - Female Frame - Full Body Category - Specular Map for Shine

Triple Threat Collection (Blender Only) 4K Texture Maps - Female Frame - Rigged New Mesh • Med-High Poly • HQ Texture • BG Compatible • Teens to Elders • All LODs • Custom Thumbnail • Disallowed for Random Base Mesh Credit: Wolves Studios Base Body Credit: @magic-bot Texture Map Credit: @squaresverse DOWNLOAD Download the DD Logo Plate 2 Piece Sample for Free TOU:

Conversions are not allowed regardless of the gaming platform

Do not reupload

Do not claim as your own

Do not edit or recolour the mesh

Alternate Link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/97020267 Thank you for shopping DECAYED. Feel free to tag us on Instagram or use the hashtag #SHOPDECAYED on Tumblr. We love to see you in our content.🙏🏾💫 You can also see our previous releases on our Pinterest Board 🌟

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simp-ly-writes · 1 month

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Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.3)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: Its the task force's first mission as Agents at Taylor Tailor's. How will it go- will other agents accept them and most of all- will you be able to handle working with so many agents on the same mission?

Warnings:2500 words, light swearing and teasing, depictions of blood and violence. A/N: sorry for the delay... decided to change the look of these stories too (hope you like the change!). Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

6:00 PM | Autumn | National Museum of Art and History

Agent Whitby grips the back of another man's suit into a fist, slamming his face repeatedly into the brick wall of the storage room. Blood pours out from their nose, a harsh gash forming against their left cheek and forehead- the skin purple and blue as one of their eyes swells shut. “You really are wasting my time here- you’re a waste of time really for anyone so why not just tell me what the code is, make it easy on your looks and my patience- hm?” he challenges, flicking his head back as the man tries to elbow him in the face.

Letting out a tisk, Whitby drops the man, holding him in place with a dress shoe to the chest as he feels the man begin to cough up blood as he cringes, eyeing at the lower fabric of his suit becoming damaged by the liquid. Letting out a sigh, while shaking his head, glass slipping down his face as he reaches into his waistband leveling the barrel of the gun in between their eyes.

“Let us try this again, where-” Whitby pauses at the sound of your voice coming through his earpiece, tilting his head to the side as he continues to stare down at the man, waiting for him to speak the answers he evers-so needs.

“Whitby, do you have a moment?” you ask coated in sweety-coated sarcasm as you watch him through a hidden camera put on his glasses- observing the man on the floor with mocking pity on your features as you turned to Laswell and point to the room Whitby closed himself into as various enemies flooded the floors below him, making their way upstairs and into the ancient egyptian part of the museum.

“All my time is yours, love. Only to ask,” Whitby says lovingly while stepping into the man's chest harder, hearing as he wheezes out from the pressure. “Warming my heart here darling,” you start to say, hands moving across the keyboard as you add the scanned models of your newest agents into the digital model. “Whitby, I am sending my newest agents in to help you as a gage for the training that needs to be done. You are in charge, congrats- you are a new father of four!”

“You’re joking-” Whity begins to say before Handler Jacobs patches themselves into the call, a still image of them setting on your computer screen as soundwaves spike and drop in rhythm to his speech. “Agent, this is Handler Jacobs, you are green to finish him off- passcode is.” You wince as the gunshot rings in your ears- stilling the blood in your body as switch yours and Laswell’s calls over to the boys comms as they arrive at the scene. Their once greyed out figures now bursting with colour and moving in sync to their current actions.

“Alright Agents, give me a sign that you hear me,” you test, watching the surveillance coverage with a nervous smile as you begin to pick at your nail polish, blood pumping and making it way upwards to your head- settling its thundering beat in your ears. Laswell scoots her office chair closer, placing a hand on your shoulder for reassurance as you let out a large breath. “Loud and clear” rings through your comms as you shake Laswells hand off of you, moving to stand and lean over the diagram. “A physical sign please-” you stress as silence is all you receive on the line, watching as they start to whisper to one another and look around, feeling around their suits.

“I don’t think I copy, Dee…” Gaz says, rubbing the back of his head. “I watch your every move boys while on a mission. And that is Handler D, please. Turn left and go through the staff entrance, inside the envelope is a swipe to get through the door. Charlotte has already put your biometrics into the security. You will have to climb up the disabled elevator shaft. Agent Whitby is on the third floor in the Egyptian exhibit awaiting your arrival as we speak.”

“Oh,” Soap responded, waving his hands widely in the hair as you shake your head- looking at Laswell who is struggling to contain her laughter as you grip at the table, knuckles turning white. You watch as the task force makes their way, peering down each corner and into the elevator shaft as they begin to climb the ropes. You watch their technique, writing a few notes on a nearby paper-pad from your desk upon their technique. “We are on the third floor,” John states.

“Walk as I talk please, turn left, left again, open the yellow door to your right there is a card swipe behind the suit of armour. In 10 steps you find a closet door, open it,” you order, falling back into your chair as their digital models work through the space, guns raised as you click your pen on and off, listening as your clicks sound in tune to the digital clock on your screen. You continue your notes as a ping vibrates through your phone. Mouthing a thank you to Laswell, the report you asked for finally in your inbox.

“Well hello there,” Whitby states, picking up the dead man's handkerchief as he cleans his hands before shaking each of the task force’s in a strong grip and tight smile. “Agent Whitby, do follow me,” he commands, dropping the piece of cloth to the floor before ushering the group outside the closet as he starts to jog down the hall and places the code into the staff hallway before continuing to navigate the maze of white tiled floors and beige walls without a blink of worry. Handler Jacobs rattles off directions in his earpiece as the task force remains impressed by his supposed memorization of the building.

“Alright boys, there is one hostile coming up on your west in 5, 4, 3 2, and…” you watch as Johnny tackles the forager into a nearby cart, various vitals of chemicals spill across the floor as they hiss and fizzle amongst one another, eating away at the leather of his shoes. Loosening his tie, Whitby restrains the woman, humming to himself while scanning the rest of the hallway. “Good work, agent,” Whitby compliments, clapping a hand down on their shoulder before continuing to move down the hall and sporadically turning on 90 degrees to slam the door back on another forger, they curse out in pain, dropping to their knees before quickly standing and rushing out into the hall, starting to swing at Whitby.

Dipping down and extending his leg outwards, the man falls over, face slamming into the tile floors below just before they grip his ankle, tackling the agent down with him. Various punches are shared before Whitby has their purple-head in between his thighs- they whimper for air, slamming their fists repeatedly against his thighs while. Whitby signals over for another tie as John wraps the fabric tightly around their wrists. Straightening his jacket one more, Whitby’s chest rapidly rises and falls- needing air he unbuttons a series from his dress shirt before punching in a code back into the door as it creaks in welcome.

Flicking the lights on, Whitby now walks with a limp to his step- observing the various artifacts in the room sat beside the fakes that were to be sold. Pinching the edge of his glasses, he takes a series of photos- uploading them into the system. “Ghost and Soap, right? If you could demolish these fakes.”

“You have 12 combatants coming from the roof, 20 minutes until they reach you all,” you comment, eyes flicking from the model to the surveillance photo as you chew your lip anxiously. “I have already informed Kyle and Price in the hall but the police are on their way- 30 minutes tops you all. Destroy and set the forgers in place. We cannot be seen,” you state, setting a timer to each of their watches.

“Then let the fun begin,” Whitby announces to the room before they all get to work smashing through the various fake vases and statues that were to be sold for profit through these criminals. Porcelain shards fly and rattle against one another, crunching beneath their shoes. Glass cabinets are flung open, mixing with the debris on the floor as Soap sets fire to a fake wooden ship carving. Flicking your vision back to the hall, John and Kyle made their way back into the room, tying the criminals to desk chairs and placing a bat at their feet with a smirk. Just as they shut the door behind themselves, you clicked a button on your console as the ties fell from their hands and the forgers scrambled and scratched against the door for an escape to only find none besides the prison cell that awaits them.

“You are to take your cars back, Whitby is driving to get your gear cleaned before you step back into the facility- safety protocol. Good work today, boys- a few training notes I have for later but other than that, a successful mission is all that matters- management is pleased,” you note watching as they descended from the window, grappling with their belt and buckle before skirting off into the city streets.

A rock station began to bang through the car's audio system just before you shut off communications and watched them drive to the specialty cleaners. Taking a stand and clapping your hands, Laswell rubbed her eyes before announcing her departure. Taking a long hug together you showed her back to the store front before running across the street to pick up a bottle of liquor. Smiling at the black label brand you pay and dash back to the lobby - pouring out a series of cups with ice and phone for Charlotte, Jason, Jacobs, and Samantha to join you all for a debrief.

–

You smile, watching as the boys do their best to flatten out their freshly primed suits and straighten their ties before walking up to you lounging in one of the many chairs in the large living space of the lobby. The leather creaks under each of their weight, each man smiling as you hand over a glass of Tennessee whisky just as Whitby sends you a knowing wink while eyeing up the bottle.

“Interesting choice, sweetheart.” He teases as you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder with your own playfully before he starts to lean closer to you, lips drifting featherlight words into your ear as your cheeks turn back. Charlotte smiles at the bottom of her glass, emitting an echoing chuckle before locking her ankles with Jacobs sat across from her.

“Are you all dating? Or is this an agent-handler culture thing we don’t understand?” Johnny asks. Eyeing the way Whitby's hands drift across your clothing, finding hidden bits of your warm skin with a small frown as you furiously shake your head. “No, no, no, definitely not. But in this line of work specifically… you only want to get with people who really know you- for you. Not the management-mandated mask externally…” you drift off just as Whitby places a hand on your knee, smiling reassuringly before standing and distributing the rest of the bottle as you each cheer for a successful first mission.

Returning back home, flicking on the bedroom lamp and getting ready for the night and the subsequent morning after. You could only close that night, snuggling into your cold empty sheets of your house- praying that your remaining “favour-missions” go just as smoothly as the last.

But as the cold night air wept its way through the curtains and into your harrowing dreams as you tossed and turned through the night, gripping and digging into your sheets as the streets became lively in the morning light. Your alarm sounded as you felt around to slam it down shut, another day, another mission done and with your bags packed in preparation. It would be a quick training session and the team's first international mission as a kidnapped royal needed your help.

You groaned at the panic voice mail, the personal bodyguard shaking like a leaf before pleading through your home's digital system speakers. You start a voicemail while pouring a cup of coffee, the toaster pops up as you navigate through the kitchen and settle down at the island.

“I have an agent close by to their last known location- they will be forwarded until I can get me and my team into a local base of operations. We will bring them home for the country,” you finish the note with, chugging down the rest of your drink before washing your plates in the sink. Feeling underneath the counter, your fingers dip into crevices- a light flashes red and the floor just beside your slides open.

A fireproof box hisses open to your fingerprint, various foreign currencies and passports from your past missions flood your memories, fingers drifting over each material and number before settling them on the countertop.

Stepping into your pantry you push back on a wall, the surface rumbles for a moment before turning itself and revealing a series of steps down towards your basement. The lights flicker on to your presence, humming slightly above your head as you make your way down the firing range and towards your collection. Gently picking up and cleaning each gun, you place them in their travel safe and locked containers before slamming the door behind you.

Packing your belongings into a bulletproof suitcase- made from the same material as your suit. “X?” you request to your house, “Yes, Handler Daniels?” the AI responds in a pleasant accent back- awaiting your every order. “Please make a suit reservation in one hour, request for beige to be brought out- we are going tropical,” you state. “Very well,” X responds back before going silent once more.

Suiting yourself up, tying up your dress shoes and slinging a shoulder bag on, you look between the car options you have before deciding on an SUV- needing the seating space for their airport trip that awaited you. Checking your appearance one last time in the rearview mirror you rolled out the driveway and down the country roads. Your house is locked automatically with the lack of your detected presence.

Clicking on the radio, Skyfall began to play through the radio as you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel while awaiting a light change. Rolling your eyes as a driver in front of you almost clipped a pedestrian on the sidewalk wishing to cross on their signal. You pulled into the underground garage underneath the building before driving into a specific parking spot off in a dim corner. It scans the bottom of your car, clicking with approval once finding your matching icon before lowering you deeping into the ground. You smile seeing the various sports cars and SUVs already parked in a line- workers busy or some that even worked through the night as you smile at Samanatha as she waves you in from the front desk, settling yourself in the office once more you read through Lasswell's report before sending out the email. Back your bags boys, we are going international.

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @infpt-zylith @kaoyamamegami @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt

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