#hand sewing it all cause i got no sewing machine

[zeynatura]

These 2 edits are too good not to share ajxikenfnsjajdjndssid pun/innuendo intended ty

Yes I cosplayed THE Aoba Cake for Halloween 😎💙

#iiyo #i just got home from the party but i worked 3 weeks on that cosplay! #hand sewing it all cause i got no sewing machine #plus i am kinda scared of them machines #dramatical murder #aoba seragaki #dmmd #aoba cake #ALSO #i couldnt see anything with the mask on lol #🤙 #and yes i dyed and cut my hair just for this cosplay #worth it #i just realized the pictures are mirrored #ugh #whatever #u get the idea #im tired

[dcxdpdabbles]

I got the Passion For Fashion brainworms, and since you're guilty for it you WILL get my headcannons.

Since Clockwork made them know spanish as if it was their first language, they only talk in spanish with eachother, more often than not completely forgetting that they are talking in SPANISH.

Danny and Dan like bickering and banter but since they were basically eachother once upon a time they know eachother's limits perfectly. That causes them to say a lot of agressive and downright nasty stuff to eachother so it always sounds like they hate eachother and are constantly fighting.

Clockwork gave them the "essentials" for making clothes, so Dan will absolutely just spam Danny's phonenwith pictures and descriptions of a sewing gadget or tool and be like "Danny i need this. Please. I know you keep making stuff don't lie to me. I know you can do it so please just make it. Danny we are too poor to buy this. Danny PLEASE I need it" until Danny accepts making the thing in true Fenton fashion.

Danny and Dan making up names for themselves because no sane parent names both of their twins "Daniel"

"I swear to the Ancients I will NOT hesitate to go Cain Instinct on your ass-"

Making fun of Vlad together. Just. Making fun of him in general.

The pmoment Bruce decides to show some interest in the twins Danny go home running and be like "Dan. Dan I fuckked up. Dan there's another billionaire after us. Dan how do I always fuck this up." and since they're both dumbasses they panic together and the batkids (who are most likely listening in with a bug or smth) are all just laughing at Bruce's sour face.

Dan headcannons cuz i love him:

I think that even if they're identical twins, Dan has longer hair with a dark gray streak (cuz of vlad ofc)

even if he is a fashion maker he probably goes everywhere wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

Dan forcefully makes Danny do skincare to make his appearance look good but will never even drink a glass of water for his own health.

I love them and spent the entire day without internet so now I'm devoting myself thanks for the content <3<3

I love all of these!! Its beautiful!

Danny and Dan not realizing they slipped into Spanish is such a mood tbh. Sometimes, my coworkers and I do that, and my non Spanish speaking coworker just stares at us until we snap.

Lowkey they dislike each other, but they also love each other, and no one can tell with the insults they threw. Danny and Dan live and breath the "Only I can be mean to my sibling!"

Danny would make Dan anything he asked for if it meant keeping his Obsession healthy. On the one hand, it gives him something to do and, on the other hand, keeps Dan from jumping off the deep end again. He does get annoyed with Dan spamming him at three in the moring for "A machine that could double bedazzled and polish!"

Both kept their names as Danny and Dan, so neither is Daniel. Clockwork did that when he made their files. He knew if he tried to change their names, both would refuse to answer.

They turned Vlad into a verb. Danny trips over air? "You went and Vlad-ed everything bro" Dan refuses to shower cause he has some embroidery to do? "Ugh you Vlad-ed all of my scent receivers" sometimes when the fight is really big Danny will yell "YOUR JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER VLAD!" and Dan will gasp dramatically before bursting into tears. ( Cause he took Vlad ghost that makes him half vlad and Dan has to live with that)

Bruce would never understand why the twins are more freaked out by Brucie Wayne then Batman. His kids think it's hilarious.

Dan and Danny are identical down to the hairstyle in my au, but That will change with time. Dan will grow out his hair to put it in a man bun, while Danny will cut it short. And yes, Dan wears nothing by sweats or PJs. He doesn't care about the clothes after they are finished. He just likes making them.

Dan was a pure ghost for almost ten years before Clockwork messed with his body and threw it back into its teens. He is not used to doing most basic human needs like showering, eating, sleeping, and, of course, drinking water. Danny has to remind him his headache is due to lake of all the things mentioned. That will not stop him from designing a strict beauty regime for Danny, including hourly water intake.

Last little detail, both are terrible at social interactions. Dan beacuse he thinks of himself as a ghost and doesn't like humans so he avoids them if he can and Danny cause he sees everyone as unimportant since he's planning on going home. Neither of them know anything about Batman besides what clockwork told them. As of part 3 they didn't even know he was a vigilante. So this lake of information means they don't know anyhring about the rest of Gotham and that will play a big part in how they react to villains.

Also yes, Dan was being genuinely interested when he flirted with Killer Croc, but that's cause he thought he was a EverBurning. A group of Lizard men in the ghost zone is similar to the FarFrozen society only they live in volcano surrounded by lava.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #mun speaks #passion for fashion #side notes and headcanons

[mandomaterial]

I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

Like this? Check out my Masterlist

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

#Miguel #miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader angst #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara #Miguel ohara fluff #Miguel O’hara fluff #Miguel x reader angst fluff #miguel x reader fluff #spiderman #atsv #x reader comfort #x hurt reader #Miguel hurting reader #Miguel scaring reader #reader scared of Miguel #how do i tag thisss? #Miguel O’hara chasing reader

[xreaderanonaccount]

Capitano x Worried!Reader

Synopisis: Gruff, strong, and stone cold Capitano with a worried s/o. Reader is G/N

Tags: Fluff, Dottore being an ass,

Divider credits: cafekitsune

Capitano with a worried s/o who is always scolding him for always getting hurt, but no matter how much scolding he gets he can rely on you and only you to patch him back up. Cause he doesn’t want the medics to patch him up, they’re scared shitless of him. But you, you patch him up with the utmost care and love that anyone envy’s for. He’ll gladly sit down and listen to you scold him over how he shouldn’t take 3 squads of ruins guards on his own. If it only meant he can have your hands on him. Your soft hands on him. Oh how he’ll melt in them, you have this man wrapped around your finger. 

“You have to be careful next time!” Your worried voice echos the shared chamber in the Zapolyarny palace. Capitano could only chuckle as he leaned back playfully crushing you beneath his weight. You yelled in frustration as you tried your best to push Capitano away but no luck. This man was heavy.

“I promise to be careful next time.” He sighed as you got off of you settling back down on the edge of the bed. Letting you continue stitching the open wound on his shoulder. You huffed as you took the needle through his skin sewing the wound shut. 

“You better be, if not I’ll have to go to the doctor and ask him to revive you myself.” You pouted as you tied the stitch close.

“Don’t go to the doctor.” Capitano’s voice suddenly became stern, you knew better to mention the doctor. Capitano doesn’t trust him at all, not even with a pillow. He’ll somehow turn that pillow into a killing machine…

“I know, I won’t” You softly smiled as you planted a kiss on his now clean and stitched wound. 

Capitano is very protective over you, especially that one time Dottore decided to pull a cruel prank by giving you a fake report on how Capitano was severely injured and he might not make it. You had a full blown breakdown worried about your poor lover. When Capitano came back to the Zapolyarny Palace so many fatui scouts came running to him rushing him to their shared quarters. 

You straight up built a memorial for him, with your closest attendant by your side who is trying to comfort you. As soon as your attendant noticed Capitano he quickly rushed him to you pleading with him to comfort you. Capitano wrapped his big overcoat over you and gave you a tight hug. You were shocked only for a little bit before you threw yourself onto him crying your poor eyes out in Capitano’s arms.Capitano would gently ask you what happened and through your tears you would tell him what happened. He swears he’s going to kill Dottore the next time he sees him. 

The minute Capitano walked into the Zapolyarny Palace he was bombarded by his men. All talking over themselves, he has no idea what is happening but the minute one of them mentioned your name he sternly asked what happened. One of them finally explained that you said that he had died. Capitano could feel a blood vein pop as he hurriedly went to the shared chamber. When he entered he spotted your sniffling form over a picture of you and him when you visited Mondstadt that one time. Your closest attendant was comforting you as you continued your obituary. Capitano softly closed the door trying not to gain attention from you, but alas he was caught as your attendant looked up and spotted him awkwardly standing near the door. The attendant rushed him over to you who was still crying your poor heart out. Capitano stared down on your crying form, he wanted to rip his heart out and offer it to you as an apology. But he knew that you would be angry about that. Capitano heaved an internal sigh as he removed his heavy outer jacket, draping it over your shoulders. You jolted in surprise, you whipped around to see Capitano kneeling down to you. You shouted his name as you threw yourself on him crying your poor heart out in his arms. Thanking the Tsaritsa over and over again for bringing him home safe and sound. Capitano soothes you, rubbing small circles on your back. 

“What happened my love?” He asked, his voice bringing so much comfort to you.

“D-dottore, s-said that you were… were” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before bursting into tears. But you didn’t need to say anything more. He already knew what happened, Dottore pulling one of his cruel experiments on you. When he explicitly told Dottore not to do his little “experiments” on you. He’ll have to do a very very stern talking to Dottore. Not like he’ll listen anyway. 

Capitano is a strong and tough man but he has a very very soft spot for you. Imagine this, the strongest man in teyvat holding a small flower in his hand because you found one growing outside the palace. And since flowers are hard to grow in Snezhnaya you decided to give this precious flower to someone precious to you. 

“What do you have there Lord Capitano?” Childe asked, Capitano held a small daisy in his hand. His expression is hard to tell. 

“A flower.” 

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #capitano x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

anon asked:

Hi! It says on your description thing that your requests are open? ( I’m sorry for this if they’re closed :’) )

I read your request rules and it said you take poly kiribaku and I was wondering if you could write a scenario of kiribaku with a fashion designer reader? reader makes them suits and an outfit for themselves from scratch for an event? Just kinda funny fluffy stuff with reader slowly getting more annoyed at them not cooperating ( mainly Bakugou cause he’s Bakugou lol ) but still managing to finish and make them cool suits and an outfit for themselves too :)

I’ve had this lil idea in my head for months now and I love your writing, so if you think you could do something with this I’d be very happy :)) ( sorry for the long request, if you don’t want to write this I wouldn’t mind, also sorry again if your requests are closed :’) )

thank you! :))

a/n: so sorry its a bit short anon, but i did what i could!

w.count: 1.1k

your office was currently a mess. an organized mess but a mess nonetheless and katsuki made sure you knew that by his sneering. it wasn't unusual for either of your boyfriends' to stop by your workplace for various reasons. forgot your lunch, bringing you papers you needed, maybe repairs to their hero suits since your stitching 'holds up better than others'. still, this time you were the one to strong-arm them into both coming by. or rather, strong-arm katsuki, since eijirou had no issues in popping by when you called.

your work office was filled with used and unused mannequins, your main desk, a separate desk littered with fabric scraps, your sewing machines, and straight pens left, right, and center. there was also a quiant little loveseat with two comfortable cushions you have for visiting clients.

that very loveseat is where both your boyfriends' currently parked their asses. you standing in front of them with your hands on your hips and a tape measure gripped in your palm.

"i dont see why we need all new shit," katsuki groans, his arms on the back of the loveseat, looking away from your unimpressed scowl. eijiou curls his lips in to try- and fail- to conceal the amused look on his face.

you had called them both here because of the next hero gala. the dates were finally sent out to those permitted to attend, and both of their names were on the roster. of course, they would be going- mostly because katsuki's pr team begged him to- and since they got to bring plus ones along, you would also be with them.

the two of them have always been wearing store bought formal wear or renting suits, but this was literally your area of expertise! you would get measurements from the two of them if it was the last thing youd do before making them outfits they can freely keep for such occasions.

eijirou had no qualms about the whole process. in fact, his measurements went smoothly aside from him flexing his arms when you were trying to get their circumference.

"yes, you're very muscular babe, now relax your arm or so help me," was what he got in return to his playful tomfoolery. checking off his waist and hips was also filled with banter since at least three times he had hugged you and kept joking about how he wasn't just going to not when you were right in front of him. that would be far too many wasted opportunities.

katsuki had been scrolling on his phone the whole time eijirou was prolonging his process by playing harmless pranks and showering you in goofy affection as he does. you almost wished you had measured him last to get the stubborn fool that is katsuki over with first though.

now, here you stand, impatiently waiting for him to get his ass up and get started.

"katsuki," you warn, his head tipping back in a groan. "i've got all day," you tell him as if you weren't bothered in the slightest. you were though, and annoyed to boot. while you did in fact have time, that doesn't mean you want it to be wasted in a battle of wits.

"what's the damn point of taking measurements? we've got plenty of shit at home to wear."

"no, you don't. I do, but you guys have nothing properly formal enough for a gala, and im sick of renting suits when i can just make something and save some money in the process. do you know how expensive it is to rent a suit? no, because you're loaded, so up."

"i did enough of this kinda shit growin' up, i aint dealing with it when im not even livin' with my folks anymore."

you roll your tongue across your teeth, squeezing the space between your eyes with your fingers and holding yourself back.

"come on, kats, don't be such a fun sponge," eijirou tries to help. knocking him lightly in the side with his elbow, katsuki just huffs and looks at the nearest clock as if gauging when your workday was supposed to end and how long he can keep this up.

"fine," you heave, tossing your measuring tape at his chest before it flops onto his legs. "have it your way."

"that's what I tho-"

"I'll just call mitsuki and she can give me your measurements." there was a slight pause after your claim settles into the air you three occupy.

"what?" he almost sounded like he didn't believe you. but oh how serious you are.

"go on, shoo." you walk back towards your main desk with your computer and grab your purse where you start digging around for your phone. "i have a phone call to make, so go somewhere else if you're not going to be useful. oh, eijirou you can stay though if you want."

"hey!" katsuki, pulling his arms off the back of the couch, both offended that he was being kicked out while his boyfriend got to stay and miffed because- were seriously going to call his mom? over his measurements? god, who knows what else could come out of that hag's mouth if you call her asking for that. the last thing he needed was you and his mother commenting on how small his waist was or worse.

you plant yourself in your desk chair and pull over a notepad and pen to write down the oncoming numbers you would be getting one way or the other. katsuki springs from the loveseat when he sees the phone line start dialing from across the room against your cheek.

the phone rings twice and you're ready to apologize for calling in the middle of the work day when she picks up, but before you could your phone was ripped from your hand and away from your cheek.

"wha- katsuki!" you utter in disbelief.

"ignore this," he huffs before hanging up the call and tossing your tape measure into your face.

"take your stupid ass measurements, but you don't get this back for a while." the blond tosses your phone over to kirishima who had been gleefully watching the free entertainment. the red head catches it easily and safely tucks it into his pocket.

"traitor," you send his way across the room and he just shrugs.

"sorry, boyfriend's orders."

"that's right," katsuki backs him up with his arms crossed and you return the sentiment by jabbing him in the side with the back of your pen. "now hurry up, this offer expires soon."

"i hate you," you groan as you get up and untangle your measuring tape to start the process of finally getting what you needed.

"no you don't."

"i wish i did."

"liar."

"shut up, im concentrating."

he hates to admit it, but the group of coordinating matching outfits you three all wear to the gala weeks later was totally worth pushing your buttons for. plus, it was cute to rile you up sometimes.

(mitsuki did call his cell later that day to explain why it's incredibly rude to hang up on his mother. he hung up on her again.)

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku fluff #kiribaku x reader fluff #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x y/n fluff #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

[the-fiction-witch]

Just Breathe With Me

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet as Sugar!

Requested Can you please do a Jack Dawkins x reader who has a panic attack? ( comfort/fluff no smut ) wait omg plz do 🙏 only if you're comfortable of course

Warnings: Panic Attack In great detail! Please be careful!

I opened my eyes and was forced into this world, for a few brief seconds I enjoyed my peace until the chaos ensued. 

Olivia cried in her crib, her little body in her baby clothes stood up in her crib, her hands on the top of the bars as she shook them, her face red and her eyes squeezed tight with tears streaming down her face. 

Luna screamed on her bed, wearing her little white nightie, she jumped up and down on her bed screaming at Martin, as he tried to take her teddy. 

Martin shouted as he was took all the various teddies and toys to steal for himself, half-dressed but nothing more than his socks and trousers.

Lucas hits his stick on various things in the house, not dressed at all so he runs around naked, each hit makes a loud bang. 

He even knocks off a vase causing it to smash and sending broken pieces all over the floor. 

I forced myself up out of bed, my body exhausted but I had little choice but to get up and function. I quickly cleaned up the broken vase and just got on. 

I briefly became an octopus or I wish I had,  as I managed to cook breakfast, get each of my siblings washed, dressed, hair brushed and presentable, get myself dressed, changed Olivia, quelled four arguments and made the beds Before we even hit the top of the hour. I felt faint but Ignored it and pushed on. 

And right on time once every job was done, my mother trudged down the staircase from her bedroom upstairs in her nightie, her hair matted and messy, her whole body stank of whiskey, she sat herself in the chair and snapped her fingers.

The snap caused my heart to jump from my chest to my throat, beating rapidly, I hated myself but I handed over her spirit bottle. 

She immediately took an intense swig of it, and the first words out of her mouth were harsh and bitter,

"Where's my vase?"

"Lucas broke it this morning," I told her,

"Find a replacement today."

"Yes Mother," I nodded, 

"And we are out of food."

"Yes, Mother I will get food at the market."

"and I need more drink."

"Yes, Mother I will get some,"

"They'll be late for the schoolhouse."

"I know, I'm just taking them." I nodded, "Come everyone school time." I told them to sort them all out with their books and what little lunch I could give them and got them all out the door on time, 

"You won't see me later, I'm going out."

"Yes Mother," I sighed "Perhaps not too late-"

"Dont. Say a word." She demanded, 

I nodded and just got going into town. 

Of course, the town was bustling with the commotion of carriages, horses, carts and people all going about their business. I did my best with Olivia on my hip to make sure everyone else behaved and avoided getting hurt, having to juggle the three of them to the schoolhouse. a twisting in my stomach but I didn't have time to dwell on it, 

As soon as they were in the school house I had to scamper my way across town to drop Olivia off at her nursery, then before I had much time I had to get myself to my work in the local tailor pushing open the door and heading in grabbing my apron as I went catching my short breath. 

"You're late again!" He snapped,

"Sorry Mr Ashworth, I had to drop my siblings off," I said quickly sitting at my old rickety sewing machine almost fifteen years old this machine but still I had to use it every day to do hems and repairs, the pile as tall as me beside my table, having to go slow but not too slow or I'll never get finished, fast but not to fast as to damage the fabric, or catch my fingers, or break a needle, every time I had to rethread the machine with a new colour or type of thread for a different fabric or use I held my breath for a few seconds it took to change but every second counts and I can't afford delays. The longer the day went on I began to lose feeling in my fingertips, with tingling of pins and needles in my fingers and toes, but I pushed through even if it did mean I cut myself more often as without feeling I got dangerously close to my scissors and needles.

As soon as work was over I had to rush across town and pick up my siblings from the school house, I tried to keep them all in line as we headed to the market, and I got all the things we would need for the next few days while also batting at their hands to try and get them to settle and not steal things even if some things had to be paid for because someone ran off with them, all the while I kept feeling these flashes or heat, or chill but I don't have time to dwell on temperature.

Once I got all the food I took them home and left them to play dropping the groceries off too before I returned back to town to go looking for a replacement for my mother's vase, it was slim pickings but I managed to get one and haggle down the price to what little I had left for this month. I knew by now my legs were trembling, and my body felt like giving in but all I needed now was to pick Olivia up, go home, make dinner, do a round of baths and get everyone to bed. Ready to do all of it again tomorrow. 

When a young boy ran past knocking into me sending me tumbling down to the ground the vase hitting the ground and smashing into a million little pieces.

"No... no... no no no no" I muttered trying to put it back together. 

And the moment it smashed, I completely broke open. 

Tears streamed down my face, as I cried hysterically, my breath short and shaky, my throat choking and tight with every breath, my mouth dry and sickly, my heart raced jumping in and out my chest, my fingers and toes numb, my head dizzy almost to faint, my every limb shook and sweated, my stomach churned and turned like a hurricane, I couldn't even think, or even begin to know where to start to fix myself. 

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A voice asked but I couldn't pick up much about it I just was lost almost distant from my body as it went through this agony, "Come on, with me." He said helping me to my feet and leading me to a rear alley out of sight of others, he helped me to lean against the wall and began to speak to me his voice soothing, and with his every word I began to slowly feel like I was swimming like I was at sea, my body a boat and slowly I was swimming back to it. "Okay, it's okay, Just breathe. Just Breathe with me... Breath in." He asked and I did my best even if I felt so short and so breathless, "And out." He asked so I did as he asked between my tears, "Okay, Just follow me just breathe with me, In... and out." He reassured He walked me through each breath he would make me inhale for five whole seconds, hold it for five more and then release for five seconds, he walked me through this for a good while until my breathlessness began to disappear, and between my tearful eyes my vision cleared and I saw him. 

He was a young man,  I wouldn't say much older than me, in brown trousers, a white shirt, a blue waistcoat, a green tie, a slightly purple jacket, and a hat, he had deep chocolate eyes and seemed to genuinely want to help me. 

"There we go, That a little better?" he asked and I nodded even if I still couldn't stop, "Alright, I want you to do some things for me, alright? Can you do that for me?" he asked and I nodded, "Alright, I want you to tell me three things you can hear, doesn't matter what just focus on the sounds and repeat them back to me."

For a moment I couldn't hear anything my ears ringing and burning but I knew one thing I could hear and I forced it out "You're voice."

"My voice,  That's perfect," He smiled, "You think you can do another one for me?"

I tried to listen to pour all my attention into my ears and I could hear "The Market Stalls,"

"You can hear the market? That's perfect, one more for me? One more thing?"

I listened closely trying hard to hear anything else "horseshoes,"

"Horseshoes, Excellent, what do you think they're from?"

"A carriage maybe?"

"Yeah I think so too," he chuckled, "You able to tell me your name?"

"Y/n."

"Y/n, That's a very lovely name." He smiled, "I'm Jack. You feel a little better?" he asked and I nodded "Good, That's very good. Just slow down, keep breathing for me, just stay here and stay still  a moment."

"I can't I need to-"

"The only thing you need to do right now is to get better. Trust me I'm a doctor. You're strung out to the limit and in the middle of a panic attack. Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait a moment." he said, "Y/n I want you to tell me three things you can see, doesn't matter what any three things."

I was nervous and still struggling but slowly my symptoms began to slow and I noticed just how fuzzy my voice was from the tears and how tunnelled my vision was, "Uhhh I uhh I see you..."

"Good, that's good you see me," he said, "Anything else?"

"The uhhh the sky."

"You see the sky, that's perfect, it's a very nice afternoon. One more I know you can do it."

"The wall, for the bakery."

"That's perfect, the bakery wall. Can you imagine all the lovely cakes, and pasties, and fresh loaves in there?"

"I uhh I can." I nodded,

"Excellent, One more little thing y/n, I want you to tell me three things you feel okay?"

as he said it I noticed just how little I really noticed but with each thing I listed to him I became more aware and more into this world again, 

"I, I feel the wall."

"How does it feel?"

"Cold, uhh stoney I suppose."

"Stoney?" he laughed, "what else?"

I slightly moved my feet feeling the dusty dirt around my boots slightly move to the side like sand as I did so, "I feel the dirt, as it pushes away."

"How does it feel against your boots?" 

"Rough and small" 

"That's good, one more for me, just one more."

As he asked it I felt almost normal, and I noticed "Your hand." I said, His hand graced mine his fingers on my wrist checking my pulse, the other on my neck but not harshly not as if attempting to harm me or threaten my throat but merely rested there as if he was monitoring my every gasp, 

"How do my hands feel?"

"Uhh Warm,"

"Good." 

"They feel rough," I blushed a little trying not to giggle while also trying to you know not insult the man who helped me, 

He chuckled, "Yeah, Surgeon. Sorry about that." He chuckled,

"Does that mean they are dirty?"

"I mean... yeah probably, I'm sorry for that too." 

"It's okay. I uhh Thank you." 

"You're welcome," He smiled, "I saw you were struggling I thought you were having a heart attack and first but no, a panic attack, Do you get these a lot?"

"unfortunately yes." 

"Alright, well. The best thing I can say is to try to manage your stress so it doesn't overflow, maybe slow down a little but those three sights, sounds, and feelings are really good it help calm and ground so use it when you can alright?"

"I uhh I will do my best." 

"I assume you have a stressful life?"

"Understatement." 

"If I let you go right now are you going to go straight back to the level of stress you were at?"

"I uhh... I am late from picking my sister up, and I need to get a new vase for my mother, and I need to get home and do dinner and get everyone to"

"Okay. Okay." he said stopping me, "I'm getting bloody anxious just listening to that," 

"Sorry-"

"It's alright, I was heading home anyway I can come give you a hand if you like?"

"No no, I couldn't-"

"It's no trouble, you need to relax a little if I can take something off your plate anything it'll help. In fact as your doctor at this moment I insist." 

"Well okay, my mother insists I come home with a new vase."

"Okay, I can find a vase. anything particular?"

"No, just a vase."

"Okay." He nods,

"I uhh but I don't have any money left."

"You let me worry about that, it's on me." He smiled, "I'll meet you back here when I'm done." he smiled heading off back to the market, 

I blushed but smiled and headed on my way picking up Olivia luckily she was asleep by now, and I returned to the alley where Jack already waited with a vase in hand. 

"Did I do good?"

"It's beautiful. How'd you-"

"It's best not to ask questions." he winked, "Aww who's this little lady?"

"This is Olivia." I smiled letting him see her but not wake her,

"Aww, she's beautiful, your daughter?"

"Sister, well half-sister really... though I don't honestly know." I answered, "But thank you so much, I really need to get home now,"

"Alright, I'll walk with you, so long as you don't mind,"

"Ohh no of course not, thank you."

"It's alright no trouble, here you take this, and I'll take this little lady." He smiled handing me the vase and taking Olivia letting her sleep on his shoulder as we walked, by the time we got home I felt a rush of anxiety as the house was a tip and my siblings losing their minds from being home alone so long, 

"Oh no no no."

"It's okay, don't worry. You take her and get her to bed. I'll take this lot and sit with them in the garden we can have a play around and get some energy out"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, it's no problem," he said,

"Alright, Okay everyone outside with Mr- uhh"

"Dr, Dawkins."

"Everyone out to the gardens with Dr Dawkins," I told them and of course, a chance to play outside was not passed up, he went out with them and I began work I put Olivia down to sleep in her cot and cleaned the house as best and putting the new vase on the shelf. Once done I sighed in relief and went out keeping the door open as I saw Jack helping my siblings, playing with them, playing a game of knights. Luna is a princess, Martian is a dragon and Lucas is a knight with Jack narrating them and helping them play. 

I smiled and took a seat on the bench outside the front door taking a rare moment to... be at peace, 

"You feel a bit better now?" He asked sitting beside me, 

"Yes, thank you, Jack."

"you're very welcome. they're great, a lot of energy."

"Yeah well the get cooped up a lot." 

"You know talking does wonders for anxiety." He smiled, "I'm not that sort of doctor but I'm happy to listen anyway?"

"I don't want to burden you, you've done enough."

"It's not a burden I want to help, and I admit I'm curious about you." 

I chuckled a little, "Well, we live here all of us."

"All five of you?"

"Six my mother too."

"Ahh, your father?"

"Never met him."

"You said Olivia might be your half-sister, where's her father?"

"They all are my half-siblings, as far as I know. None of us have the same father, as far as I am aware. None of them have ever met them."

"I see. You're mother she a -"

"She was,"

"That explains that then."

"It does, yeah."

"Then... why are you looking after them?"

"Mother... likes to drink."

"Ohh."

"yeah."

"I see. So she just goes out and drinks all day? leaves you alone with them?"

"Pretty much, sometimes she's here just... hungover as all hell."

"So you do... everything I guess?"

"cook. clean. baths. bed. back and forth to school."

"I'm surprised you didn't crack sooner..."

"Well, sink or swim I guess."

"I suppose so, still school gives you some break time I guess."

"I wish, got to go to work while they're at school, and Olivia isn't old enough yet."

"Hold up- You work?"

"Yes."

"You have a job! on top of basically full-time caring for four kids?"

"Yes."

"what do you do?"

"Tailor's assistant in town, I run the old machine in the back doing alterations."

"Ohh my god- that's a tough busy job. You work quickly in there."

"We do, two days or less for your garment to impress he really likes that motto." 

"I know, I got this repaired in like a day last time I got a rip in it," he said looking at his shirt,

"Yeah I think I remember it," I laughed looking at the familiar shirt, "Yeah, I was going fast the seam is crooked," I laughed 

"Ohh? I never looked that closely at it." He laughed, "How many hours do you work?"

"Eight hours a day seven days a week." 

"Holy- no wonder you're running yourself ragged. I'm a doctor and I don't work that much!"

"Well, I'm the only income coming in, got six mouths to feed."

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"I am."

"You are. That is insane, and the fact you do it with such grace. It's astonishing."

"Thank you," I blushed. 

"If I may be so bold, If you need an extra pair of hands, and you do. I'm more than happy to come help."

"I couldn't ask you to do that,"

"You're not asking me, I'm asking you. You're only going to get worse unless you lighten your load, and all although panic attacks are best just ridden out... they can cause serious damage." He explained, "I want to help, even if its just little things. I can take one job off you a day, or take them for an hour and go play in the garden just, something to lighten your load a little."

"You'd really do that?"

"I would,"

"Why?"

"Becuase you need help, and as a doctor, I can't stop myself from helping those who need it. and right now... you need it more than anyone."

"Thank you Jack," I smiled leaning my head on his shoulder,

"You're welcome Y/n" He smiled, kissing my head. "Now, how about you look after them I'll get dinner on?"

"It's a deal."

"Good girl, What uhh... what am I cooking?"

"Soup,"

"Soup?"

"Yeah,"

"What kind of soup?"

"Leek soup." 

"Just leek soup? you have any bread for it?"

"No."

"Okay, new plan you wait here and look after them I will get dinner as my treat."

"I can't ask you to-"

"No. No. I'm doing it. at very least getting bread if nothing else,"

"Alright."

"Good, I'll see you as soon as I can." he smiled kissing my cheek before he took his stuff and headed back toward town. 

#tbs imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #thea #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #artful dodger #the artful dodger

[icedmetaltea]

(tw: scissors, needles)

Pov: you get your friendship bracelet from Moon cut off :( (no literally that's the plot I'm not even joking)

Reblogs greatly appreciated!

Not his official outfit! I've since then made an actual design I like for him and will post that once I finish Moon's :> BUT I liked this pic and didn't feel like redrawing so gonna just have to deal

Details abt this one bc I feel like oversharing and have nothing better to do

. Y/n is a socially anxious nighttime security guard. They have no friends + are mega depressed + self-conscious and hide their face behind a pair of sunglasses even at night + chubby bc I SAY SO. Started a fic with them a long while ago but deleted it cause depression, they liiiiive

. Sun has access to a sewing machine (terrible idea on staff's part btw) in the crafting room and is obsessed with sewing costumes, needles, sewing scissors, that kinda thing bc of course he is. His outfit has degraded over the years so he tries to put it back together with random scraps of red fabric. He has a bunch of needles on his lil waist thing for easy access

. The daycare is actually shut down and has been for a long time, but y/n doesn't know that since they only see it at night. Sun has gone stir crazy without kids to take care of and spends his day making costumes and other crafts, preparing for children to arrive... even though they never will.

. Moon is dormant most of the time bc Sun keeps the lights whenever possible; he's very passive and sweet, and will tell bedtime stories to plushies as a way to cope with the loneliness. He's kind of aware Sun's gone batshit but can't really be bothered to do anything about it, at least not till he gets to know y/n better

I'm not sure if they're separate animatronics and Moon just goes offline when the lights are off cause like I'm prolly gonna give him a different outfit so

. Basic story idea: Y/n is doing one of their night shifts and gets a noise notification coming from the daycare. Since they never got the memo about it being closed down, they assume there's a break in and goes to check it out. Sun is nervous as shit when the two encounter each other, way out of practice with socializing, but quickly warms up and decides he must become their best friend at any cost. Y/n on the other hand is awkward as hell and doesn't know how to act around him. Sun makes as many efforts to lure them into the daycare as possible, and slowly becomes more and more obsessive, going so far as to hack into the webcam of their laptop, the security cams to see what they can see, watching them at the start and ends of shifts to make sure they don't interact with anyone else

Just as y/n begrudgingly starts to warm up to him, the power goes out and they meet Moon for the first time. They have this rlly wholesome plushie bedtime story scene but Moon soon lets slip about the daycare being closed-

Y/n starts to realize some shit is going on and confronts Sun about it but at this point he's way too cheery around them and is always dancing around them and showing them his latest sewing creations... so instead they begin turning off the lights manually every night at set times, telling Sun it's for "routine maintenance" or something but really it's to get more info out of Moon

Perhaps Moon starts to become a lil protective of them too~ They are after all a lot better of a listener than any plushie...

At this point they're both fiercely protective/possessive of y/n and don't want them being friends with anyone else. Cue jealousy and the two fighting for their attention~

At some point or another Moon makes them a friendship bracelet since he knows that'll get to Sun since he likes them so much, and also to mark Y/n as his

Sun finds it the next day, grabs a pair of sewing scissors and cuts it off in his first display of outright anger

Beyond that?? No clue 🥲

I feel compelled to refer to this ver of him as Pincushion...

#inverted au #Metaltea rambles #yandere #tw yandere #tw scissors #tw needles #scissors #needles #just to be safe

[rayshippouuchiha]

Alrighty! Please excuse the poor lighting.

Behold!

There was a sale of Bernat Baby Blanket yarn in the Dappled ombres so I bought 3 skeins of 4 colors and the last skein of the blue. The aqua blanket is a diagonal granny stitch, the pink is the classic granny stitch, the yellow is a C2C (corner-to-corner) stitch, and the purple is a simple V stitch. They all have a single crochet stitch in however many rows needed to get the blankets to a similar size. The void photo-bombing is my youngest boy, Wilson. The blue blanket is in the Alpine stitch, which I love love love! Especially in the fluffy blanket, chenille, and velvet yarns. The duck I made with leftover purple yarn to test out a newly bought pattern for a commission from my husband's coworker. I'm planning to make more coordinating ducks for the other 3 blankets.

I finished this blanket during a weekend trip up to NY with a side trip to CT with my mother to visit family. We drove, so I had a lot of time on my hands to work on this. I included a close up of the yarn so you can see the colors better. My mom so loved the yarn too, I gave her the reminder of the last skein. She's got plans now. The yarn, which is acrylic medium weight, has been in my hoard since A.C. Moore closed. I'm trying to use up some yarn before buying any more.

I have another one almost done in blue, aqua, and lime green also Bernat Baby Blanket yarn. It's not done yet since I need to sew another liner in the shape of a ball and stuff it with polyfil to make it machine washer friendly. The pattern is from Moogly's squish line and can be found on her blog and YouTube channel.

Give me a sec and I'll share photos of the two projects on my hook currently. I just learned there's a 10 image limit per post.😆

holy fucking hell babe. All of these are so goddamn gorgeous and the octopus?? to die for. seriously never let anyone tell you that you're not making art cause goddamn

#RayRambles

[lionasvault]

puppy and lamb love to quilt.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

pup learned the skill all by herself !! maybe she followed a couple of those awful youtube tutorials from 2016 that caused her to break a few of her sewing machine needles. but, she got the hang of it after a couple weeks.

she has this sad old sewing machine from her grandma that she has propped up on this low folding table in the corner of her bedroom, and a short bar stool that she can easily push under it for more storage space.

she usually makes her quilts out of jonbee's old clothes, especially the ones that get ripped and torn. she hates wasting clothes, particularly ones that still have the faint smell of him, so she incorporates them into her pieces of scrap fabric.

she never plans out her quilts. she doesn't care how bad they look in the end -- the jumbled patterns and colors, different textured fabric -- because at least the quilt works, right? besides, jonbee loves them no matter what.

. ⊹ ₊ ݁.⊹ . ݁

"look!" she giggles, softly waving the heavy quilt in front of john b's face. "i finished the quilt!" this is her first ever quilt -- and you can definitely tell; the uneven stitching, gaps in places, and the filling almost spilling out -- but even with all of that, she's so proud of herself.

"wow pup, that's very nice," he says, his hands resting on his hips as he appreciates the work she's put into this quilt of his old jeans, ugly dad shirts, and boxers.

he gives a small dad nod of approval, patting pup on her head before giving her a soft forehead kiss.

the following nights, he gets the best sleep of his life laying next to pup under the quilt. no night terrors, nightmares, or stirring.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

on the completely opposite side - lamb. she was taught from when she was younger how to quilt by her mom. growing up religious, those traditional gender roles were burned into her by family.

she hangs out with pope quietly when she works, maybe he reads while she gets into the zone. they never talk, only the sounds of the sewing machine and her soft sighs when she messes up a stitch.

she's so high strung that even this relaxing hobby gets torn into it. her designs are thought out for weeks. intricate stitching designs, pretty fabrics, and soft undersides. it has to be perfect - otherwise she can't stand to use it.

. ⊹ ₊ ݁.⊹ . ݁

lamb and pope sit quietly in her room, the slight sun peeking through the windows. pope is reading some nerdy book, his nose slightly scrunched as he tries to read the long paragraphs.

lamb has her back hunched and eyebrows furrowed as she focuses on sewing, working on a new quilt. she's shakey today, messing up every two seconds. eventually, frustration takes over. she starts crying silently, her stomach aching and her face growing warm.

pope looks up from his book when he doesn't hear the sewing machine for a good minute, seeing lamb crying with her hair all messy. he holds her in his arms as she cries.

"oh, honey- you need it to be perfect for me? no- no, sweetie, i don't care if it's perfect. I'll love whatever you make, hear me? yes? okay, good. now, let's calm down, okay?"

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

based on my and @starfxkr's discussion! credit to her for some of these ideas

#puppy!reader #lamb!reader #john b prompt #pope heyward prompt

[applejuicebegood]

HELLO!!! It is I! I’ve been thinking… if you’d be able to do an Irish!fem!reader who has all these Irish dancing trophies and the little dresses and shoes from when she was small, cuz I still do 😭, and reader gets so embarrassed because she can’t do it anymore and the boys insist on doing the walls of limerick with her!!!! Thank you!!!!

Platonic!141 x Reader - Sweet Music

Fem!Reader

A/N: OK, I am actually so fucking sorry this took forever. I was caught up with mock exams but they are over! And I shall be writing more! I had alot of fun writing this even tho I didn't do ur ask justice. I really hope that you enjoy it tho Teddy! Thank you for being the actual best and being so patient and kind! Masterlist

Cw: Brief mentions of alcohol, Reader has a dog Word Count: 1624

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

‘You got the last box?’ 

‘Yea.. yes! Don’t worry’ You struggled to grip the dusty cardboard against your body, your foot catching your ankle on the last step of the attic later. Earlier that day, you had asked Kyle to help with the daunting task of breaking open your sealed off attic and clearing it for storage of your military gear. Getting rid of whatever your mother had decided what was best to collect and hoard before she left. You both were able to clear out the majority of the space that afternoon, choking on the kicked up dust and cobwebs. You had piled the boxes in your living room, circling your couch and chairs. You dog, Jax, strutted around the constructed towers, cautiously bending his head to sniff the stale cardboard. As you huffed the final box atop a stack that was starting to bleed into your kitchen, both you and Gaz admired your efforts with your hands resting on your hips. ‘You wanna crack em’ open?’ ‘Let me get the wine first’ You could hear Kyle snicker behind you as you made your way to the kitchen. Returning with two glasses and one of your more expensive bottles of chilled red in hand, you settled yourself on the carpeted floor. Your head resting against the seated cushion of the couch. You handed Gaz the bottles and glasses and in trade he handed you a box cutter. The echo of the wine filling the glasses was drowned by the blade of your knife ripping through the packaging tape lining the top of the box settled in front of you. Gaz did the same with a pair of kitchen scissors. You took a generous swig of your glass before diving your hands into the brown packing paper. Jax had settled his head on Kyle’s thighs, watching him unwrap a picture frame, starting a pile of garbage packing paper to be burned in your wood stove. ‘Oh-hoo.. What’s this?’ You lifted your head from the unwrapped shot-glasses to see that Gaz held a small rusted golden plaque in his hands. Your name scrawled in chipped cursive across the bottom of the frame. ‘Holy, haven’t seen that in forever. This must be my old dancing stuff’ ‘Wha- you did dance?’ ‘Surprised are you? Mom signed me up for it to get me outta the house.. I only continued with it cause’ Nan wanted me to get closer to my “gaelic roots” as she put it’ 

You scooted over to sit next to him, your hand instinctively finding Jax’s ears to scratch behind. You reached into the box and pulled out a bound pile of plaid. Undoing the twine, you unfolded a deep green plaid skirt, the seam stitched golden by your grandmother's hand. You ran your fingers down the trailing glint, it was as if you could feel your grandmother's touch holding down the fabric as she delicately thred it through her sewing machine. You could hear her sighs and coo’s of approval as you stumbled out of your bedroom, wearing the skirt for the first time. ‘So! Keep or give away?’ Kyle said before taking a swig of his own wine. He pulled another box closer to him, a small cloud of dust kicking up from his scissors gilding across the cardboard. 

‘Keep for now, might get rid of the trophies but I can gives the dresses to Emi’ ‘She’d really like that’ Kyle said smiling back at you, his rich chocolate eyes highlighted in the early evening sun. You held the small dress close to your chest for a moment before setting it beside you, in the now ‘keep’ pile. 

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

You could feel the cold of the metal seat through the lining of your tactical pants. The weight of your combat vest held you down against the bench. It was cold, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and salt. The warm brush of your lieutenant's arm against the side of yours was the only thing reminding you that there would be a bed and a warm meal to hopefully return too after this mission. It was just you and Simon on the installed benches in the transport plane, the rest of the squad just offloading moments before. ‘Leave is com’in up.. plans?’  Simon's thick, graveled baritone cut through your coms, bringing you back into the familiar state of heightened awareness. 

‘Oh.. umm.. Just gunna head back home.. Emi has a dance recital ‘week before Christmas and Mari wants me to drive her north for a weekend with her girlfriend, I told her no but she’s been begging me over the phone so-’ ‘Friends?’ Simon asked, looking over at you. You glanced up at his eyes, darkened and blood-shot. The deep onset of the pale skull mask making them appear blended into the dirtied black fabric of the hood. ‘No.. my sisters, I thought I told you- hold on’ You smiled as you reached around and dug out from a small back pocket in your vest a chipped golden photo case. Excitement brewed within you at the chance to discuss your little family. Clicking it open and holding it up for Simon, he held it between his large gloved fingers. You focused back on his eyes, watching as they looked over the photos set into the sides of the case. The first being a blurred still of Mari holding your infant sister a few days after she was born. You were able to catch her mid laugh, her smile drawn tight, deepening her dimpled cheeks. Emi was swaddled in her lap, her soft chubby cheeks poking out from the quilted blanket she was wrapped in. The second photo was an old-black and white still of your grandmother when she was younger, her hair swooped elegantly over her forehead. It was the same photo that was kept in your grandfather's wallet, given to you after he passed. Behind it was a small swath of deep green plaid fabric. Simon ran his thumb over the black crossing lines, looking back to you with confusion. ‘Oh.. that umm.. Was a piece of one of my dancing dresses.. Nan made them for me and.. I don’t know, keeping it with me is a sort of reminder I guess’ You say taking the golden frame back from him, shutting it with a click. You rubbed your thumb over the scratches and dents in the metal, a testament to the many trips the case took with you throughout your multiple deployments and missions. ‘Dancing?’ ‘Ha… yea.. Mom umm.. She had me do it throughout primary’ ‘I.. wasn’t expecting that..’ Simon mumbles, shifting on the metal bench. ‘What? Do I not look like a child dance prodigy?’ You say, nudging his arm with your elbow. ‘No just… god.. cannot picture you.. I mean-’ You tried to hold back the ripple of amusement from your lips, watching the metaphorical gears turn in Simon's head. He quickly glanced back at you, confirming your clear enjoyment in his confusion. You leaned your head back against the metal wall, thumbing the photo case before tucking it back into the pocket of your vest. It was within these small moments of reprieve from tactical expectations that you wished you could put Simon, and the rest of your team's photo within the case alongside your sisters. 

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish 

‘Johnny! Food’s here!’ You call up from your living room, placing the hot paper bags on the low coffee table. You expected to hear his harsh footsteps down the creaking wooden stairs. Yet, only the sound of the dimmed slow piano crackling from your record player and the high-pitched thrum of late evening summer crickets filled the air. ‘Johnny!’ You shouted, unpacking the food. ‘Where..? God..’ You groaned, looking towards the hallway stairwell. You trudged up the stairs, two at a time. Your feet bouncing down the carpeted hallway, the dark glow of the evening sunset casting a dim glow from the hallway window. ‘John..?’ You said, poking your head into one of the spare bedrooms. ‘In here!’ Relief broke in your chest like the shell of an egg as you heard your sergeant's rough voice from your bedroom. You hadn’t been able to yet undo the familiar anxiety that comes with the lack of response from your teammates, an anxiety bred from being their stand-by medic. 

You pushed open your bedroom door, the hinges squeaking. You had stopped using this room as yours a long time ago. It was now more a storage shed for your sister's old clothes and your military gear. You found John standing by an old dresser, dusty plaques and trophies covering the top of the mahogany wood. You watched as John held one of the frames in his large scarred hand. ‘What did ya find?’ You ask, standing by his shoulder while stuffing your hands in your pockets. ‘You should've told me you did dance’ He said, placing the frame back down. The picture he was looking at was an old, sunbleached still of you as a child, standing in a plaid dress next to your grandmother who was holding your then infant sister. Your smile held a few dark spots as you had just started losing your baby teeth.

‘Why’s that?’ You say, picking up another photo, you used the sleeve of your sweater to rub the dust from the shiny metal frame. ‘Well because my gran’ forced me into it too’ ‘Shut up’ You say, placing the cleaned frame back down with a thump. ‘Im serious, once we fly up with Roach, me’ sister’ll show you the photos’ ‘That is.. I never would have guessed’ ‘Can say the same thing for you Bonnie’ 

#141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #task force 141 #tf 141 #mw2 141 #cod #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mwf2 #john price #kyle garrick #gaz #gaz x y/n #gaz x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #mw2 #john mactavish

[gloomy0x0phantom]

Dracule Mihawk - Five Headcanons

『 01 』 S C A R

Mihawk's back is marked by a unique deep scar. In his youth, before becoming the strongest swordsman, Mihawk made a fatal mistake that brought him his biggest shame. He underestimated an enemy, miscalculated a move and ended up with a scar. It starts on his left shoulder blade and ends at the top of his right thigh. Fortunately for him, the blow wasn't fatal, but his ego was gravely affected.

Like all swordsmen, Mihawk considers an unmarked back to be a sign of strength. He intended to protect this part of his body until his death, but ultimately failed. When he felt the blade slice through his skin, but his heart continued to beat, a feeling of failure stronger than death set in. He didn't cry, he didn't scream, he just let the blood fall.

This scar is his biggest secret and, to this day, no one has discovered it. Cautious and calculating by nature, Mihawk is even more so towards his back. When he leaves his home, he always wears his usual coat and never takes it off. When he stays at his castle, Mihawk opts for light sweaters, but never see-through. He takes great care with the fabric of his tops, testing them in the sun and water before considering adding them to his wardrobe. Before the arrival of Perona and Zoro, Mihawk used to allow himself to sleep shirtless, but when the ghost princess came into his life, he had to change this habit.

Mihawk is the best swordsman in the world, and tons of people want to challenge him and take his title, but not a single one is aware that the man lives with a swordsman's greatest shame on himself. Sometimes nightmares invade his sleep to show him what his life would be like if the whole planet learned his secret. The nights he wakes up in a sweat are the worst, and he feels even more pathetic for dreaming such a reality.

『 02 』 S E W I N G

It's a hidden talent that's not really a secret: Mihawk can sew. It's something he learned as a child and came in very handy when he started training with real swords. Little Mihawk mended his own clothes and never asked anyone for help. Unfortunately, the older he got, the more skilled he became with his sword, so there was no longer any reason to patch up damaged garments. So he learned to embroider. Mihawk has always had a keen eye for fashion, especially elegant, high-quality clothing. He didn't always have the money to afford beautiful embroidered capes and shirts, so he learned to make them himself.

Sewing is an activity that allows him to relax after a long day's work. He sits in his living room by the fire, a glass of wine at hand and a sewing project on his lap. This knowledge has allowed him to develop a special bond with Perona, who loves designing her own clothes but isn't particularly handy with needles. He spent many hours training Zoro in sword fighting and Perona in sewing. Mihawk even bought a sewing machine for the Ghost Princess's birthday.

Mihawk will never say it out loud, but he loves the evenings when the trio are together in the living room. Only the crackling of the fire and Zoro's snoring are heard, Perona is concentrating on reading or pursuing a project, while Mihawk sips wine and mends his apprentice's clothes.

『 03 』 M I R R O R S

Imagine living alone in a huge castle on an abandoned island. There are strange noises, huge monkeys fighting in the forest and the days feel like nights. You're so used to being alone, you can't help but jump when you pass a mirror. And that's exactly Mihawk's daily routine. He's lost count of the number of times his reflection has caused him a minor panic attack.

Mihawk is used to being the only resident of Kuraigana Island, so when he walks and suddenly sees a silhouette in his line of vision, his body reacts as if an enemy is approaching. He's broken so many mirrors since arriving on the island that he's convinced he's surpassed 100 years of misfortune. It's a trivial anecdote for most, but for the swordsman, it's no laughing matter.

Following the arrival of Perona and Zoro, Mihawk has calmed down a little, but the ghost princess manages to cause him a few scares, especially when she decides to go through a mirror. Zoro is constantly getting lost, so Mihawk often finds him in particular places, purely by surprise. The two helped him get rid of his silly fear of mirrors.

『 04 』 R O M A N I A N

Mihawk have no patience for stubborn individuals with sensitive egos, and unfortunately, this world is full of them. In his younger days, the swordsman didn't hesitate to throw insults and respond to pointless fights, but the older he got, the more he found a much more effective method of winning those battles: speaking in his native tongue.

As soon as someone bothers him, Mihawk will start speaking in Romanian to piss them off in return. This method is very effective with Shanks and Buggy. He takes great pleasure in answering them in a language they don't understand. Insults, criticism, mockery... the swordsman has no trouble finding words to torment them. Sometimes, he chooses to say sentences that have nothing to do with the conversation, such as: "The sky is beautiful today", "I ate an apple this morning", "That sweater looks great on you, but since you don't understand me, you'll never know". It's very amusing and works every time. Buggy loses his head completely when Mihawk speaks in Romanian, because one, it's very charming, and two, it royally pisses him off! Shanks is much more used to it and has taken the time to learn a few phrases to better understand his arch-enemy.

Mihawk tried once to answer Perona in Romanian when she was annoying him, and it ended very badly when Perona also answered in Romanian and very angrily.

『 05 』 F A C I A L H A I R

When Mihawk decided to grow a beard and mustache, he strategically disappeared for several months, simply because he refused to be seen during the awkward phase. Being seen with a beard full of patches and a mustache reminiscent of a teenager was out of the question. Shanks would never forget that. He'd rather die than be seen in an unattractive state.

His absence gave rise to several rumors, with the most widespread being: Mihawk is dead. The swordsman surprised many when he returned even stronger and looked more elegant and mature. When Shanks encountered him again, he was flabbergasted by the change. He immediately pointed a finger at his rival's face and shouted, "Since when do you have a beard and a mustache!?" To mess with the redhead, Mihawk replied that he didn't know what he was talking about. He was secretly pleased when the Red Hair Pirates started gaslighting their captain, telling him that Mihawk always looked like that. Shanks dropped the subject because every time he talks about it, he sounds like a madman. “I SWEAR HE DIDN'T HAVE A BEARD!”

#dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk headcanons #one piece #one piece headcanons #headcanons

[accio-victuuri]

From this article about One & Only “The "easter eggs" that are not on the screen of "One and Only" are here”

Recently, Entertainment Studio talked to "One and Only" director Dapeng and starring Huang Bo, and shared the stories behind the scenes of 10 movies with everyone here.

"Passionate" is an adjective that is aptly used to describe the newly released movie "One and Only".

This movie focusing on street dance is dazzling, and the last 20 minutes of the national competition are especially hearty, making people's palms sweat;

Outside the shoot, every member of the "One and Only" crew is doing their best for the cause they love, and the soul of the group is burning. Dapeng took the main creator to run desperately across the country, dancing in amusement parks, singing at barbecue stalls, checking tickets in movie theaters, handing out posters in frog suits under the scorching sun, riding bicycles for publicity, taking trains for publicity, and promoting at scenic spots... Wang Yibo fell ill and returned to the team after only two days of rest to continue the roadshow. Like Chen Shuo in the film, everyone is desperate to give, just to get closer to their dreams, and their warm emotions are constantly transmitted to more audiences.

"One and Only" is a film project born under the trend of the times to break prejudice.

"After the release of "Sewing Machine Band", the business of many local piano shops began to improve, because there were many children who went to learn musical instruments. This "One and Only" also carries the blessing of the entire Chinese street dance circle, from the preparation stage to the end of the shooting, the street dance circle is looking forward to and blessing this movie, I believe that this movie will definitely usher in a peak of rapid development of Chinese street dance after its release. They may be children and parents, or they may be people who have been prejudiced against street dance, but they will all fall in love with street dance and the people in the story. Dapeng said.

The best candidate for Bboy

In order to understand the real street dance culture, Dapeng did a lot of homework.

He watched street dance movies all over the world, and interviewed a large number of street dancers of different ages in various cities across the country, from three to forty and fifty years old. In April 2021, during the preparation of "One and Only" and before the start of "Keep You Safe", Dapeng asked all the Bboys he knew the same question-

"If I'm looking for someone to play Bboy, he has to be a well-known actor, he has to be able to act and dance at the same time, and his temperament can be recognized by the Bboy community, who should I go to?"

Dapeng got a unified answer, Wang Yibo.

At that time, Dapeng did not know Wang Yibo, he did not even have a script, and he met Yibo nervously through the brokerage company. In order to prevent his expression from being in place, Dapeng also wrote a letter in advance and handed it to Yibo.

Later, Dapeng received a reply from Wang Yibo and wrote a lot of words. Wang Yibo said that he is very happy to be invited to play this role, street dance and movies are his passion, so doing this thing is a superposition of love. He agreed to star in "One and Only".

With a specific object, the film began to enter a stage of rapid progress. Screenwriter Su Biao printed a photo of Wang Yibo and pasted it above the table, looked at his photo every day, and began to write the script.

The script grows from the double BO

The earliest "One and Only" stories tried different directions. At the beginning, the main line is the relationship between mother and son, about how a mother raises her children, and the "exclamation point" is actually derived from a plot in the early version of the script. When Chen Shuo was young, his mother took him to choose his favorite extracurricular class, and if he didn't learn well, he would put a cross or question mark, and only the street dance chosen by Xiao Chen Shuo himself was given an exclamation point. The exclamation point became a small code word between mother and son, and Chen Shuo finally used it on the stage of the national competition.

In the process of the development of the script, they want to write how Chen Shuo is getting stronger and stronger, then he must have a good coach. The coach's line is getting fuller and fuller, and slowly becomes the protagonist.

At the same time, Dapeng they are going to start looking for actors. An OG who can dance, his acting skills are also brilliant, and the only thing Dapeng can think of is Huang Bo. He had shown every script to Huang Bo before, but he didn't find a suitable opportunity for cooperation, but he didn't expect that Huang Bo agreed very happily this time.

"Brother Bo told me that he could finish his last job within a time frame and have a whole block of time to shoot "One and Only", which scared me. Because it is not even a complete script, only the outline of the story. He seemed to have been waiting for the role, and the invitation process went smoothly beyond my own imagination. Dapeng said.

"So we have the double BO combination. We project our impression of them into the script, maybe you can see that there is a part of Huang Bo's shadow on the characters, and there is a growth trajectory of Yibo, that is because these two characters can be said to be tailored for Huang Bo and Yibo, and the story is grown from them.

This time is different from my previous creative path, I used to write one draft, two drafts and three drafts of the script, and even the punctuation marks I felt very satisfied with before I went to find an actor, but in the end it didn't work, and I acted by myself. "One and Only" was unexpectedly smooth, and it was the most efficient film I created. ”

Chen Shuo and his mother

In the final film, the line between Chen Shuo and his mother was compressed, but it was still the biggest crying point.

"The two of them are still a bit alike, did you feel it?" Dapeng laughed.

Liu Mintao and Wang Yibo each did their homework for the role, and the first rivalry scene they wanted to shoot was the scene where Chen Shuo rushed to the wedding scene to find that it was his mother singing on stage, and he couldn't help but burst into tears.

The crew spent a while to set up the studio scene for the filming of this scene, and ran in a group of extras. As soon as the shout began, Liu Mintao and Wang Yibo quickly entered the situation, and both of them shed tears from their hearts.

Dapeng in front of the monitor was a little confused - a scene that took so much effort to prepare, the result was so easy? He said it would be okay or ... Do it again? But in fact, the first take is used in the end. The two actors have done a lot of homework before this, and their understanding of the characters has been very thorough, realizing the "one take" of this heavy emotional scene.

Uncle's wax figure

Living with them in the film is Chen Shuo's uncle, played by the bald Yue Yunpeng, a character with few scenes but dense laughter.

Because her mother's surname is Du, the team came up with a somewhat nonsensical shop name called "Madame Tussauds Restaurant". There are a lot of wax figures in the store, and authorization is required to shoot wax figures, so the crew first considered Dapeng's friends, Jia Ling, Zhang Xiaofei, Yang Di, Li Xueqin, etc., and also thought of world-class celebrity images such as Monkey King, Einstein, Bruce Lee, and Tyson.

Yang Di not only has wax figures, but he himself also came to play a moving wax figure in a nightmare, which is scary and funny. Li Xueqin could have had a wax figure in the shape of a female ghost in "Keep You Safe", but because it was not sure which of "One and Only" or "Keep You Safe" would be on first, the audience might not get this meme, so they could only remove it first.

"With wax figures and a little bit of my own thinking in it. What kind of people are those who have wax figures, they are all successful people. But my uncle has been sculpting a wax figure of himself, and the closer to the end of the movie, the wax figure becomes more and more complete. If you have a belief in your heart, no matter how ordinary and ordinary people are, you can shape your appearance like your uncle. Dapeng said.

Huang Bo backflipped, Wang Yibo hit closed, and the crew rolled up

For movies dedicated to street dance, the dance part must be burning and fried enough, and it must be able to bring a strong visual and psychological impact to the audience.

Dapeng spent a long time researching how to make street dance look better, he organized a group of dancers to the studio to test shoot, try various equipment and mirror movement, and also hired a new editing director, Zhang Yibo, who had cut "Young You", to cut the dance part, because Zhang Yibo himself is also a dancer.

Most of the members of the exclamation point are real-life top dancers, each specializing in different dances. Between "let professional actors learn to dance" and "ask professional dancers to perform", he chose the latter in order to save the dance. But I didn't expect that the dancers' performances in the final film were also very good, because most of the time Dapeng let them "play themselves", eating the hot pot scene, everyone talked about why they wanted to dance, which is the true voice of the dancers themselves.

And the two leading actors, Huang Bo and Wang Yibo, both showed the highest professionalism and did their best to exceed the required dance moves. In the original script, there was no Ding Lei on the scene, but Huang Bo felt that since he came, it was difficult to jump again. Wang Yibo also strives to jump to perfection every time, and finally jumps with closure.

"Yibo and Brother Bo are very serious, so serious that I don't think it's necessary, for example, Brother Bo has a flip, in fact, you can do it with a stand-in, and you can't see it, but he must do it himself. Spirits can infect each other, there is a competitive atmosphere in the crew, you want to do a backflip by yourself, what should others do?

For the last street dance competition, we filmed at the Hangzhou Olympic Sports Center for 10 days, and the shooting intensity was very large. The movie is cut shot by shot, but the actors can't jump only part of it, the movements are coherent, so jumping over and over again is a test of everyone's physical endurance.

On the penultimate days of filming, they told me that Chen Shuo (Wang Yibo) had an uncomfortable ankle, but he didn't tell me that I only learned about it after several people. Although there was a team doctor on the scene every day, I told Yibo at that time that the movie is edited, and it doesn't matter if a certain time you dance is not so perfect, as long as a few moments are good, and then we can make up for it through other angles.

But he just has to be good from beginning to end, he is too demanding of himself. On the last day, he should have filmed the scene in a closed position.

In order to live up to his efforts, in the end, in the choice of editing, you can go to watch, I try my best to ensure that his performance is a complete camera, not cut. ”

An avid group performer

Dapeng used to watch many group performances in film and television dramas, such as a group of reporters mechanically pressing the camera shutter, and a group of wooden audiences under the concert stage, they would feel very dramatic. The main creator may pay more attention to the protagonist, and the supporting role is just a human flesh background board. This time filming "One and Only", Dapeng felt that the atmosphere creation of the competition scene was the top priority, and it was the key point for the audience to have a sense of presence and thus believe in the story.

No matter how big the scene, Dapeng requires every group audience in the audience to react with passion and commitment.

"Every day I try everything to liven up the atmosphere on the spot," Dapeng said, "The whole voice is dumb, if I can't do it, I will want my sister to go up, and if she can't do it, I will go up to others, and take turns to drive the atmosphere."

One day at 11 p.m., everyone started to get sleepy, and I felt as if the atmosphere was going to fall, so I rushed into the crowd myself. I said, look how I play an avid hip-hop audience. When you go to drive the atmosphere, everyone will be infected by you, and the atmosphere of the game can be more enthusiastic. ”

Dapeng, who did not star in his own movie for the first time, played a fanatical live audience, and he also set his "black photo" as a Weibo avatar

Prepare the last scene as if it were a movie

The last 20 minutes of the hip-hop competition were constantly reversed, and the climax was stacked, and wave after wave raised the atmosphere. How was this scene designed?

"We prepared the last scene as a movie. Although it is an action scene, it also takes on a lot of narrative functions, so that the game is always in suspense, there are constant reversals and accidents, and each round has ups and downs. Before filming this competition, our crew stopped work for a few days, and there were meetings every day, and various departments coordinated how to shoot this game.

Fortunately, we have the best dancers in China, the best dance consultants, the members of the coaching staff of the national team, and they give a lot of ideas. For example, someone was injured on the spot, how to persist with the injury, and impress the judges with spirit, such as the music suddenly stopped, the team's creativity..."

In the end, the exclamation point won satisfactory results with the comprehensive strength of the dance company, Chen Shuo's personal efforts, on-the-spot adaptability, team soul and creativity, etc., and I believe that it will definitely bring unexpected surprises to the audience.

Making a movie is very simple, it is a group of people who go all out for one thing

Chen Shuo in the play and Dapeng outside the play are both inspirational examples of struggle.

Recently, Dapeng turned out an old photo, which was a photo of his back with Wang Yibo at an event in Sina when he first stepped into the film industry nine years ago. At that time, he must not have imagined that one day they would collaborate on a movie.

In the ten days we filmed the National Street Dance Competition, every day burned to the fullest. About one day at the end of work, I found a room, and when there was no one, I cried there myself. It's not sad, it's reluctant to finish filming this scene. Even if this group of people gathers at another event in the future, it is not the feeling at this moment, and I miss the time I spent together. ”

"I thought later, maybe that's why I prefer to make movies. Life is hard, but making a movie is much simpler because it's simple, and everyone is desperately trying to give it their all for one thing.

Have you noticed that Yibo has become more smiling in this crew? Because that's what a twenty-four-five-year-old young man should look like, but he is Wang Yibo, and I know the pressure he faces, so in the crew, I try to make him find more security and trust. I believe that he was also very engaged and happy not to talk about the outcome of the final movie, but only about the summer they experienced together. ”

"This time I am also immersed in the directing work, I hope that this film can have a breakthrough in my career, because it is different, with such a powerful Bo Ge, Yibo, and such a group of the best Chinese dancers, everyone likes actors, I think it will become my best work so far." Dapeng said.

As the exclamation point recruitment slogan writes, "Keep working hard and you'll succeed!" This sentence is also true for each of the creators of Dapeng and "One and Only".

( Note : I removed some parts and paragraphs that focus more on DP and his past works. what is left here is about the movie, wyb and chen shuo. )

#wang yibo #one and only movie #accio victuuri translation #THIS IS A REALLY GOOD INTERVIEW FOR THE IDEAS BEHIND THE FILM #and omg the scriptwriter with yibo’s photo as the inspiration lol #there is no one in chinese internal entertainment industry who could have starred in this movie — only wang yibo!!!!!

[delirious-donna]

I cant stop thinking about Mitsuya still flirting with you even though you've been together for many years already. Like, he's a god at flirting and he's so smooth with it💘

Oh my God, yes! YES!!! Mitsuya is ridiculously underrated and it’s fucking criminal cause he is just so perfect 😭 I'm just gonna claim him as my husband... there, I've said it, it's law now!

~

“Hey there, pretty girl. You waiting for someone?”

Your eyes slide to the tall male making his way towards you after kicking off his shoes at the door. He appears tired but you watch his eyes visibly brighten as he looks you over.

Mitsuya sinks into the kitchen stool next to you, leaning his face on his fist and turning his body towards you. He always makes your heart beat faster, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbows, the tails slightly untucked from his pants and his glasses still perched upon his nose.

How times had changed since you met him all those years; his hair was longer, his dress sense more comfortable for the long hours he spent hunched over a sketch pad or at his sewing machine and his features had mellowed into the handsome man that sat before you.

“Taka… you know I’ve been waiting for you,” you reply with a little giggle at how ridiculous your husband was acting.

He hums appreciatively and your spine stiffens as you feel his gaze strip you mentally. His sharp teeth tug on his lower lip, a smirk lighting up his face even more.

“That right? You got a man in your life? Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be left alone for even a minute,” he teases. His warm hand slips atop your thigh and you bloom under his flirtatious praise.

Dressed in sweats and one of his oversized shirts, Takashi makes you feel like you’re dressed in your most elegant attire. Heat warms your cheeks, lashes fluttering as you blink much too fast and you decide to play along.

“Yeah, I do actually, and he’d kick your ass for touching me.”

Mitsuya laughs, head thrown back with his mirth but his hand only presses further against your body. A finger inches under the hem of your his shirt and strokes at your midsection, sending shivers racing all over your flesh.

“Sounds like a badass… he treat you right?”

“He is the best man I’ve ever met, and I’ve been very lucky to find him…” you answer honestly.

The smile he gifts you is blinding. Takashi pulls you to him, cupping your face as he studies every inch of you. A chaste kiss finds your lips before he breathes quietly.

“No baby, I’m the lucky one.”

#delirious answers #mitsuya fluff #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #this man is my husband #i’m so soft for him #💘 anon

[toms-cherry-trees]

The One You Never Knew || Shelby! Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby never looked to those beneath him. Not even his youngest sister, the one he never got round to. And time has come for payback

Word Count: 3286

Warnings: Mentions of non canon deaths, murder, violence, swearing (non detailed), Tommy being more of an ass

Author’s note: Does this has potential to become a series? Yes. Do I have the ability for it? No, but we’ll see how this goes. Also you may have noticed I have a thing for making Tommy the bad guy

Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist

Your hands ached. Hours were long in the shop, especially during Social Season, when every fine lady in London sought new frocks and court gowns for their presentations in Buckingham Palace. But also meant more money coming in, and a much welcomed increase in your meagre salary at the end of the week. If you had all the embroidery done before Sunday, you may have time to fix your own clothing. Who knew, perhaps you could get hold of some spare fabrics and make a new summer dress before the heat got unbearable. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, you put down the embroidery frame and straightened up, rubbing your aching back and neck. Sunlight had long disappeared and given way to nighttime. The dim lights in the back room of the dress shop barely helped in breaking the piercing darkness, and you dared not to light the old gas lamps or even candles, fearing a fire. Not because it could cause you any harm to your own health, but if any dress got damaged, you’d have to pay it back with your own salary and the blood from your fingers. 

The clock in the front shop would tick midnight in just five minutes, but there was still work to be done. The other girls had left long ago, their task of cutting and sewing being a hundred times easier with the help of their sewing machines. But they still had not invented a machine capable of embroidering brocades and patterns the way you did. All your hard work was done by hand, working meticulously with your needle and thread, inch by inch to create the exquisite gowns that filled Mrs. Foyle pockets and paid for your dingy flat. 

Half past midnight you had finally locked the front door, keeping the key safely in your pocket alongside a few spare coins and a gun; a rather unorthodox companion for a young lady, but not for a young Shelby. For you were still one, even if you denied it in front of the world. A Shelby by blood but not by family, for there was no family left to be tied to. 

Not after the fall.

Not after your entire family had been filled with lead, all at the same time, on what should have been a joyous Christmas morning. A Christmas Day to celebrate life, and freedom, for not too long ago they had been released from prison, saved by seconds from the drop. Saved by the one who had also been their jailer and now played the part of executioner, albeit involuntarily. 

After that regretful episode, everyone carried on with their lives. Ada travelled to Boston to handle the American branch of the business. John and Arthur moved on with their families each. Polly carried on as best as she could, while Michael drowned in work and snow. Finn lived in Uncle Charlie’s backyard with Isaiah, while you moved to Ada’s home in Primrose Hill to look after everything while she was away. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it worked just fine. They could all carry on pretending to be down one brother, for even the mere mention of his existence left a bitter taste in the mouth and a heavy weight on the pit of the stomach. His name had become taboo, avoided like the plague. 

But per usual, Tommy’s problems had grown big enough to become everyone’s problems. Every wrong step he had taken in the last five years came with retaliation, dragging on and on endlessly like the tail of a never ending snake. It didn’t matter how many ties they cut, or how much distance they put between themselves and him, they always ended up stuck in the fallout. But this time? They didn’t even have time to defend themselves. The warning came too late, and the end came too soon.

But of course Tommy didn’t die, because the Devil looks after his own. He had been the first one to receive the Black Hand, and therefore the only one who managed to get away. In his defence, he tried to round up the others, but it was too late. The Italians came down on the Peaky Blinders like a Biblical plague, and swept them off the map. In the blink of an eye, Arthur, John, Aunt Polly and Ada had been turned into colanders. Michael survived because again, a disaster lasts a millenium, while Finn and you weren’t even considered in the vendetta to begin with. Not that it mattered. They were dead, and you both died a bit with them.

With only two siblings left, Tommy tried to coop you up in Small Heath to keep you within reach, but surely there would be a second intention behind it. Perhaps to shape up the two siblings he never got round to into small versions of the ones he lost. Pick up two defenceless and innocent young ones to do his bidding, since they didn’t have any better option. But he didn’t count with you not budging in. 

Since you were already stationed in London, you had no plan on moving anywhere near Tommy. You couldn’t even bear to set foot in Birmingham, not even for the funerals. Not even to say goodbye to Esme before she hauled all your nephews and nieces into the road with the Lees. Not even to check into your little brother, who surely took the blow worse than you. You dealt with your grief in the same insensitive way the family had drilled into you; push it on the back burner and pretend it is not there. Just wipe your tears and move on with life, forever carrying inside you a burning rage that would never be put out, and try your best to not let it consume you, or you’ll surely lose your mind. 

While Tommy and the Italians chased each other through Small Heath like cats and dogs, you found yourself a job. You didn’t possess many abilities, but you knew enough maths to keep track of money, were decent enough with needle and thread, and wouldn’t shy away from hard labour if it came to it. You decided to start from scratch, sweeping away any link with your previous life. First you began as a cashier in a bakery, which required many long hours standing behind a register. Then you moved on to being a housemaid, an intention which lasted very little, considering your complete inability to adhere to rules that were not your own. For a brief moment you resorted to pickpocketing posh ladies in the train station, but the station master began to get suspicious of you so you had to get away. In the end, in between odd jobs and failed chances, you landed in a dress shop near Primrose Hill, with the same lady who once sold Ada expensive textiles and fancy shoes. She didn’t recognise you, and you prefer it that way.

After you received your first paycheck and rented a shabby flat near Candem Town, you mailed Ada’s house keys to Arrow House, with a very brief and impersonal note to your brother handing back the property to him, as Karl’s guardian, to safekeep it until your nephew was out of age and could claim what was rightfully his. Then you promptly moved on with your life going on with a borrowed surname, (Y/N) Jurossi. 

But of course just by walking away you wouldn’t get away from him. Thomas Shelby never took a no for an answer, nor as a boy nor as an adult. He belived you to be naive, or straight up dumb, but you could see right through him. You knew he knew exactly where you lived, where you worked and where you did the shopping. He knew every Sunday you took a walk through Hyde Park, trying to get in as much fresh air and natural light as possible to last you through the week. At this point, he probably knew how many dresses you had in your closet. 

You knew about him too, unwillingly of course. You knew he had married Lizzie Stark, and now had a baby girl. You knew he had just won a seat in the House of Commons as an MP for South Birmingham, representative of the Labour Party. And you knew the business must have had a lot of money to spare, for the two dumb faced goons who believed themselves to be so sleek and smart, stationed 24/7 near your front door surely must have been costing him a lot of money. 

You thought about him from time to time, unwillingly. Not with fondness, no. Those feelings of unconditional love towards the man who once was like a substitute father had long since dried up. Only a fictional image of him remained perpetual in your memory, with his hands bathed in the blood of your family, while he straightened back his crown. The old Tommy hadn’t died but you killed him in your heart. 

You even went as far as to erase him from the face of the Earth. He had been cut out of every picture you could cut him from, and those who had him front and centre, which were most pictures, had his face covered with a piece of paper stuck to the frame. You had even considered sending back to him even the last penny that Ada ever gave you for maintenance of her house while she lived abroad, since it indirectly came from him, but in all honestly you needed and deserved that kickstart in life. Your payment for putting up with him for 20 years. 

He did try to contact you, plenty of times. Sent letters, called into your workplace, mailed you stacks of bills which you either sent back or gave to charity. But not once he showed up at your door, or invited you to meet him somewhere. Not even in all the time he spent in London working he tried to see you in person. And you knew the reason. He just couldn’t face you, he couldn’t look you in the eye and withstand your judgement. Because he knew he was at fault for everything, and there was no one left to hold him accountable for it. Except you. He didn’t want to be faced with the harsh reality he’d surely find reflected in your eyes. 

But surely one day he’d come to you. Not out of filial love, but out of interest. One day he’d need you for something and he’d recall you back to the whirlwind of disasters he called life, ready to chain you to the bottom. You just didn’t know when.

~

Another late day at work, another midnight walk across town. Nothing out of the ordinary, and you felt quite assured by the gun ever present in your pocket.

But the moment you stood in front of your door, key in hand, something felt wrong. An eerie feeling made the hairs stand on edge on the back of your head. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly the problem; maybe a closed curtain which you swore you left open when you stepped out for work in the morning, or perhaps the plotted plant in which you hid the spare key, which looked a bit rumpled and some of the leaves were on the floor alongside specks of dirt. You swallowed thickly, feeling the saliva in your mouth turn to glue. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the gun, index posed in the trigger as you used your free hand to turn the handle. You bustled into your own home, ready to catch a burglar in. But all you saw was your brother, perched on your sofa and sipping whiskey from one of your chipped glasses. He had a cigarette between his fingers, and his cold eyes scanned the dim room with a hint of mockery.

A groan escaped from the depths of your throat as you lowered your gun and kicked your door closed. Thomas surely had a complete and abysmal disregard for appropriate social conduct. 

“Hello, brother” You didn’t try to sound angry, not even annoyed. Your voice remained cold and formal, as if you were merely addressing a stranger on the street. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching the nearly empty cheap whiskey on the table before him “Do you want a drink?” Now the mockery was obvious.

“Do you call this shit whiskey?” He smacked his lips and set the glass down, wiping his mouth in the back of his hand.

“Economy is shit, money is tight”

“Economy is shit for those who just settle for what they have”

It took every fibre of your being to not roll back your eyes and reply with a snarky remark. Those types of subtleties did nothing to his iron shell “Why are you here exactly? Inside my apartment from all places”

“You need better security. The key in the plant is very 19th century” He tossed your spare key into the table, the heavy piece of rusty metal landing with a dry thud. You snorted, shaking your head. Why would you need more security? There was nothing in the apartment worth stealing, and the two thugs by the entrance would surely scare away any potential criminals. 

“What do you want, Thomas?”

“I have a proposition”

“Of course you do”  Just like that, all your predictions came true at once. The Sun King came to pick up his spare pawn for his immaculate chess game, since he had already lost all his rooks and bishops and even the Queen. Guarded by lower pieces but unable to make a move.

“The thing is, Shelby Company Limited keeps growing exponentially, and we need more people like you”

“Like me? Do you need a seamstress? I thought your suits were imported”

“Young” Tommy pulled out another cigarette, having stubbed the old one out unceremoniously inside a spare glass, completely ignoring the piece of tile which served you as an ashtray “I need young people, new generations. I sent Michael to Boston, and I have Finn on it, but I need more. I need you back to your family”

Family my ass, you remarked for yourself. He didn’t care about the young ones, not even for the sake of novelty. He only wanted fresh meat to supply his death machine and he had found himself the three perfect idiots. Michael, Finn and yourself. The ones to replace those he lost. He wanted to shape you three into the new Arthur, John and Ada. 

Your lack of reply only meant an incentive for him to keep going

“I have a specific job that only you can pull off. It doesn’t need much skill of any type, only discipline and discretion, which I’m sure I can expect from you” He stood up and picked his coat and cap “A car will come pick you up tomorrow at 9. You and whatever belonging you have. We’ll meet in my office. I already have an apartment in your name in Birmingham. Hopefully you won’t miss the rats”

He made his way towards the door, patting you on the shoulder as his way of demonstrating affection for the sister who evaded him for more than a year. He had his hand on the handle when you finally found your voice.

“And what if I refuse?” You didn’t turn towards him. You didn’t trust yourself to have the restraint to not lunge at his face if you had to meet his eye. 

“You won’t refuse. Curiosity has always been bigger than you” He looked around, taking note of the damp stains in the walls, the dirt covered window panes, and the bitten and scratched legs of the chairs “Besides, I already had a talk with your landlady. You can do better than this” He put on his cap and disappeared into the night.

You dropped into the dusty couch and screamed at the top of your lungs, covering your face with a pillow. Be damned the day you decided not to leave the country, and be damned the day you were born a Shelby. 

~

Faced with little options, a steel resolution and, much to your displeasure, incredible and unhealthy curiosity at Thomas’ impudence, you packed your few belongings and waited for the car. You wrote a letter with a sincere apology to Mrs. Foyle and your work mates, and left them some fabrics and sewing kits you had as a farewell gift. At one minute past 9, a Bentley parked in front of your building, standing out like a sore thumb. Before curious neighbours could get a look or anyone pulled out a knife, you climbed in, letting the driver take care of your bags. And of course, your personal bodyguards climbed in too, one sitting at your side and one in the front seat. People had already begun to gather around, making you cover your face in shame as the car finally took off.

The journey back was pretty uneventful, but you could feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Just thinking about home brought back so many painful memories, the idea of being back for good made you panic.

The driver left you in the steps of Shelby Company Limited, while he took off with your suitcase, promising to be back in an hour to drive you to your new apartment. Men and women who entered and left the building bid you hello respectfully with head nods and hat tippings. One of the three secretaries (who needs three anyway?) took your coat, which was much more shabby and cheap than her own, and opened the door for you, leading you into the office which you had never been allowed to see while your family was alive. Decorated with the same rich taste of Arrow House, everything was fine woods and shiny leather. And right at the centre, your brother, sitting behind his oak desk and shuffling through paperwork

“I knew you’d come around, once you had a more indepth thought of the pros and cons” As if he ever took a no for an answer “Whiskey?” He motioned towards a golden bar car, delicate ornate bottles filled with an array of liquors of all sorts, next to six perfectly lined glasses.

You poured yourself what appeared to be gin and sat across him, waving your glass in the air “So, what great trouble of yours is the reason why you forced me here” You made the internal promise to just listen, so he’d get off your back, and then tell him to go to hell. Not even the promise of all the gold in Europe would make you work for him. You’d rather beg for your bread than putting your life in his hands. 

Tommy took some files and pictures from a drawer, and went on detailing your “target” and the tasks of your mission. The more he spoke, the more your blood boiled and heat rose to your face. The nerve one needed to have to ask such things from his baby sister. Putting her right in the line of danger for the sake of greed.

“So, what do you think? Are you in?”

Oh you were going to work for him all right. You’d get right under his nose, stand right in the middle of his trusted circle, make him believe you’d climb a mountain of knives and dive in a sea of fire for him. And you were going to make him pay hell for it. Even if it took your life in the end.

You were going to take Tommy Shelby down.

#peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #shelby sister #shelby reader #tommy shelby x sister #peabky blinders x sister #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister imagine #marsie writes #marsie posts

[aalissy]

Best Friends

Anddd day 20 is now doneee. And it comes with a sappy, lovesick Adrien teehee! I hope you like it <3. Lemme know what you think :).

AO3

Best friends. Best friends. Initially, that word had filled Adrien with a fluttery happiness at the idea that he could associate Marinette with it. Because she was his best friend. He couldn’t imagine anyone more deserving of the title.

And yet, the more he got to know and the more he began to realize his own feelings for her, it felt empty. He wanted more. He knew that it was selfish. That he was being greedy for wanting all of her. But Adrien couldn’t stop it.

Every time she held his hand, giggling and laughing at whatever had grabbed her attention, he felt the butterflies brim to life in his stomach. He wanted to clutch tighter onto her hand and never let go. And yet he couldn’t. Knew that she no longer felt the same way. Which was a bigger travesty than Adrien would care to admit.

If only he had realized his feelings sooner. He remembered the strange, pleasant warmth that had fueled him when Marinette had brushed her lips against his in that museum so long ago now. And yet, he had denied it, brushed aside the budding feelings as there was no way that Marinette could have possibly liked him like that.

After that day, though, Adrien couldn’t help but long that their lips would connect in another kiss. A longer one this time. But, if he was being honest, the fluttery warm feeling had been there since his umbrella had closed down around her that very first day that they had known each other. He can remember his cheeks burning with happiness as he glanced back at Marinette.

Adrien’s feelings just kept building and building until finally, he was practically bursting with them. Until he could no longer deny that he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her. Until he realized that he wanted to be more than just her best friend.

If only he could go back. If only he could go back and press his lips just as tightly against hers into a kiss that they would never be able to go back from. A kiss that would forever change their relationship.

And yet, there Adrien sat on her chaise, watching Marinette longingly as she sewed. Her tongue was poking out of her mouth adorably as she frowned down in concentration at the latest design in front of her. How could one girl be so beautiful?

After a few moments, she spoke up, snapping him out of his fantasies of striding over to her, lifting her chin up, and whispering how devoted he would forever be to her if she just gave him another chance to kiss her.

“What are you looking at?” Marinette asked, still staring down at her design.

“You,” Adrien murmured thoughtlessly.

This time, Marinette’s head did snap up to look at him with a pair of wide, beautiful blue eyes. Having taken her eyes off her design, she pricked her finger against the needle and cursed quietly, turning off the noisy machine.

Her gaze then locked back onto Adrien, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. The moment hung in the air, charged with unspoken emotions and unexplored possibilities. Adrien's heart raced, unsure of how to proceed now that those words had slipped out without thinking.

"I mean, I was just admiring your work," Adrien quickly added, attempting to smooth over his inadvertent confession. He felt a rush of warmth flood his cheeks, hoping that his stumble hadn't revealed too much.

Marinette's lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You always have a way of making me feel special, Adrien," she said, the sincerity in her voice sending a flutter through his chest. 

She was always so pretty when she smiled. Especially when he was the cause of said smile. Unthinkingly, he beamed back at her.

"Would you like to see what I've been working on?" Marinette asked, gesturing to the sketches scattered across her workspace.

“Always!” he spoke eagerly, jumping to a stand as he leaned over her shoulder to look down at the design.

Adrien’s chest brushed against her shoulder and he shivered at the heat that suddenly surrounded him. He forced himself to ignore the warmth as he looked down at the design that she had been working on. “Wow,” he murmured. “Marinette, this is amazing.”

She beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Yeah?” she asked. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Adrien nodded. Unable to stop himself, he murmured, “You’re amazing.”

Marinette's cheeks flushed pink at Adrien's compliment, her smile widening with genuine happiness. "Thank you, Adrien," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that echoed his own feelings.

Their eyes locked, and in that shared gaze, Adrien felt a surge of courage. He simply couldn't hold back any longer, couldn't let this moment slip away without expressing the depth of his emotions.

"Marinette, there's something I need to tell you," Adrien began, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. "I've been holding this in for so long, but I can't keep it to myself any longer."

Marinette's expression shifted to one of curiosity mixed with just a hint of apprehension. "What is it, Adrien?" she asked, her voice soft, encouraging him to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien reached out, gently cupping Marinette's face in his hands. His thumb brushed against her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw as he searched for the right words. Her eyes widened further at his touch, her lips parting as she blinked up at him.

"I love you, Marinette," Adrien confessed, his gaze unwavering. "Not just as a friend, but with all of my heart. I've realized that I want to be more than just your best friend. I want to be with you, to share every moment, every laugh, every dream."

Marinette's breath caught in her throat. Emotions flickered across her face—shock, joy, and a hint of uncertainty. Adrien held his breath, waiting for her response, his heart pounding in his chest.

For a moment, even the world seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself paused to witness this short exchange. And then, with a soft smile that lit up her entire face, Marinette leaned in, closing the gap between them.

Their lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss, sealing their unspoken promises and unfulfilled desires. It was a kiss filled with years of friendship, with shared memories, and unspoken confessions. At that moment, everything fell into place, and Adrien knew that he had found his home in Marinette's embrace.

As they pulled back, breathless and gazing into each other's eyes, Adrien felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The unspoken had been spoken, the longing had been fulfilled, and they stood on the threshold of a new chapter in their relationship.

"I love you too, Adrien. I’ve always loved you," Marinette whispered, her voice filled with love and sincerity. After a moment, she laughed, the joy in her giggles making his heart clench. “I’ve loved you for so long now. Longer than you could have even imagined. This means more to me than you could ever know."

And in that simple affirmation, Adrien knew that their love story was just beginning. He leaned down, taking her hand in his as he clutched it to his chest tightly. He brought it up to his lips, brushing a kiss on her knuckles. “I might have some idea,” he murmured before leaning back in to claim her lips once more. This was more than he could ever have imagined.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #ml #fic #fanfic #adrienette #adrinette #ml fic #adrinetteapril2024 #adrienetteapril2024 #adrinetteapril #adrienetteapril #love square #love confessions

[writingscraps]

Midnight Teasing

ao3 | ff.net 

ship: Marinette x Chat Noir

rating: T (might go up)

summary: 

“Sometimes you take it too far, Chat. What will you do if I fall in love with you?” Marinette challenged, allowing the casual act of his kiss-on-hand take place before releasing said hand. 

“Then I’ll simply love you back,” he vowed, leaning closer towards her with a toothy grin taking a stance as he winked at her.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her eyebrows knitting together as they stared at him with low confidence. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, silly cat.”

Usually, Chat Noir didn’t stop by the Dupain-Cheng residence for the baked goods, but he couldn’t deny just how heavenly they truly were against his tongue. The cat-boy merrily sat on his friend’s chaise, with his legs crossed underneath him, munching as he held a plate of what-used-to-be-full of freshly-out-the-oven gingerbread cookies in his hands. It smelt like Christmas, appropriate considering the time of year; and although he knew it was probably the too-many baked goods, it gave his tummy a fuzzy feeling.  

“Sorry, Princess,” he sighed contently, softly placing the plate on the floor as he began laying down, unfolding his body about the upholstered sofa, stretching his arms above his head while extending the tips of his boots outwardly, yawning exaggeratedly. “You weren’t fast enough to get your share of the cookies.”  

Marinette huffed, stopping the concentration she had been giving her sewing machine as she worked on a project, turning her body to stare at the superhero lounging lazily. “Chat, you seriously ate all the cookies?” She wanted to be upset, but as she watched the boy nod with no resentment whatsoever, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes in an endearing manner. “One cookie, Chat. Just one.”  

“I don’t think you would have liked them very much. Too gingery.”  

“Aha. Says the cat that ate all of them.”  

He seemed too comfortable, making her own droopy eyes want to shut, pretty tired herself. It was then that she began rolling her chair towards her monitor as she wondered about the time, not realizing just how late it was. She needed to be in bed now, and that meant it was time to kick her good ole’ friend out the window – even if she didn’t want to.  

“Well, Chat,” she sighed, standing with a light stretch, “it’s time to call it a night.”  

“You’re not seriously kicking me out because I ate all the cookies?”  

Marinette laughed out loud at his offended tone, shaking her head, “Although it is a good enough reason, that is not why. But I do have school tomorrow.”  

Chat Noir was quick to sit up on his knees, observing the young girl try and pop her back by placing her palms against her hips as she arched her pelvis forward. Her eyes closed momentarily as she scrunched her nose. He shouldn’t had been drawn by her simple movements, but he couldn’t deny that was.  

“Need some help?” He called after her, a teasing tone – rather than a genuine one – skipped towards her just as she opened her eyes to glare at him.  

She scoffed, her own playful grin spreading about her cheeks as she shook her head, “I’ve got it, but thanks.”  

And as though having the need to play his part, the superhero too easily and too quickly crawled out the sofa to make his way towards her. Within a blink of an eye, her abnormally large eyes stared directly into his green ones just as he stood in front of her. “If you’d let me, I can help you feel good,” he promised, his voice hoarse and low, with his lips just a tad too close to hers. He seemed serious, no goofy grin faltering his demeanor as she felt the claws of his gloves softly skim down her forearm unexpectedly.  

“Chat.” Marinette groaned, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed at the intentional misinterpretation to his comment. “Out,” she demanded, attempting to back away from him, but her clumsiness never failing to take a part of her everyday life caused her to stumble backwards. She was casually rescued by the fast reflexes that were of the suave kitty-cat.  

His hands hooked around her back just as she was about to crash against her floor, and her cheeks were steaming. She could feel the burning sensation dragging itself up her throat and over her cheeks towards her ears. Chat Noir simply chuckled delightfully, “Princess, you simply must stop falling me.”  

Such an overused line, but that didn’t stop her heart from beating so hard against her chest. “Chat,” she sighed, very obviously annoyed as she attempted to escape his grip.

These interactions had begun feelings like a cat-and-mouse-chase, but if she were being honestly, she hadn’t attempted to stop his teasing advancements past their usual bantering. She never truly paid them much attention, because usually they weren’t much to them; now, they’ve began getting out of hand.  

“You sure love saying my name,” he grinned shamelessly.  

After a few wiggles, the young girl was freed, as the blonde boy swiftly pulled them up and quickly reached for her hand to kiss. “Oh, don’t be mad,” he sing-sang, “I was simply teasing.”  

“Sometimes you take it too far, Chat. What will you do if I fall in love with you?” Marinette challenged, allowing the casual act of his kiss-on-hand take place before releasing said hand.  

“Then I’ll simply love you back,” he vowed, leaning closer towards her with a toothy grin taking a stance as he winked at her.  

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her eyebrows knitting together as they stared at him with low confidence. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, silly cat.”  

Marinette tossed and turned actually upset now because she had been dying to go sleep not too long ago when Chat Noir was still in her bedroom. If it hadn’t been for his very casual Casanova mannerisms, she wouldn’t have him running around her mind. It wasn’t that she was in love with Chat Noir, but she also wasn’t blind and could secretly admit that he was a very attractive superhero – even if just to herself.  

But only as far as that.  

But sometimes he was too smooth with his teasing words, she’d find herself wanting to believe them. She huffed, smacking her bed with a flat palm, groaning loudly.  

“Marinette,” Tikki called, her voice in a hushed whisper having been woken up suddenly. “Are you alright?”  

“He can be so- so- ugh!”

“You’re still upset about Chat Noir?” Her Kwami inquired, as the magical creature had been a firsthand witness to the development of Chat Noir’s flirtatiousness over the single year that he had found himself climbing into her bedroom. Their interactions began very causal and light, until they weren’t.  

Marinette had never had a problem pushing him away with just the tip of her finger against his nose, but each passing visitation, she’d stutter and find herself wanting to melt into a puddle. But she didn’t like him like that, or so her holder swore.  

Marinette wanted to lie and say ‘no’, but she was still very much upset. What game was he playing?  

“You know, Tikki,” Marinette spoke into her dark bedroom, illuminated by her the uncovered windows and skylight right above her, “I bet he wouldn’t be as poised if...”  

After a pause too long, Tikki called after her, “If what, Marinette?”  

The young girl chuckled out loud in a very much “I can’t believe I’m going to do this” tone, as she dragged a palm down her face, answering, “Oh, nothing, Tikki. I’m just venting.”  

-:-  

Four days. Four days!  

Why hadn’t Chat Noir paid a visit in such a long time? So, it wasn’t a long time, as they’d actually had gone much longer without seeing each other as civilian and superhero. But still.  

It was past ten at night, Marinette noticed, a smile tugging at her lips as she clipped a few loose strands from the scarf she had been working on. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Alya, that she had been making Chat Noir a scarf as a Christmas gift. It was a very simple design; fully black with neon-green thin lines as a pattern, and a small paw in the corner. Very on-brand. She didn’t think it’d keep him warm, if he decided to use it as outwear, but it was the thought that counted.  

She folded the scarf and neatly stuffed it inside the decorative paper bag, along with some catnip as an inside joke, where she had planned to gift it in. Tikki had gone to bed a while back, and Marinette had almost given in until she heard a very light knock coming from her skylight.  

She didn’t want to smile as big as her lips were widening, but she couldn’t contain herself. Tonight would be the night Chat Noir had a taste of his own medicine.  

“Two cookies? That’s all?” Chat Noir groaned when Marinette climbed up the stairs from her kitchen with a plate of said cookies and a glass full of milk. She knew he was the holder of the cat miraculous, but did he really have to play the role so seriously?  

Marinette scoffed, handing him the dishes, “After what you pulled last time, do you really think I’m risking my cookies?”  

He sighed drastically, “Alas, I will accept them. A short-lived joy, but joy nevertheless.”  

She laughed, never a dull thing coming out of his mouth, responding with her typical eye-roll when it came to him. “Just eat them, Chat.”  

It was past midnight when Chat Noir noticed his friend yawn softly, covering her mouth with both hands. Cute. She had been sitting on her chaise, her back against the sofa as she had been watching the cat-boy straddling her pink desk chair as he twirled. He had stopped not long ago when he accidently unbalanced the chair by drifting too far to the side, abandoning the chair all together after she began laughing hysterically at him. He hadn’t thought it was that funny. He, instead, casually reaching for a sketchbook that had been laying by her desktop computer and flipped it open.  

“Feeling sleepy, Princess?” Chat Noir asked, taking a moment to stop skimming through the pages of endless designs to look up at her.  

“Just a little.” She answered truthfully, not wanting him to leave. Not yet. She was on a mission.  

“Maybe,” he cleared his throat, closing the sketchbook loud enough to startle her before placing it back on the desk. She recognized that gaze. It was like his whole persona changed, as though he was trying to catch his prey.  

His lips easily turned into a smirk as he made his way to her, not wasting time and placing each hand on each side of her torso, trapping her in position. “...we should go to bed.”  

Marinette wanted to laugh, she wanted to smack him silly, because the way he talked to her he definitely practiced in front of a mirror.  

“I will be going to bed,” she said, “you will be going home.” This time she didn’t attempt pushing him away, as she typically would.  

Stick to it, Marinette. Stick to it.  

There was a swirl at the pit of her stomach, her eyes daring and confident as they tried to match those of Chat Noir.  

“So, no sleepover?” He continued to tease, his posture lowering slightly. His mouth skid itself against her cheek, and she did shiver this time. Although very lightly, his lips bumped onto her skin, not stopping until reaching her jawline just before reaching the crook of her neck.  

Odd. Usually, she’d stop him before he’d get this far.  

He pulled away slightly, searching her eyes, but they were tightly shut with a veil of rosy cheeks on her face. She was nervous, but he’d always manage to make her nervous. That was why he loved teasing her so much. She was so easy to taunt, it was adorable. She’d smack him away, ask him to go away, and he’d go away but always came back.  

She knew he didn’t mean any of those things. That was the set-up of their game.  

When Marinette stopped feeling Chat Noir’s breathing on her cheek, she opened her eyes, staring at him behind her long eyelashes. He was so close.  

She smelled of vanilla; intoxicatingly sweet. Her back was still pushed against the reclining of the sofa, now staring at him with doe-like eyes with her lower lip pouted down. She was wearing her usual pigtails, hovering messily over and behind her almost bare shoulders, as she waited, it seemed.  

“Don’t tease.” She called after him, her voice low and soft and enchanting. Her whisper almost seemed like a fragment of his very attentive imagination. He could hear her breathing very clearly considering how close she was to him. She could feel his breathing press against her nose.  

“W-what?” He called after her, feeling like he had been pulled out of a daze, not expecting to get this far. Never this far.  

“You promised,” she muttered, “that you would...”  

He could feel a knot begin to suffocate his throat. “Th-that I would...?”  

Marinette’s eyelashes fluttered quickly, her now droopy eyelids shifting her eyes to stare down at his mouth. She pushed herself slightly forward, but not kissing him, just close enough to breathe him in.  

“...not tease,” she finally finished her statement, her lips turning into a bashful smile. It was small and bashful but bewitching nonetheless. But before she could begin laughing and poke fun for always teasing her about such things, and relish on the victory that she finally did it back, Chat Noir bumped his mouth into hers.  

Marinette’s eyes went wide as she felt his lips harshly press into hers, as one of his hands easily wrapped itself behind her back while the other took hold of her face. His clawed hand cupped her ear, with its fingers digging into her hair and adjusting her head’s posture.  

His kiss was rough at first, taking as much as he could of her. His teeth scraped her top lip, gently tugging against, subtly whimpering at her. Her mouth widen so easily at his demand, pushing herself forward, ignoring the flutter of ladybug wings flapping at the pit of her stomach.  

She should have pushed him away, she wanted to push him away – maybe? Her hands didn’t know what to do, as she hadn’t expected anything out of this game. She was supposed to be laughing at him, not melting like room-temperature butter.  

continue reading in my ao3 or ff.net account

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #fanfiction #fanfic #miraculous ladybug FanFiction #miraculous ladybug fanfic #mlb fanfic #ml fanfic #mlb fanfiction #ml fanfiction #marichat fanfic #marichat fanfiction #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x chat noir #chat noir x marinette #marinoir #love square