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banggyu0308 · 11 months

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Pretty Eyes... // Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun

requested

Choi Yeonjun x fem!reader x Kang Taehyun

Summary: Yeonjun can’t help getting a filthy idea in his even filthier brain after you compliment his friend…

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: art student reader, reader and Yeonjun are in an established relationship, voyeurism, threesome, dom Taejun x sub reader (except Yeonjun is more dom than Taehyun), use of pet names/nicknames (baby, pretty, kitten, love, Jun, Juni, Taehyunnie, Tae), at one point Yeonjun straddles the reader, very drowsy and soft at the beginning, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, blowjob, handjob, Taehyun jerks himself off, pussy slapping, overstimulation, degradation, Taehyun hits the readers face with his dick, slight bulge kink, creampie, breeding kink, tit sucking

Word count: 4.7k

A/N - this is my longest fic so far… 😭

“Taehyunnie!! Come here, help me with this?”

You’re lugging in a few boxes of pizza, all for the sake of movie night with your boyfriend and his friends, and your arms are piled so high with them that you can barely see over it.

You’re unsure whether or not he heard you, when the top two boxes lift up and you’re met with a view of Taehyun’s face, smiling at you. “Thank you for the pizza,” he says, giving you an awkward side hug before leading you inside and to the dorm living room.

Yeonjun sees the two of you enter, hopping up from his spot on the couch with Beomgyu and taking the remaining boxes from you. “Hey baby,” he whispers, lips pressing a kiss to the spot below your ear before he sidles away, placing the boxes on the small table in front of the couch along with the boxes Taehyun had carried in.

You smile to yourself, plopping onto the couch with a sigh. Yeonjun sits down on the other side of you, arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Missed you…” he mumbles with a smile.

“It’s been three days, Jun, really?” You tease, fingers threading through his hair.

“Yeah, since I’ve seen you, but I missed you in other ways too…” His voice is quieter now, deeper too, dropping half an octave, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up…” you whisper, looking up at the ceiling as Soobin and Kai file into the room, settling on a movie with little to no argument, a new record.

You worm your way to snuggle against Yeonjun’s side, the movie playing, and as soon as it ends, Beomgyu, with his untamable energy, suggests you play a game.

“I’ve got a better idea… Y/N, why don’t you draw something for us?” Yeonjun suggests, eager to show you off.

Ever since you’d introduced him to your work a few weeks earlier, he’d been begging you to show the others just how talented you are. And here he’d found the perfect opportunity, you can’t resist the charming smile he sends your way.

You sigh. “Alright… who should be my first victim? I mean- muse.” You giggle at your own joke, taking a pencil and paper Soobin hands you.

“I nominate Taehyun,” Beomgyu says from his spot on the floor. “He’s got an easy face to draw…” he says the next bit with a lopsided grin on his lips, eyes on Taehyun. “… pretty plain.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, but turns to you. “I’m up for it. If I'm the easiest.”

You study his face for a moment. “I don’t think your face is plain…” You sketch out a rough draft as you talk, then you look back up at him, making sure to take in the detail, the way his hair’s parted messily today, the pretty silver that comes from the washed-out blue catching the light. The way his eyes almost seem to sparkle when he grins at you, he really does have a gorgeous smile.

But all you comment as you turn back to your drawing is, “you’ve got pretty eyes.”

You finish the outline sketch of your drawing a few minutes later, scrutinize it, and deem it worthy for others to view. Everyone applauds you and compliments your work, Yeonjun practically beaming as if he’d drawn it.

Then Beomgyu finally gets his way and you all play a few rounds of board games together, Taehyun still staring in awe at the drawing of him, the one you let him have. You can almost feel his shock radiating off of him, your cheeks hot, and you only realize how late it’s gotten after you finish Monopoly.

You stand quickly, gathering your things in a panic, but Yeonjun waves you off. “Just stay tonight? Please?”

You can’t argue with the look on his face, so eager, and sit down with a sigh. “Bedtime soon though. And I’m NOT sleeping on the couch.”

“10 minutes, promise, and you can sleep with me,” he decides.

20 minutes later, you’re practically falling asleep on the floor. “Gonna go to bed…” you mumble, half to yourself, and stand from your spot on the hardwood.

Yeonjun stands with you, following behind you as you head to his room after good nights to the other members. He lets you use his spare toothbrush, standing behind you and looping his arms around you in a back hug while you get ready.

You’re in practically the same position when you fall asleep, and Yeonjun swears to himself that if you weren’t so exhausted, he’d have taken you right then and there.

The next morning you find yourself in bed alone, the absence of Yeonjun’s warmth next to you making your heart hurt with disappointment… There was never anything better than waking up next to him, watching his eyelashes fan out over his cheeks as he sleeps, perfect, plump lips pulled in a pout, fingers still laced with yours under the covers.

He comes out of the bathroom a moment later, towel around his waist, hair wet from the shower, and you tuck yourself under the blanket. You just want him in bed with you, naked or not.

His eyes settle on you, a soft smile teasing the corner of his lips, you just look so cute, tangled up in the bedsheets, wearing an oversized shirt of his that fits you just how he likes. Yeonjun can’t help pulling on a fresh pair of boxers, sliding into bed next to you, slender frame fitting around yours perfectly. The bare skin of his torso presses against your arm and he exhales shakily when your fingers find the dip of his waist, pulling him closer to you.

With the blanket tucked up to his chin, all you can see of him is his neck, his face, and one smooth, exposed shoulder. The soft honey skin of his shoulder draws your attention and you place a gentle kiss to the dip above his collarbone.

The touch of your lips makes his eyes flutter shut, and a small exhale of happiness leaves his parted lips. You were always more romantic in the morning.

Your fingertips still press into his waist and you drag him closer until his chest is flush against yours. Yeonjun leans his forehead against yours with a smile, then slides his face to the crook of your neck, nosing along your shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot where it meets your neck.

“The other members already left…” he mumbles against you, voice drowsy with content.

The sound of his voice leaves you breathless, wide awake the moment his lips touch your skin. Somehow, in the seconds after you pressed his body to yours, his practically bare frame moved from beside you to almost on top, long legs on either side of yours.

You raise your body up until your back is against the headboard, Yeonjun in your lap, his knees next to your hips, kissing you suddenly with his hands on your arms.

You comply when his tongue brushes over your bottom lip, letting him taste you, a small smile on your face. A moment later, you feel him rut against your closed thighs, and a tingly, tightening sensation shoots its way down your back.

“Said the members are gone?” You whisper against his lips. He nods, hair falling in your face and tickling your cheek. You rake a hand through his hair gently, enjoying the silkiness of the strands between your fingers, then lick up the side of his neck before biting a dark, splotchy hickey into his skin.

Yeonjun sucks in a sharp breath. He moves so you’re flat on your back before slipping a hand up and under the shirt of his you’re wearing.

“Looking so pretty in my clothes… can’t help wanting you all the time, it’s your fault,” he teases, leaving multiple love bites up your neck, tugging the shirt up and over your tits.

He lets out a soft exhale when your panties slide down your legs. “I swear, you look tastier than last time… pretty little cunt, all mine.” He hums against your neck, fingers tracing your pussy, spreading your slick around before slipping his fingers inside you.

You whine a little at the feeling, reaching to run a hand over the waistband of his boxers. “Wan’ off…” you mumble, eyes shutting.

Yeonjun laughs, fingers looping under his waistband to tug them off.

Before he can, however, his phone rings.

Yeonjun scrambles to pick it up, ready to press dismiss, but the name listed on the Caller ID makes him divert his direction and accept it instead.

“Yeah? Okay, okay, we’ll work on it later, but come over? Just for a little… yes, and lock the door behind you.”

A few seconds later and he’s off the phone, a smile on his face when he looks back at you.

“Who was that?” You manage to mumble out, finger circling around your clit as your eyes shut.

“Gonna find out… Now come on baby, let me make you feel good…” Yeonjun peeks up at you from between your legs once he settles there, then presses a light kiss to your clit.

The contact makes your legs twitch, hand moving to the back of his head, and when his tongue flicks over your sensitive bud before delving between your folds, you press his head a little closer to your wet cunt.

You’re so intently focused on his tongue on your pussy that you don’t even hear the front door open and close. You do notice, however, when the door to Yeonjun’s room opens a crack.

Your eyes fly open to meet Taehyun’s shocked gaze, pretty brown eyes wider than usual as he takes in your position.

You can only imagine how you look; Yeonjun practically naked, face buried in your cunt with his hands gripping your thighs, never stopping, even when Taehyun walks in, you on your back with your legs spread wide, shirt hitched up over your breasts.

His cheeks go pink and yours heat up, your eyes flicking down to the front of his pants. There’s a slight tent there that only grows bigger when you throw your head back again, moans leaving your lips as Yeonjun’s tongue laps at your clit.

Yeonjun doesn’t bother to turn and face Taehyun when he says, “go ahead and sit on the chair, Taehyun.”

Taehyun silently follows Yeonjun’s direction, sitting on the chair in front of the desk in the corner.

Yeonjun looks up at you from between your legs, a sly smile on his face.

“You want Tae to watch you get wrecked by me with his pretty eyes, don’t you, love?”

Your eyes grow wider, but you nod quickly, looking over at Taehyun. He’s shifting in his seat, like he’s uncomfortable to even be here, but then you follow his eyes as he glances down at his pants, and you realize that his dick is practically straining at his jeans.

“Jun… Taehyunnie can touch himself, can’t he?” You ask tentatively, voice threaded through with the sounds of your pleasure as Yeonjun brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“Of course he can… probably wouldn’t be able to help himself, pretty pussy like yours on display.” He hums his response against you, and the vibration makes you gasp, the thread inside you pulled taut before snapping.

Your legs shake as you cum, hips bucking upwards into Yeonjun’s face, unintentionally bringing his tongue further inside you, and a little squeak bubbles up past your closed lips.

You happen to glance over at Taehyun, lips parting in a small o shape when you see that he’s pulled his cock out of his pants, hand wrapped around his base. He stays frozen like that, looking at you, shirt pulled up just a little to expose his abs.

Yeonjun lightly taps your cheek to make you look at him, and when you switch your gaze to him, you find that he’s taken off his boxers, a small smirk tugging his lips when he strokes himself twice. His tip is dribbling precum down the side of his shaft, and he gently smears it over your thighs before rubbing himself along your slit. Yeonjun uses your slick to lubricate him before prodding your entrance with the head of his dick.

“Is baby ready for my cock?” He coos teasingly, licking a line up the side of your neck.

You nod, hands bunching the sheets up. Yeonjun hums and slowly pushes himself in all the way, propping his body up to watch as he disappears inside you repeatedly.

You aren’t surprised when he helps you onto all fours, back arched and ass up in the air with your cheek against the pillow Yeonjun had been laying on the night before.

Your cheek rubs at the fabric, hips rocking back to his, and the way your face is buried against the sheets, you have a perfect view of Taehyun when he finally slides a hand up his dick, head rocking back momentarily before locking his eyes on yours again.

He looks big, as big as Yeonjun at least, and you can’t help but imagine how stuffed you’d feel with him inside you.

Yeonjun’s tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly and you feel your breath catch… it feels so good, and you can’t help but vocalize that, your voice a whimper.

“Wan’ Taehyun in my mouth…” you mumble a moment later, voice muffled by the sheets you bunch in between your teeth at the ecstasy coursing through your veins. “Wanna taste…”

Yeonjun tsks, pausing with just his tip in. “Say please, kitten.”

Just as you open your mouth to respond, hopefully coherently, his hand slips between your thighs to rub at your clit. Your brain goes fuzzy and you try to remember your words, grasping at the faint edges. “Please, Jun?”

You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Please what, baby?”

“Want Taehyun, please?”

Yeonjun lets his hand drop, gripping your waist instead, and sinks just a little further into you. “Where do you want him, baby?”

“Mouth?”

“Say please…” another little twitch of his hips and he’s halfway, lips on your neck. He noses along your shoulder and sucks a hickey onto your skin, waiting for you to speak again.

“Want him in my mouth, please…” you manage, face completely buried in the pillow.

Yeonjun, satisfied with your answer, rocks himself against you until he’s all the way in again. He starts up his pace, faster this time, and gestures Taehyun over.

Taehyun wastes no time, settling himself at the very head of the bed, and you manage to raise yourself up to face him. Your cheeks grow hot when you realize you’re eye-to-eye with his dick, which is flushed pink and leaking precum.

Tentatively you place your lips on his thigh, and when you feel him twitch slightly, you move a little higher, until you’re met with the base of his dick.

Tip of your tongue flicking ever so slowly over his slit, gathering the precum on your tongue before suckling a little on his tip, trying to focus with Yeonjun still steadily fucking into you from behind. Your minuscule, lazy efforts are well received by Taehyun though, his whole body shuddering, and you push his thighs apart gently.

You take the head of his cock between your lips, then a little more, tongue flat against the underside of his dick. Taehyun’s hand flies to your hair so fast it makes Yeonjun chuckle, pressing kisses along your shoulder, and you watch Taehyun flush. His own hand is wrapped around the base of his dick and he tugs himself out of your mouth. You eye him questioningly and he responds by tapping his tip against your cheek, spreading his precum over your skin before placing himself on your lips again. “Be a good little slut for me and suck me off good, hm?” He hums, the switch in personality making you tighten around Yeonjun, who hisses lightly.

“Like when Taehyun talks like that, baby?” He asks, and you can hear a smirk in his voice. “Wanna be his slut?”

You don’t know whether to nod or shake your head, settling on simply taking Taehyun in your mouth again. “Wanna make him feel good,” you mumble, bobbing your head up and down just a little, hand moving to jerk off the rest of him, and Taehyun’s hand wraps around yours.

Your eyes flick up to his, and he only bends to place a kiss to your forehead. His hand gently moves yours along the length of his dick and you allow it, applying slight pressure on his tip when you lick over it again.

Taehyun’s head lolls back and to the side, his other arm moving to drape over his face. His muffled moans let you know he’s biting into the skin of his arm, and when a particularly rough thrust from Yeonjun makes Taehyun’s tip hit the back of your throat, you gagging a bit around him, Taehyun lets out a sharp gasp, pulling out of your mouth. He tugs frantically at his cock, head rocked back, the muscles of his thighs trembling under your hands, and when you give him another helping lap at his tip, his cum coats your lips and tongue, some getting on your nose, your cheeks, and the most adorable, high pitched moan leaves him, still muffled by the hand over his mouth.

You attempt to lick up all the cum around your mouth, a small yelp of pleasure forced against Taehyun’s hip when Yeonjun speeds up a little.

You busy yourself with tugging Taehyun’s shirt up and leaving a constellation of marks on his waistline, joining them together in a heart. You’re leaving the last one when Yeonjun pulls out, suddenly lowering his face to your cunt to lap at your clit. You let out a surprised little gasp, the sudden stimulation sending you over the edge, and Yeonjun smirks, pulling away to push his dick inside you again.

Your already tight walls are throbbing around him and he thrusts into you so deep that you can feel him in your tummy. Your hand moves behind you to grasp his wrist, tugging his hand so it slips from your waist to your stomach. You press his palm to your abdomen so he can feel the little bulge there, and as soon as he does you hear his breath stutter from behind you.

His cum fills you a moment later, making you feel all warm inside… god, you love it when he does that, makes you even more fucked out than you already are. Your brain goes so fuzzy you can’t comprehend when Yeonjun pulls out, murmuring to Taehyun to take his spot, and you can’t comprehend when Taehyun presses his tip to your cum-soaked entrance.

Your head only rocks backward and a soft whimper leaves your lips. You feel so good inside, your hand grasping for whoever’s closest.

Yeonjun presses a few kisses to your cheeks and lips and you whine a little, chasing after his lips. You can only pout a little when he laughs and kisses you on the corner of your lips.

A sharp slap to your cunt draws you back to the moment, jolting you out of your stupor. Your focus stalls on Taehyun, between your legs, a small smirk drawn across his face, and he delivers another small hit to your clit.

This time you’re expecting it, and it makes you gasp slightly, the feeling of his fingers on your swollen clit making your thighs shake.

Even though it feels so dirty, having him between your legs like this, you only want more. You want to know what it feels like for him to be inside you, you need to know.

You look over at Yeonjun for permission, and he nods and moves to spread your legs a little wider.

Taehyun’s wide eyes are so eager, he wants this just as bad as you. Not that he’d ever tell either of you, but he’s wanted this for a lot longer than just today.

He’s walked in on you more than once, quiet enough that neither you nor Yeonjun noticed. But he did, and the sight of you with Taehyun’s best friend’s dick buried inside of you, your pretty tight cunt covered and glistening with your slick… yeah, he’s jerked off to that mental image more than once before.

And now he’s got you in the exact same position, pussy all wet and warm in front of him, his for the taking, and he can’t help being just a little delirious.

Taehyun has you squirming underneath him, only his tip inside, little teensy thrusts in and out and he can’t tell if they’re more frustratingly agonizing for him or you.

But when you look up at him, all whimpery and teary-eyed, begging him, “just a little more, please Taehyunnie?” … god, he can’t resist it.

Bottoming out in you so quickly you almost scream, a sharp inhale burning your throat and your cunt tightening around him.

You can barely even breathe- it feels too fucking good, he’s filling you up so so perfectly, thick cock pressing up against all of the most perfect spots inside you.

And as for Taehyun… trying to even his breathing isn’t going to work, especially when your velvety walls take him in so greedily.

He takes a long inhale to try and calm himself down, cause he’s not going to be able to last as long as he wants if he fucks into you immediately. You feel like absolute heaven around him. Better than he thought you would.

Taehyun slowly starts to rock in and out of you, keeping his pace steady, and Yeonjun watches from the side.

Yeonjun’s nodding approvingly and nudging your knees further apart when one wave of pleasure makes you almost knock them together.

“You wanna kiss her, Taehyun?” He asks, a grin tugging at his perfect lips.

Taehyun nods quickly and you both ignore how he twitches inside you at the same time your walls flutter around him… but the looks on your faces tell Yeonjun exactly what he already knows.

“Such a little cockslut, aren’t you?” Yeonjun teases, and when you nod he only laughs. “Bet you just want Taehyun’s dick inside you and his lips on yours, don’t you? Little whore all full with another man’s cock in her tummy…”

Tears prick your eyes at his words but you don’t deny it. He’s right, and your walls tightening around Taehyun only proves it.

“Jus’ wanna kiss him, please Juni?” You’re practically begging, legs aching from holding them so wide, and the constant press of Taehyun’s tip against that most perfect spot inside you is making your whole body shake.

“Yeah? Wanna kiss Tae, with his pretty eyes and his pretty moans and his pretty dick stuffing you so full?”

You nod so fast and your eagerness makes Taehyun’s heart race. He’s one step away from begging himself when Yeonjun finally relents, Yeonjun’s long slender fingers wrapping around his own dick. Getting off to his girlfriend getting fucked to tears by his best friend… he can’t help it.

And when you so desperately catch Taehyun’s lips with your own, finally, finally getting to find out how his lips feel against yours, Taehyun’s fingers rub at your clit cause he can feel just how desperate your cunt is for his dick, too.

A shocked little whimper is all the sound you can make at this point, too far gone in your pleasure, and fuck, you’re cumming around him, trembling so hard that Taehyun threads his fingers with yours and presses a line of kisses to your jaw.

Your high seems to last forever and Yeonjun takes your other hand in his free one as your chest heaves, trying to return your pulse and breathing to normal.

It’s a little hard to, though, with Taehyun chasing his own high. Your cunt tightens around him in sync with your heartbeat and you’re almost on cloud nine at this point. Your legs are over Taehyun’s shoulders, every little throb of your pussy making his hips stutter.

“Hyung, can, can I cum inside?” He asks, his voice breathless and airy, cause you feel so fucking good, he doesn’t think he can last much longer.

“Go ahead, she’ll enjoy it, pretty cumslut,” Yeonjun says. His own words sound tight and strained and you look over at him… You had no idea your boyfriend was jerking off to what was going on in front of him.

Taehyun’s face moves to your neck and he bites a hickey into your skin, one last deep thrust before he buries his cum inside you.

Your chin is on his shoulder and you grasp your own hands behind his back before looping one through his hair. You cling to him throughout his orgasm, your other palm flat against the smooth skin of his back. Little twitches of his hips fuck his cum further into you until he finally pulls out and rolls next to you, his eyes shut and his breathing ragged.

Yeonjun, with his head thrown back and his long neck on display, rights himself and slides up the bed and to you, and without question or protest you wrap your fingers around him.

“Got so hard watching us fuck…” you mumble in surprise, sliding a hand over his dick to spread the precum around even more.

This has to be Yeonjun’s favorite part, your eyes so wide and innocent while you jerk him off, even with two men’s cum leaking from your cunt and staining the bed. Just the sight of your pouty lips while you look up at him like that makes him twitch in your palm, and when you giggle, quickening your pace and applying just a little more pressure, asking him softly, “do you like that, Juni?” That sends him over, warm cum dripping all over your face and tits.

“Clean her up, Tyun,” Yeonjun instructs once he’s calmed down, laying back on the bed on the other side of you.

Taehyun rolls onto his tummy and props himself up on his elbows. One look at your cum-covered breasts and his lips and tongue are all over you, suckling gently on one nipple while his fingertip traces the other, and you lean your head back softly. “Feels good, Taehyunnie, so good, but just supposed to clean me up…”

He hums and shakes his head but sits back anyways, eyes on your tits, and you laugh at his wide-eyed gaze.

Yeonjun smiles at the two of you before finding you a clean pair of underwear, and you look up at him in surprise when he helps you put them on without cleaning you up first.

Yeonjun only shakes his head with a smile and places a kiss on your forehead. He tucks himself under the blanket and jokingly flings the blanket over your head, catching you against his chest, and Taehyun almost feels out of place until your hand finds his and you’re tugging him under the blanket too.

You move so you’re facing him, forehead against his, a smile on your face as you mouth, “pretty eyes,” and the look on his face is priceless, cheeks flushing and an elated smile crossing his face.

Pretty soon all three of you are scrambling for breath and popping your heads up and out of the blanket. Still almost completely naked, bare skin up against bare skin, eyes shut because you’re all so exhausted.

You’re half asleep when you feel Taehyun’s lips on your breast again, a soft giggle slipping past your lips, and he tenses against you until you open your eyes and place a reassuring hand on his cheek and a kiss on his forehead.

His cheeks are a little pink and he closes his eyes again, you doing the same, the occasional little suck on your nipple making your thighs press together…

But then you fall asleep too, face buried in his hair, Yeonjun’s arms around your waist.

That is, however, only until the other members come home from work and come looking for the other two fifths of their group…

taglist: @napofamoon , @ixayjun , @kazscara , @full-sunnies

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pumpkin-spike18 · 15 days

Text

✨Weekly Progress 2024 #13-15✨

I thought I missed 2 weeks, but turns out it was 3 🤐

Weekly Progress #13

Submitted DGM Page

Submitted 1/2 Fan Project checkin

Fleshed out about 1/3-1/2 P^3 outline

Read through + ID'd illustration points for Fan Project #2

Weekly Progress #14

Made SYVNH Script plan

Copied SYVNH + Side B to renpy

Talked with SFB musician

Drafted a pitch

Initial scripting pass for SYVNH main story

Sketched SFB Dove & Avia sprites (additional poses + outfits)

Linearted SFB Raven sprite

Weekly Progress #15

Initial scripting pass for SYVNH Side B

Finished 19 new additional SYVNH art assets

Coded in additional SYVNH art

Programmed in Side B link in main menu

Scripted in additional SYVNH art

I had a lovely two weeks of scripting 🙂🙂🙂

Yes, I lost my mind. Yes, it was mostly missing to begin with so no harm done.

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel...HELP!!

As I discussed before, I do my scripting in multiple passes. Though, this time I checked to make sure my staging is good before doing sound bites and audio. I'll admit that it's mostly so I can listen to streams as I go through the rather mindnumbing task. There were 10 files for the main story remaining so I tasked myself to script 2 files per day. Each file varied from as little as 150 lines (like 1 file) to 200 lines (most files) to 300+ lines (1 ending) and completing 2 files/day took about 6-8 hours.

Scripting mistakes result in both above and below. ...This is what I get for calling MC's sprite "mcs" and the male extra sprite "ms" One missing letter gives me a black shadow jumpscare.

The Side B scripting was a bit forgiving. It's only 28 pages compared to Scenes 5-6's 55 pages. So altogether Side B only took me 2 days for first pass scripting. That gave me time during the rest of the week to draw... new art assets... that I realized I needed during scripting. Some of them weren't required, but I felt would make a scene flow better.

And since I'm an artist?

Of course I did all 19 of them.

Wait, this wasn't updated- Just trust that I did 19 new image assets, including 3 new sprites 😂

Here are some previews. Is that a familiar character? Maybe~

So yeah, I've coded and scripted in all the new art, but I haven't tested everything yet. I plan to do that when I add in the soundbites.

A Sky of Falling Birds

...Still don't know what sort of visual I want for the game so I just started making sprites and lineart. I might make a demo with just the flat color at this rate tbh.

I got some positive reactions on their sprite sketches, so that makes me shy happy ;//v//;

Peter Pan Project = P^3

Still no title, but I've gotten used to calling it P^3 right now haha.

I didn't get very far with this project in the last 3 weeks, but about a third-half the story is outlined.

The story comes in 2 parts. The first part is 2/3rds outlined (1.7k+ words). The second half of the story is two bullet points lol. Granted, The second half may be a rapid descend to a conclusion. The planning document is already 2.3k+ words, which surprised a few folks...? I think my longest planning document was 11k+ words.

Hopefully next time I update, I'll have more info to share.

[Fan Projects]

Not too much/anything I can show yet as project rules have me not sharing until specific dates. It will be for Ace Attorney and D. Gray Man c:

#devlog #vnlink #vndev #visual novel #syvnh #sfb

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thorntopieces · 7 months

Note

So quick question

Would you happen to have a fic with good descriptions of what your version of the colours look like?

Or would you be willing to write that up?

Note: this is long lmao. Quick question, long answer /lh

I don't, as of yet, though one is in the works! It's one of the things I've been really struggling with! So far I have an illustration of Vio done (done by my girlfriend @mydmdcorner ) but we'll probably get to drawing the others soonish! I'm more than happy to give a description though!

They also have slightly different blond(e) hair colours, with Blue's being the palest and Vio's the darkest.

Red (he/him): he's the smallest of the bunch (but really we're talking about differences in millimetres and centimetres here, they're all small)! In A Brief Respite, he's described as the one that looks the most like their grandpa! His eyes are blue, lighter than Blue's. His hair is short but curly/wavy. I'll attach photos and other references under a read-more! He's also got freckles. As for his tunic, it looks very much like the one presented in the Four Swords Manga, though it now has 3/4 sleeves and has a normal hood (to replace the stupid Link hat, I just think it's silly). When he's sleepy or shy, he'll hide in the hoodie. The only reason the tunics are 3/4 sleeve lengths is because he kept burning the ends of the sleeves when they were full. No more long sleeves for Red. He also has some of the same piercing holes as Vio (helix piercings), but instead of having amethyst studs, it's golden hoops/rings.

Blue (she/her): Blue's a tricky case. She got into the Minish magic in an attempt to change her body to fit her gender which had some. Interesting consequences. She's kind of surrounded by a permanent glamour of the weirdest kind, so despite being female, she appears entirely male (short hair etc). She wants to grow her hair out tho (but only to a length that's still practical). She has dark blue eyes. She does not have freckles and her hair has the barest hint of waves. Her tunic is also similar to the manga, but she wears a different, thinner belt higher up on her waist (to make it look like she has wider hips) and her tunic is the longest of them all, brushing the tops of her knees. She currently has no piercings.

Green (he/him): My favourite sleepy boy. He more or less looks exactly like the manga version of Four Swords LInk. He's got green eyes with golden spots in them. He's also ditched the hat, but has the same hood that Four has, with the Ezlo decoration at the end. He's a sleepy boy, so the hood is long enough to fully cover his eyes if he needs to lay down to rest in the middle of the day. The shirt he wears under the tunic has longer sleeves so he can hide his hands. His boots are also more padded so walking is less exhausting/hurts less.

Vio (they/them): Has the longest hair of them all currently. It just brushes their collarbone. The front parts are braided and kept secure with magnetic beads that can be used to clip the hair back. They wear a similar tunic to LU!Four. The bottom part is also flared/split into multiple pieces to ease movement. They wear a thicker belt, but not the same one from the manga. On their hip they wear purple and black kinstone-shaped gems. They've got purple eyes and freckles, although less freckles than Red. They also wear the most piercings in their ears. I might still redesign their tunic some. I really like the tunic design for ASAU!Legend (note: ASAU is rated M/18+), so I might take inspiration from that when I get around to drawing Vio myself.

Hope that helps some! I've left a couple image references below the read more for you! I don't have the spoons to image describe them currently, but I might get that done within the next day or so. If that's an immediate issue, I'll try to get it done tonight!

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim this as my art, this is the initial tunic redesign sketch me and my gf did as we tried to figure stuff out. It's redrawn over one of JoJo's (@/linkeduniverse) drawings of Four. Please do not see this as my art. The headband should also not be there for my Vio. Oops.

This is another drawing of Vio. The hair is wrong. Disregard that please. Vio also doesn't have ears. Oops. This is my girlfriend's art. (The Minish you see is Bubble, you can meet them in the first chapter of Dark Hair Significance)

This is my current profile picture and is of Vio! Here you can see the piercings Vio has, too. The Minish tail/feather isn't one they commonly wear. They left that behind in their Hyrule to keep it safe. Depending on the day, they do the braids a little different. This drawing was also done by my girlfriend.

This hairstyle is roughly what I imagine for Red, maybe a bit shorter (Source: Gentlemen's Magazine).

And of course a reference for the Manga.

#asks and answers #anon!!

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paintcloset · 5 months

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Drawing Station 1

This is the station I had been waiting the longest to finally start doing! I was expecting what i expect most often, what is considered as academic drawing but was kinda delightfully surprised to have a good mix of both so far!

First lesson, Walk and draw

First assignment, easy enough! Take a bunch of paper, go walk around, capture!

I enjoyed this a lot more than I thought I would actually, felt like letting go and just letting the pen flow, as if just working with my subconscious. I realized at one point that I was basically doing people watching on x games mode. As people walk by me, i captured their jackets, their conversations, ect. Walking around the academy I law a lot of wires and electronics, and i liked focusing on that linear aspect combined with the people that i drew.

After drawing we came in and got tape to connect all of our pieces. I really liked the almost electrical tape that i took, and i ripped into thin pieces which I layed out over the exhisting wires that i drew, giving them more shape and dirrection. I also used this to connect all of the disjunkt drawings, making all the exhisting wires connect in a loop. A closed circut if you will!

Second Lesson, Figure Drawing

Exhiting doesn't begin to describe how I felt about this class. I have never done live model drawing at this intensity, by size and time and skill. As well that it was nude drawing I was also shitting bricks because the model was naked and I got very nervouse.

The first page was a warm up where we had to follow the models movement, kinda just in energy and then we got cracking to quick poses. I loved sketching this big even though it ment I couldn't work into the drawing more. Also after this class I realized that I had gotten quicker and more accuret at drawing people! So bonus on that

BONUS ROUND! Station Skill, Digital Model Drawing

What do I do the next day after my first time model drawing? I go and I do it again of course!

I liked how this class had a lot more focuse on shadow and light and capturing figure rather than only capturing the model. The first drawing was to me, a warm up, and the biggest challende here now was fighting photoshop since I had never painted in it before.

Word of advice that I realized right about now in drawing station, never ever look at other peoples work WHILE you're still working on yours. I kept glancing over at other people's work and being like DAMN. It wasn't that I was doing something wrong either, we were all just painting differently, but in the moment it always feels like you're doing the wrong thing.

Also I squeezed into this class without regestering cus I just wanted to attend it so bad lol. Really like Victor's classes and I'd like to attend more. He gave me the greenlight to show up unregistered btw! some people just always skip without unregestering

Third Lesson, Tree of Words

She said pick a word and surprise me!

The day before this lesson I had been experimenting with ink and how to capture and essense of allusivness as well as barely being there. So decided with the first drawing to carry on with that. I don't actualy remember what word I picked, but I'm preatty sure it was shame. So person in ink falling to their death? maybe!

After looking over at other people working (against my own advice), I saw how much of a fluffy edge you can get when working with charcoal. I'm not a big fan of working with charcoal due to how messyyyyy it gets but alas I was really after this fluffy barely there effect. Took the plunge and refrence some old old photos of a friend from 2021. I tried to make a big contrast and try to demonstrate the snow from the photos but idk how good that attempt was. I can always try again!

Forth Lesson, Model Drawing Part Two

3rd time doing model drawing is a lot less intimidating. This lesson I tried more on capturing not only figure but also shadows and dimension. I also realized I gotta scale down no matter how much I love going bigger, I just dont have enough time to work into the drawings on such a scale. I think a lot of these would have looked more rendered and better looking if I just had more time. But oh well! you live and you learn.

#fine art #traditional art #classwork #drawing #figure drawing #live figure drawing

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lgwebcabinet · 2 years

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Human Decomposition

One of the main parts of my game, whether obvious or not, is that there is a corpse inside of the arcade machine that the player plays. Unlike what might be expected of that previous sentence, the person is rotting away inside the cabinet willingly and they ‘died’ in there on their own accord. With the concept I have I had to make some exceptions to how dead bodies actually decompose in real life as that would mean that the parts inside the machine would have to be changed far too frequently, and the arcade game would be faulty by that logic far too frequently (not to mention how suspicious it would be to see that many disappearances in that specific arcade, as well as the build up of rotting remains inside the machine).

For the purposes of the game, I’d say the timeframe of the game running on one set of organs would be somewhere between 5-10 years, assuming it’s in an alternate reality where arcades didn’t start losing popularity due to home consoles in the late nineties. Obviously the organs would not make it that far while still being intact, so all science can be thrown out of the window with the main premise of the game, but it would still be interesting to see in the best case scenario how long it would last (assuming you could actually make a functioning arcade machine with human organs).

Assuming that there is no blood supply to the organs and that the environment is cold (around zero to three degrees Celsius), the heart and lungs would be the first to go as they rely the most on oxygen being carried to and from them via blood. The would last about four hours, maybe another four at best, before they become damaged and beyond a passable condition to be used. The next to go is the liver, which lasts up to twelve hours in optimal conditions before it can no longer be of use, followed next by the intestines which can last up to sixteen hours or only half of that in worse conditions. Next up is the pancreas, which can last somewhere between twelve and eighteen hours before being unusable. Finally the longest lasting organ is the kidneys, which can be stored in a cold environment for somewhere between twenty four and thirty six hours before they can no longer be used. This data is referring to organ transplants, and no doubt the data would be different if the organs were still in use and had a steady supply of an electrical current keeping the heart pumping blood throughout the organs via wires.

If the harvested organs have a steady blood flow then their likelihood to survive increases greatly. In fact, there are already machines that help them stay functional between transplants, and also helps doctors to see if there are any issues with the organs before they give them to someone else. This prevents them from throwing away organs that are perfectly good to use after they have been harvested from someone. In 1935, cat and bird organs were kept alive in a machine for 21 days at a regular body temperature by Charles Lindberg and Alexis Carrel. Furthermore, the idea of keeping organs running inside of a machine has been around since Leonardo Da Vinci was alive, as he supposedly sketched the idea in his notebooks. As far as I can tell, human organs cannot be kept at a stable condition for as long as 21 days, but it still is a step closer to the concept of the game being slightly less bizarre.

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vossers · 2 years

Note

artist asks 1,5, and 16? adore your work btw <3

1. Show your most recent wip

it’s very messy, but this is a short comic ive been working on (its supposed to be like 5 pages but ive only sketched out 2 so far)

5. Anything you haven't drawn yet but want to?

these two!! theyre so pretty and perfect and i’ve been meaning to draw them for the longest but have never gotten around to it

16. What's the most daunting part of your process? Ex, planning, sketching, lineart, rendering etc

coloring/shading most definitely! i get very impatient with my works and abandon a lot of them due to me not wanting to spend too long on just one piece (i get too many ideas and wanna immediately move onto the next). thats why you’ll see a lot of black and white pieces from me!

also thank you so much!! everyones kind words and comments really do make my day ^^

#naruto #artist asks #madara #hashirama senju #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakairu #iruka umino #kkir #naruto art #iruka

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lilblueorchid · 3 years

Photo

Thought process and easter egg on the Digimon Anniversary Illustration!

Hello everyone, today I feel like explaining some stuff over my Digimon Illustration, mostly why I drew thing this way or point out some little details and easter eggs you might have missed. ;)

Click on read more if you want a LENGTHLY explanation with a lot of rambling from me, or if not you can just enjoy the process gif. <3

The Digimon illustration was a special one for me for different reasons. Firstly, obviously, Digimon! It was a show I grew up with, and I find it quite fitting that after a tough year of graduation movie under a pandemic, in which I really experienced the pain of growing up, I ended up finding back Digimon.

Secondly, as a child, I remember spending HOURS looking for fanarts online! I would save all the ones I found pretty and keep them preciously, i still have the folders actually haha. While pursuing art, I always had in mind thatI wanted one day to make a fanart my child self would have gone crazy over! And, i think I achieved that with that one haha.

Anyway LET’S START! Shall we?

First off : the illustration process

When I do an illustration I always do a quick draft first, and most of the time, in colors. I think I’m more of a “color” person than a “line” person, I tend to need to see colors quickly in order to see if it’s ok.

For this one, I’ve always had in mind it would be a double illustration, with the older Tai’s silhouette acting as a frame for the children illustration. It was a bit tricky, I had to make the children illustration fit nicely into his silhouette, it was hassle around the neck area, that’s why I made little Taichi stand up haha. Also used Mimi’s hat to balance the picture : the bottom part is very heavy and there’s only sky in the upper part, adding the hat helps making it more balanced.

The character were the longest and the most challenging part by far. As you can see I had 3 different steps : super rough, they’re almost like stickmen and smiley face, a more detailled one in which I figure out their actual pose and anatomy, then a last one in which I fix some proportion, add details and clean. Fun fact I don’t clean over a new layer... i just erase the unwanted part of my sketch. :’D

I did a quick pass over the BG after that, then I colored the characters in flat colors before rendering them. It was a back and forth between the BG and the characters to make sure everything was working together nicely.

Now was the time to render the BG, I did the tramway first, the flower field after. Fun fact, I did my flower field study in order to know how to approach the flowers in this illustration! If your have the time, i totally recommend finding a photograph close to the kind of BG you wanna do, and make a study of it so you can try your hand at it first and go into your own BG later with an idea of how to approach this.

Adjust colors, add flower petals and butterflies and emotional text, slap over a paper texture, and THERE. You have it! On to the next part now...

The meaningful details and easter eggs

Be aware there will be spoilers for Digimon Adventure 01 (but I assume you already know it), but also for Digimon Adventure : Last evolution Kizuna, which is the conclusion of the first serie. So read at your own risk!

The tramway is obviously a reference to the end of Digimon Adventure 01. The kids used it to go back to their world, so It was their goodbye to their Digimon at this moment. In Kizuna, Tai and Matt find the tramway trapped in crystal in Menoa’s fake memory world. Hinting that had they been caught by her, their memories would have brought them back here.

Tailmon has Kari’s whistle! At the end of Digimon Adventure 01, Kari gives it to her as a memento.

When I drew Sora, I had in mind how she was in Kizuna, very stressed out by her mom’s expectation, which led her to neglect Piyomon. She realized it too late, and after that she refused to fight because she wanted to keep Piyomon with her as long as possible. Tragically, she was the first one to lose her Digimon. Here I tried to convey a softness and a kind of “I won’t forget to appreciate you” vibe in the way she holds Piyomon’s hand. As for Mimi and Palmon, in Digimon adventure 01 Palmon was very emotionally affected by Mimi’s departure, so, a hug was fitting. :’)

The screens on the Tramway display DA for Digimon Adventure, and also 01.08.1999 which is the date of the children’s journey’s beginning. :)

The little drawings also show the 8 crests.

There are butterflies flying over the illustration, it’s a reference to Butter-fly, the first Digimon opening, by the late Koji Wada.

"I'll become a happy butterfly, and ride on the glittering wind, I'll come and see you soon. “

Now, let’s the see the counterpart of the illustration. The one with the grown up Tai from Kizuna.

I made him wear the hoodie he had in his very last adventure with Agumon.... but truthfully the reason is that I think hoodies are cool lol. And the hood’s volume gave me more space in the silhouette, which made it easier for me to do the other illustration inside.

You don’t see it clearly, but he is holding his Digivice, albeit the darkened version once his partner bond with Agumon is broken. The Tai in this illustration has already lost Agumon. (Yes it was painful for me to go fetch the screenshots)

He is also holding his dear signature google he used to wear as a child. Fun fact, I rewatched the older movies, and as a kid he even used to sleep with it, how cute haha.

Also yes, the crest of Courage over his hand, which is his own. I’m so dumb I realize I should have made the time counter from the movie instead of the crest for a maximum emotional hurt impact.

And the quote is from one of the trailer for Kizuna, I think.....................

But then you go : Oh that illustration is so depressing then! Well. Yes. But no. but yes. But not really.

One of my favorite shot of the movie is this one : this is after Tai and Agumon learn their time together is limited. Agumon asks him if they will have to go separate ways once Tai is all grown up. Tai doesn’t answer, and takes him to eat something instead, as Agumon was hungry. In this shot Agumon eats to his heart content next to Tai, who’s not eating at all and just watches him fondly. I love that the framing doesnt show agumon. It’s a foreshadowing of their unavoidable separation.

At the very end of the movie, Tai write in his thesis about Human and Digimon’s relationship that Agumon was like a part of himself.

In a way, Agumon symbolizes childhood, the carefree days we would spend as a kid, with our big dreams and hopes. When you grow up, you tend to forget those simple emotions because you get swallowed into the stress of studies, figuring out your carreer, your life path. Just like us, Tai forgot this part of himself. In the madness of growing up, he lost Agumon.

However, it’s not the end. He will pick himself back up. He will move forward in life despite his worries and incertainities, and he will find himself again. Therefore, he will find Agumon again. The kids in the illustration are waving goodbye, but it’s not goodbye, it’s a see you later. In the meantime, Tai is holding on to these precious memories, until they meet again.

#Digimon #Digimon adventure #Yagami Taichi #Digimon adventure : last evolution kizuna #illustration process #kinda analysis #listen im actually writing this for myself #I spend 4 days on that illu with a lot of feels and I need to write them down #This is basically what my close friends have to endure each time I get an obsession

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vintage-writes · 3 years

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Because it's You (Part 1) | H.P. Lovecraft x Reader

Request: "BSD Lovecraft x female reader. What if the reader isn’t afraid of him and asks to see his true form and she thinks his true form looks cool? Soulmate au. Fluff to smut. Maybe he could use his ability in the smut part if that’s ok?"

Pairing: H.P. Lovecraft x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Soulmate AU), From birth you're soulmate has always been a mystery even his mark was hard to decipher but as he stands before you, you realize that there is far more to the man they call Lovecraft.

Warnings: NSFW, Fluff to Smut. The smut is right at the end so you are able to read until the warning. Dom!Lovecraft x Brat!Reader 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3363

A/N: By Far my longest fic yet and one of the more interesting ones to write. Lovecraft strikes me as a character that cares deeply but says very little when speaking with his s/o. As Always, Enjoy :)

“Soulmate Au, where you have a mark on your wrist that represents your soulmate that becomes colour when you meet them”

From birth you’ve always had a rather strange mark. Your parents figured that perhaps when you were older the mark would look a bit different but instead it remained in the strange shape. The mark appears to be sludge? A flower? It’s a rather messy pile of something, topped with bat wings? You’ve sat and tried to decipher it for years up until today, you’re still unsure as to what it could represent.

You even took up art classes and tried to redraw the mark with different shapes and colours. At the end of the day, you’re not sure what it means. You only hope that it’s not a pile of drugs topped with wads of cash or something. You wouldn’t want your soulmate to be some sort of drug dealer. In any case, those art classes paid off and you’re currently in charge of your own studio.

You walk down the street and breathe in the damp Yokohama air. The air is musty but it’s to be expected as your current route for the day leads you past the port. The port is loud and chatty, people are gossiping everywhere about Yokohama’s most recent events. You pick up keywords here and there such as: “Port Mafia”, “Guild”, “detectives” and so on and so forth.

You spot a nearby Hawker selling newspapers and you decide to ask him about the commotion. The man holds out a newspaper with an incredulous look. “You don’t know? It’s about the whale that dropped out of the sky the other day. Some organization from overseas was behind it. They’re also linking it to a car crash in the mountains. Bah! But I know nothing. You’ll have to buy a paper to know more.”

You give him your own incredulous look before purchasing a paper. You skim it as you walk and learn about the hero Agency. As you flip over the page your eye catches onto the photo. A tall figure shrouded in black is standing next to a short ‘farm boy’. The photo is somewhat grainy but clear enough to see that the man has sharp features. He looks quite handsome.

You shake your head. No. He’s a criminal. You skim through the rest of the article but the photo is just so eye-catching. You run a finger over the image. He has long hair that blends into his coat. It’s hard to tell just how long his hair is. A mysterious aura surrounds such a person, perhaps if you are lucky, you could one day sketch the planes of his face.

Right, because you’re definitely going to chase down the mystery man just to draw him. You roughly bundle up the newspaper and shove it into your bag. You look up and realise that along your walk you’ve obviously gotten a bit lost and have wandered into a deserted part of the harbour. You spin around quickly, intending to retrace your steps when you slam into a wall and topple over.

A wall? But you’ve just come this way. You raise your eyes and meet another pair of sharp purple ones. They are oddly striking. The figure stands in front of you, as tall and immovable as a statue. An odd sensation flushes over you and you suddenly feel as if you know this person. Of course, this is the striking man from the paper. His mysterious aura seems to have followed him off of the page and into reality.

He cocks his head at you, allowing long strands of hair to fall. His hair is as dark as ink and much longer than you had assumed.

“Sorry”, he mutters and extends his right hand towards. The invitation warms your heart. You swallow down the feeling, you’ve only met the man.

You latch on to his hand as he lifts you up gently. His fingers are very long and slender. He has the hands of an artist. They are also freezing cold. He looks down and pauses and while not letting go of your hand, he turns your intertwined hands so his wrist faces upwards. A beautiful Iris adorns his wrist. The colours are breathtaking in your eyes. The Iris is a truly a beautiful flower and his specific mark has captured the varying hues of purple and blue perfectly. It is your favourite flower and the flower that gave its name to your studio and a collection of paintings you’ve created.

You want to run your fingers over it but before you can do that, he flips his wrist over so that your mark now faces upwards. The odd mark has now been graced with an assortment of light greens. With shading the mark has become both clearer and yet all the more confusing. He eyes your mark and then his before he finally raises his eyes to meet your own. He scans your face before he lets go of your hand.

He leans down to pick up your bag before placing it into your arms. And without a word, he spins on his heel and begins to walk away.

What? Where the fuck does he think he’s going?

You sling your bag over your shoulder and follow after him. “Uh Hey, wait!”, you shout after him. “Can we talk?”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as you begin to jog to match his speed. You jog beside him but he seems intent on marching forward with his long legs. You’re sure he would walk through a wall at this rate.

“Please wait, can we just talk for two minutes? I’m not sure what I did but maybe if you tell me, I can fix it.”

Nothing. Talking really isn’t your strong suit but you absolutely have to speak to this man. His hard features barely flinch. You’re beginning to feel flustered and tears are welling up at the back of your eyes.

“Oi, Lovecraft, ‘been looking for you everywhere!”, a shout echoes.

The man, Lovecraft, finally stops in his tracks and looks back. A shorter man in overalls is sauntering down the pathway with a cocky smile on his face. Lovecraft looks him over once before turning his attention towards you.

“You should leave-”, he suddenly stops.

His eyes widen as he sees you. Your face has reddened and a few tears have slipped past. His face makes you want to cry harder and you bite your lower lip in frustration. He sighs before turning towards the other man and stepping in front of you.

“Go away, John.”

John throws him a confused look. He begins to circle you both but Lovecraft proceeds to shield you from the other’s sight.

“Now”,says Lovecraft.

John throws up his hands in surrender and says, “Alright. Alright. I’m leaving but you stay safe pal.”

He then turns and leaves but not without a few glances your way but Lovecraft doesn’t move until he’s out of sight.

Lovecraft turns and looks at you and you feel dwarfed by his size. He sighs, “Fine, two minutes.”

______________________________

You weren’t sure what exactly you wanted to say nor are you sure how serious he is about the time limit. Not wanting to try and win over your soulmate near the harbour surrounded by the tangy smell of oil and fish, you offer to go elsewhere to talk. He agrees and he follows you in silence. You decide that the time spent on the way doesn’t count. You walk side by side and he attracts a few curious looks. The hawker who sold you the newspaper gawks at you as you walk past obviously noticing the resemblance to the picture. You speed up your pace and decide to loop back to your design studio.

You unlock the door and step inside while gesturing to him to follow but his eyes are glued to the sign above the door. More specifically the iris flower that was painted on. The Logo of your design studio.

You laugh awkwardly, “Uhh yeah, I like Iris flowers. I like most plants in general but I think the iris is the best. I made an art series dedicated to the flower and it became quite popular so when I opened the studio I decided to use it as my logo.”

“This is your studio?”

He steps in and scans the surroundings. The studio is messy and you feel embarrassed for not cleaning it up better. Your studio is situated in an old building with tall windows that allow light to filter through. It’s nothing more than a few rooms stuffed with equipment, tables and chairs but it’s your pride and joy. Nothing has pleased you more in the past year then being able to teach students how to paint.

“Yeah, it’s not much.”

“Can I see the paintings?”

You smile sheepishly, “Unfortunately, they’re not here at the moment. They’re at the Art gallery. I do have one piece though that I kept for myself.”

You walk out the room and he trailers after you as you step into your private studio. On the back wall is a canvas with a foreboding size. It looms over the room but the colours are bright and peaceful. It depicts a field of blue and purple Iris flowers, with the closest one being painted in excruciating detail. Lovecraft doesn’t move but simply studies his wrist instead as though comparing the two images.

“So I guess, that’s where the Mark comes from”, you look down at your own mark, a creature that seems indescribably horrifying, “may I ask what this means?”

Lovecraft narrows his eyes at your wrist, “A very good reason to stay away from me. I’m not human.”

You stare at him. His tone doesn’t sound teasing but surely it’s a joke? Have you misread the room?

“I should go”

“NO!” you lunge forward and grab onto the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m not scared or anything.”

Perhaps the situation is strange but you were willing to put in the effort. You lick your chapped lips, his eyes lock onto this particular movement.

“Can we please just try.”

He stares at you carefully before nodding his head.

_______________________

Three months go by and you see him almost everyday. Sometimes he only visits you briefly between classes, sometimes he spends the day in the studio quietly sitting in the corner. He does very little but he constantly keeps watch. Generally though he is sleeping in the corner with his feet propped up while you hum a tune. He almost never bothers you. You also discovered that he has quite the liking for chocolate and ice cream. He often brings you sweet treats as a gift but eats them himself. You’ve decided to keep a few tubs of ice cream at the studio now.

While you two become closer you also took some initiative to look into the Guild which led you down a path of learning about Gifted. Eventually you convinced him to start going out with you. He seems unfamiliar with Japanese food and frankly, Japan as a whole.You are determined to show him what life is like in Yokohama. Today, you’ve convinced him to follow you to the beach.

“So the Guild is disbanded?”

He looks up at you surprised before he responds, “I never really worked for the Guild, I worked for Francis. We had a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“Doesn’t matter now. The contract has been fulfilled,” he says. Lovecraft has a very strange way of talking. He speaks as little as possible and formally so. Sometimes it feels as though he is speaking in code though.

“Does this contract have to do with you not being human?”, you bite your lip as you throw the question out. This isn’t a subject you’ve touched on again.

“Yes”

“If you’re not human then what are you?”

“I’m not sure what humans would call me”, he pauses before standing up. The breeze catches onto his hair causing it to flutter around him. He faces you with his back to the sea and watches with a smoldering gaze, “Would you like to see.”

You nod. You do not wish to use words fearing that the nervousness you feel would reveal itself. It’s not exactly that you’re scared of him. If anything, you are more scared that your reaction may scare him. He has never been quite so vulnerable.

Slowly, his figure changes. His arms take on a green hue and begin to elongate. His neck straightens up and his eyes sink into his head. While he may have been tall before, nothing could quite prepare you for the creature he’s become. A mass of tentacles of an indescribable horror.

And you simply sit and stare. He does not remain like this for long though. Almost as though he is frightened that you may be scared, his figure shifts back to his original form.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. But his true matches the mark on your wrist exactly. You approach him but he seems wary. Perhaps, in the past his real form has frightened many people.

You stop and watch him instead. This is the same man who brings you chocolate ice cream every week and then eats it all. Will nap the entire day before waking up and going to dinner with you. Will sleep through an entire movie with his head in your lap while you slip your fingers through his hair. You don’t think you could ever be scared of him.

“Are you scared?”

You shake your head as you step in front of him. “I think you look cool.”

He gives you an incredulous look while holding up his arm which slips into his other form by the turn of his wrist. Your hand gravitates toward it and you run a finger over the length. It’s smooth.

“I really do”, you say and cup his cheeks into your hand. It’s a bit of a stretch up but his look of surprise is precious. “It’s amazing, because it’s you.”

______ (18+)

The Door slams open as Lovecraft drags you into your bedroom. He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind you as he lifts you up and drops you onto the bed. You land heavily and bounce a little. Lovecraft eyes you as he slips his tie and coat off. You feel like a rabbit caught in a trap.

He sheds his shirt off as well but before his hand reaches his belt, he stops.

“You do it.”

A man of little words but infinite power. You nod and slip your loose hair behind your ears. You crawl to the edge of the bed and slip your finger into one of his belt loops, tugging him forward. You lick your lips and decide to make a bold move. He watches you with curious eyes and a heated gaze as you tug him even closer. With one hand you swiftly unbutton his pants but lean forward and bite onto his zipper.

You glance upwards through your eyelashes as you slowly move downwards. The sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the silent room, Lovecraft feels impossibly still beneath you. With his black pants moved to the side you flatten your tongue against his clothed cock. Lovecraft moans in surprise and slips his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t tug, simply hovers and suddenly it occurs to you that perhaps this is new territory for him.

You slip his half hard cock out of his underwear and run your tongue over the shaft but he quickly pulls you away by your hair.

“You don’t have to do that.”

You lick your lips and send him a wink, before leaning forward again and slipping the head into your mouth and sucking.Your tongue swirls around his cockhead. He groans.

He twitches in your mouth but once again he pulls you back by your hair, leans down and kisses you roughly. His movements feel desperate as he devours you. He pushes you back onto the bed and begins to strip off your clothes.

His long fingers slide everything off and even snaps a few threads in your shirt. You're left in nothing but your underwear.

One hand traces from your jawline, through the valley of your breasts and slips even lower to hook into your underwear before tearing it off with one swift tug.

“You are looking very pretty for me.”

“Who says it’s for you”, you shoot back.

He smirks. His deep purple eyes penetrate you and he pushes you onto your back. His arms cage you in as he hovers over you. You shrink back into the bed.

“Oh”, he says, his hair falling over his shoulder and brushing against your naked skin. You shiver at the touch but he dips his head down and grazes his teeth against your earlobe before whispering, “you don’t want to look pretty for me?”

“Perhaps I’m looking pretty for men.”

His eyes flash dangerously. “Oh, my sweet, let me show you why other boys cannot compare.”

Fuck, for someone whos diving into new territory, he certainly knows how to set you on fire.

He dives for your neck and licks a line from your collarbone to your jawline.

“Sweet.”

He nips at the skin of your neck before finally moving down to your breasts where he suckles each one into his mouth. His other hand slips between your thighs and he begins to rub your clit. He reaches further down and coats his hand in your slick. He chuckles before breathing against your ear, “You’re so wet.”

You gasp out as his finger slips into you, it’s so long and so cold that the sudden intrusion has you jerk your hips away. But he grabs your hips roughly with his other hand and pins you down onto the bed.

“Don’t tease me”, you whine.

He smiles, “I’m preparing you.”

He stretches you out nicely. All the while he alternates between giving you soft pecks and kisses and devouring your breasts. You keen and whine beneath him as he touches every part of you in the most exciting ways.

Suddenly he grasps his cock, dripping with precum, and gives it a few pumps while reaching into his back pocket for a condom packet. He brings it to his lips and rips open the packet with his teeth. His eyes do not leave yours as he slips the condom on. He lines himself up with your sloppy entrance. He doesn’t move further but instead leans over you more to cradle you into his arms. With a soft peck to your forehead he asks, “Are you ready?”

You kiss him flush on the lips in silent consent. He still doesn’t move so you pull away and whisper into his ear, “Fuck Me”

He chuckles before pushing his cock to your entrance. It’s big. It’s very big and you whine a little as the head pops in. He thrusts back and forth, rubbing you raw while he places little kisses on your collarbone. You mewl on the bed as your nails begin to dig into his back. It feels so good but he’s so big. You are so full.

Finally he bottoms out and groans. “Forgive me.”

He pushes back before slamming back into you. You cry out as he begins his brutal pace. Harsh slapping sounds fill the room as he groans into your ear over and over again. He bites down onto your shoulder as you both finish. He pulls out and throws the condom away. He’s barely drenched in sweat but his hair is plastered to his face. He brushes it away.

“Still thinking of other boys?” he muses with his deep husky voice.

“Like anyone can compare”, you say.

He hums in approval as he flips you on your stomach. You shoot him a confused look as he reaches for a pillow and slides it beneath your hips. Once again, his large build appears above you, another condom packet at his teeth.

“Lovecraft?”

“Spread”

____________________________________

Image: https://www.zerochan.net/2616047

Tag: @ravenina14

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sumsebien · 3 years

Text

Your Highness pt.5// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: Y/N and Friedrich are still very much in the fairytale stage of their engagement. Of course, that is before the Queen gives her verdict on this match.

warnings: none

a/n: final part of your highness. the next part is “i’ll be in ruins for you” and it’s already up so check that out. oh and here is the duclaux piece i've been writing about. okayyy i’m too excited i am posting this right now :))))

When you and Anthony told Lord Wilson of your decision, he was happy for you and even invited you to visit his cottage should you ever find yoursef in Scotland. That alleviated parts of the guilt you felt for having strung him along. You wished him all the happiness and fortune before he bid you goodbye and left for his home. After that, you and the Prince had your last dance of the night, both of you trying to keep your giddiness to an absolute minimum as you spun around the room in each other’s arms.

It was utter bliss.

You hadn’t announced the news to the world just yet. So far, the only people who knew of your engagement were your family and Friedrich. And you intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Everyone was happy. Mama and Daphne were on board the moment they learned that you would remain close, most of the time, for them to visit. Benedict was just glad you had found your match and that you were generous enough to lend him that oil set. Colin was slightly sad that you’d not be living in a splendid castle in Prussia and allow him a tour whenever he made a stop on one of his continental tours. Little Hyacinth was most excited of all, always wondering what you were going to do the moment you became a Princess. Gregory usually answered before you could, resulting in a chase around the house.

As for you, you found yourself singing alone as you sketched in your notebook all the things that reminded you of Friedrich. And it had only been the morning after the engagement. You could not wait for noon to arrive so that you may see him again for the private tour of Somerset.

“Someone’s happy,” Benedict remarked, falling against the empty seat next to you.

“She has been singing all morning!” Eloise said, looking up from her book.

You smiled, ignoring them and went on with your humming.

“Miss Bridgerton?” Humbolt appeared at the entrance to the drawing room. “From Prince Friedrich, my Lady.”

“Yes?” You stood, leaving your notebook behind on the couch.

From behind him, Humbolt picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers, almost as tall as he was. You hadn’t even fully registered the impressive stature of it yet and Mama was already touching the flowers and sniffing them.

“Darling, this must be very expensive,” she said, pointing at the two-toned roses in white and pink, along with the vibrant pops of blue from the cornflowers. The bouquet was finished with gardenias, adding a wonderful aroma to the room almost immediately.

“But why cornflowers and roses?” Eloise asked and all of you turned to Mama for an answer.

“Roses are the national flower of England as cornflowers are to Prussia.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth just looking at him like so. You decided to sit down on the bench behind you and began to sketch him, “after that day, I went to the library and did my reasearch. Antoine Jean Duclaux, at the time he painted this, was only a student accompanying a more famous artist. While his teacher painted a Queen playing music, Duclaux made a portrait of her from the back. Perhaps so grief-stricken by the recent loss of her dear friend that she could not show her face.” The graphite version of Friedrich was coming to life and you had all the intentions of repainting it onto a canvas. You tried to capture his gentleness with the way his fingers curled ever so gently as well as his strength held mainly in his shoulders. The Friedrich before you had caught onto what you were doing by now. “You’re supposed to draw something that inspires you! That’s the only reason why we are here, my dear!” “I know! And I am doing just that!” He had no objections to remaining still and allowing you to complete your sketch. It didn’t take as long as you made him believe it would. The last five minutes you spent admiring him but he did not have to know that. After you were done, your family arrived to the Duclaux piece. Friedrich joined Hyacinth and Gregory and messed about in the room while you stood next to Benedict. “I don’t have favorites but if I did, you would be my favorite sister, you know that?” Benedict whispered to you when you came to stand by his side. “Do you love me? Or do you love him?” You motioned towards Friedrich who was now helping Hyacinth with her revenge. “Both of you I adore. For you have such fine taste in arts and in people,” he smiled, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You chuckled, about to tease him further when the your guide stopped talking. Through the door came a guard who cleared his voice, looking to Friedrich, “your Royal Highness, the Queen has requested your presence at once.” Before he turned to you, “And yours, Miss Bridgerton.” Dear readers, This Author believes she has uncovered a royal engagement made in secret. It is not hard to guess who the two lovebirds might be in this town. This morning a large bouquet of flowers was sent to the Bridgerton House. Large enough to mean more than just courting. Should the Prince have found himself a Princess so soon? And in someone other than the Diamond of the Season, as well. How very scandalous!

You remembered the nerves you felt waiting behind the tall white ornate doors with Mama and Daphne. You had tried your best not to mess up and in doing so, you paid no mind to your footing which resulted in you almost falling to the ground in front of her Majesty. It wasn’t as much of a disaster as Miss Featherington who fainted at her feet but it was enough to make a terrible and no doubt, lasting impression on her.

You just didn’t expect yourself to be here again. Behind those white doors, engaged to her nephew, you were going to go in and explain yourself to her the reason why you two had hid the engagement from her and have her found out through reading Whistledown. No amount of sophistication and elegance could save you now.

Before you were due inside, you tugged at Friedrich’s hand. He, for one, was not nervous at all, still smiling. The crinkles by his eyes and the dimples by his cheeks offered you a moment of peace. “And what would your mother say? When the Queen tells her that we hid an engagement from her?” you asked quietly. At this point, anything that could delay the possibility of losing Friedrich was good enough.

“She is in Prussia and should not be here until I ask her to. When she does, she will love you. And,” he gave your hand a final kiss, “we did not hide anything. I would never hide my love for you. Not from the Queen, not from anyone.”

You nodded before turning to Anthony who gave you a small smile. “It’s going to be alright, sister.” But you could tell he was nervous too from the ways he kept fidgeting with his fingers behind his back.

Echoing from inside the throne room were your names and suddenly the doors swung open, revealing the longest walk you’d ever taken leading up to the throne. The Queen sat leaning back, her watchful eyes burning into you three, but especially you. Beside her was an army of lady’s maids in extravagant gowns, Pomeranians in their arms. You kept your gaze low and made sure that you did not trip and that your curtsy was perfect.

So far, everything went swimmingly. Up until she opened her mouth. “Care to explain what this is, Friedrich?” She snapped her fingers and one of the servants brought forth a copy of Whistledown on a tray.

Friedrich held up his hand to stop the servant from moving any further. “Lady Whistledown was correct to assume we were engaged.”

She laughed, “You are engaged? To her?”

“I asked Miss Bridgerton to marry me last night and she has accepted. We were going to tell you very soon.”

“You proposed last night?” The Queen sat up in her seat, about to storm forward but stopped herself and slumped back, throwing a hand over her forehead, “do my opinions mean so little to you?”

Anyone in their right mind would be scared out of their wits by now. You were sure Friedrich was the only one you had ever met who wasn’t terrified of the Queen. You glanced to him briefly. He kept his gaze steady on her, still calm and collected. “I love her very much. As she loves me. She may not be what you are looking for in a wife for me but she is what I am looking for. I hope we may have your blessing.”

The Queen did not seem like she was listening or like she cared at all. You knew this was headed. Your hand brushed his, knowing the inevitable was on the horizon. He didn’t look at you, his eyes burning into the Queen.

“No. And you,” she looked to you and Anthony. Contempt in her gaze and venom in her words, “you shall leave.”

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer ❤️

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the replies or through messages. love you.

#fun fact the reason why i named the first part your highness was because i had always wanted it to end with Y/N as her highness #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich fanfiction #prince friedrich imagines #prince friedrich imagine #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton

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thenegoteator · 2 years

Text

End of Year Artist Asks

I'm staring down the..... nearly 500..... files I'm itching to sort away into their new folder as the year finishes up. It can be fun and encouraging to look back at a whole year of art and see what you can learn from it, so here are a few questions in case fellow artists want to play along!

1. Compare your first and last pieces from this year! Where do you think you improved?

2. What's one new skill you learned this year?

3. Which piece were you most proud of?

4. Which piece took the longest?

5. Which piece were you most nervous to share?

6. Did you have a favourite subject to draw this year?

7. Are there any unfinished pieces you want to tease?

8. Which piece would you want to redraw and why?

9. Explain the process behind one of your pieces, if you remember!

10. Do you have any art goals for next year?

11. What was the most experimental thing you tried this year? Did it work?

12. Do you have any cute sketches or doodles you especially like?

13. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what kind of thing did you listen to the most?

14. What's one lovely tag or comment you got this year?

15. Did you discover new resources or tutorials this year?

16. Which of your works makes you laugh the most?

17. Are there any pieces that didn't work out? Do you think you'll ever return to them?

18. Did you rework or redraw any ideas from the year before?

19. What new sources of inspiration did you find this year (a friend, an artist you look up to, an aesthetic, a fandom, a fic, etc.)? How did you find them and what did they inspire?

20. Do you share everything that you make? How do you decide what to share?

21. Did you return to any old fandoms or inspirations this year?

22. What was your biggest art project this year?

23. Did you join any challenges or exchanges this year? Do you think you want to do that next year?

24. How do you think your style developed this year? Is it something you're conscious of as you work?

25. Did you have any art goals coming into the year? How far did you achieve them?

26. How many mediums did you work in this year? Did you try out any new ones?

27. Did you become familiar drawing something that was unfamiliar at the beginning of the year? How did you learn?

28. Did you make any new OC designs this year?

29. Which of your OC designs from this year is your favourite?

30. Do you have any concept ideas you haven't started yet?

31. Which aspect of your art did you most want to improve this year? How much improvement do you see?

32. How different is your art now to when you first started out?

33. Which part of your regular workflow is most difficult for you?

34. Which part of your regular workflow do you enjoy the most?

35. Did you do technical studies this year?

36. Did you draw anything cursed or disturbing this year?

37. Did you give your art as a gift to someone? Who was it and how did they react?

38. Share a previously unseen sketch without context.

39. How has your eye for art developed this year? When you look at art (someone else's or your own), do you notice certain aspects first?

40. Which of your pieces do you think was best received this year? How far did you expect that?

41. Are there any pieces that are especially personal to you? Why?

42. Which piece did you have a lot of fun making?

43. Which reference search messed up your Google search history the most?

44. Do people in your in person life know about/see the art that you make? Do you want them to?

45. Do you often find yourself looking at your art? Do you feel any specific way about it?

46. If you make fanart, do you prefer creating alternate universes or sticking close to canon? How come?

47. Is the art you make similar to the art you like to look at? In what way?

48. Did you have a similar workflow for most pieces or did you experiment with the process?

49. What was your biggest motivation for making art this year?

50. How important was your art to you this year? Which part was the most important?

#artist asks #end of year asks #ask me anything #or if you wan to send in a 👀 i'll release the kraken that is my unposted art #i remember that was a fun time last year #she speaks #when this posts i'll be in essay hell. so pls give me something fun to think about once I'm done!

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Ball’s In Your Court

Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader, (platonic tony x reader)

Summary: Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None man. Its fluff and angst. Language (?)

A/N: I was experimenting with the third person P.O.V for reader. Hope it’s to your liking.

MASTERLIST

+++++

For as long as Steve could remember, their life together had been a game; bet after bet, challenge after challenge. He had met her when she was just entering her teens, a little girl with a lost wild look in her eyes. She was in all respects Tony’s daughter, rescued by him from the wreckage of his own weapons. He had almost done a double take when Tony had introduced her to the team.

“This is Y/n, she will stay with us from now”

The compound was not used to the pitter patter of little feet or their furniture appearing embellished overnight. She had lost everything, including it seemed herself. So, their first game ironically had been Hide and Seek. She was small and he lost count of how many times she had bested him by crawling under the cramped spaces of desks or vents (Thanks for teaching her that, Barton).

When Tony had complained about the hundredth time that she just wouldn’t eat, Steve would challenge her that whoever finished their breakfast first could choose the movie for tonight. When she refused to let them leave for missions, he would challenge her to a game of cards. She was too young to win against him but her stubborn streak never turned down a game.

Their every interaction had been a game. They could get each other to do anything by playing chess or softball or a game of Horse that drove everyone else up the wall. He got her to open up about school bullies by besting her at Pictionary and she had effectively gotten him to shut up about healthy food by kicking his ass at video games. They dealt with drama via games (Whoever tosses the least paper balls in the bin tells Bruce we fucked his experiment ), they dealt with humor via games (let’s see who can manage to steal Nat’s gun without getting caught), they dealt with grief via game (if you beat me at Heads Up I’ll let you choose the gravestone).

Growing up, she was Tony’s daughter and Steve’s best friend. While Tony raised her, Steve gossiped with her. They were pals and all was fun and games until she grew up from a little girl into a young woman. Steve didn’t know when things changed but the first he noticed it was when she had run into his arms bawling because some idiot boy broke her heart. It was when he found himself conflicted between anger at the boy and jealousy that this shit started.

He had tried, he had really tried to keep it in check. He had tried to keep up with their game’s night ritual, their silly bets and ridiculous challenges. He had tried his best to be a friend, but this was one challenge he lost. She was no more the 14-year-old girl asking him questions for her history project or the 16-year-old nightmare who would put cockroaches in his bed as revenge. This was a young woman in her 20s with curves for days and an attitude that raised hell. It was a classic falling for your best friend story (if only he weren’t old enough to be her dad or was her dad’s best friend).

He had of course been under the impression that he was being subtle about his change in feelings. He tried not to stare when they went out for a swim, he resisted the urge to lick her lips after a nacho eating contest. He was trying so fucking hard, but as anyone could have told him, “Steve, you don’t have a subtle bone in your body, you frisbee throwing maniac”. She was Tony Stark’s daughter; she was not raised to be stupid. She was smart and observant and almost as quick a study as her father. It was no surprise then that she figured out what had Steve so wound up around her.

Maybe it would have creeped her out had it been anyone else, but Steve was her person. He was her one constant, from kissing her boo-boos to getting her home after she drank herself silly, Steve was there. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve so much then when she cornered him one evening and planted a wet one smack on his mouth with a muttered, “This sexual tension it killing me, gotta do something about it because you won’t”.

He wished he could say he clutched her body to his and dragged her to his room for a wild night of passion. But in reality, he chickened out like a bitch and ran away. Not just from her, but he completely disappeared from the compound for two weeks. When he came back, it was with the intentions of telling her they couldn’t do it, it was wrong and a betrayal to Tony. But Steve needn’t have worried because he came back to the compound to find her introducing the team to her boyfriend.

As far as others know, Steve didn’t deliberately break those glasses that night or push the idiot boy in the pool. It was an accident, and if such accidents kept happening around men she dated then it was purely coincidental.

It was a new kind of game they played then, a more dangerous one and if one’s being honest, a very sensual game. She would date someone; he would scare them away. One of them will find the other, have a passionate make out session, probably end up straddling the other on a desk and then one of them will get up and leave with the same lie “This can’t happen again”. Repeat.

Gone were the days of challenges and competitions, in its place was a sexually charged game of Tag. A cat and mouse game where they always chased each other, touching fleetingly before retreating again. Neither would be the one to make a commitment, neither would concede to being the person who would put their hearts on the line. They were two bulls who were made to butt heads (who occasionally took time off to play a quick game of tonsil-hockey).

Steve had known there had to be an end to this. It had gone on for so long that he could bet other people suspected some shit. He had honestly expected for Tony to sucker punch him half a dozen times by now. Right now, he would have taken those punches to the news she had just given to the team.

“I am getting married!” She announced, offering her left hand so others can admire the gorgeous diamond ring that sat on her ring finger. She looked happy, absolutely radiant and it was all Steve could do to stop himself from dragging her out of here by her hair and throwing that offending ring into the garbage chute. What the fuck kind of game was she playing?

He waited until everyone was asleep before he broke into her room. Well, breaking into would suggest it was forced but truly only him and Tony had the authorization to enter. Their relationship may have changed from ‘you’re my best friend’ to ‘I want to be your best lay’, but they still knew each other the best and cared just as much as before, if not more.

She was under the covers in her bed, a small nightlamp on. It had been a while since Steve had been in her room and it was like taking a big gulp of nostalgia. Her room was her sanctuary, so it reflected her heart’s desires. Every surface of the room was littered with one of their memories together. Her pinboard was still holding the notes he would write to her in school, the birthday cards he made himself and the portraits he would sketch for her. On her desk stood the numerous gifts he had gotten her, each well taken care of despite the years between. Right beside her on the cabinet was a picture of them together, both of them holding hands and smiling at each other in what could only be called as “lovesick smitten idiots”.

He was cautious as he lowered himself next to her on the bed, her face so peaceful he felt like he would taint it by his touch and presence. He had looked at her for years, sketched her details hundreds of times and yet each time he beheld her, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was a memory that he tried to forget and yet it emerged every time he closed his eyes. She was in his skin, a part of him in a way that defied all laws of nature and social customs.

“Are you going to keep staring at me and be the creep from Twilight or do you plan on getting inside?”

Her voice made him jump because she hadn’t opened her eyes. She was smiling that lazy smile of hers when she would catch his bluff in poker. He chuckled and shifted the sheets, climbing under them and curling his body around her. It may as well have been cliché to say that they fit like a puzzle, but it was true. They were molded to fit against each other perfectly, like that lid you close over a box and the satisfying ‘tick’ sound it makes when it clicks into place. That’s what being with her felt like. Fitting in. Coming home.

“Why are you doing this Y/n?” Steve asked and she pushed her body into his so he could hug her tighter.

“Because you won’t do anything Steve. We’ve been running around in circles for so long now, and every time I think that finally we’ll be together, you abandon fort and run. I can’t do this anymore.”

Steve took her left hand and watched her ring twinkle in a taunt. It could have been him. It should be him.

“Don’t marry him. He will never give you what you want.”

“I know that Steve, no one can give me what they want because they aren’t you. But I can’t keep waiting for you in the sidelines hoping you’ll pull your head out of your ass. I want to be loved, preferably in this life.”

His arms were like tentacles around her, but she didn’t complain. Every embrace and moment between them was so fleeting, a stolen moment that she enjoyed what she could get. This was probably the longest in a few years that they had held each other without one running for the hills.

“I love you, you know that.” He whispered in her ear, longing evident in his voice.

“I know that, as much as I know that you won’t do shit about it. Loving someone is not always enough Steve. It’s just the beginning. I – I won’t keep my love a secret. I don’t want ten angry sensual minutes in the broom closet. I want walks in the park and two dogs and a cat. I want picnics with our family and pictures that are not restricted to my room. You can’t give me that. You won’t.”

She had run out of tears. Her fiancé may not be Steve Rogers but at least he was an honest man who tried his best to love her the way she deserved. She had met his family and they had met hers; they could post pictures on social media with cheesy captions and hold hands as they drank coffee from a cheap corner place.

“You can never love anyone like you love me” It was a sulky declaration by a hurt lover and she almost cooed to him like a mommy consoling her baby. Steve may have been older to her in years, but when it came to love he was an immature brat.

“That may be true, but I will try. I am not Penelope waiting in the balcony for Odysseus to return. I love you, and that love may never fade away. But my life will go on. It is your choice if you want to be a part of it.”

She faced him, her eyes open and clear. He didn’t know when the little girl who needed help to reach the jar on the shelf had grown up in this headstrong woman who could beat a sailor when it came to cursing. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her staying like this in someone else’s bed, looking at them the way she looked at him. Steve rarely coveted something in his life, but he didn’t realize until now how much he coveted her love. If he lost that, he feared he would lose himself.

“Your father is going to kill me” Steve groaned, and she laughed. Her head was on his chest and an arm around his torso.

“We can elope, you know. Run away and get married. It will be too late to do anything then. You’ll be stuck with me.”

“Did you just propose to me?” Steve questioned and she nodded, her eyes naughty.

“I’m always a step ahead of you Captain. I figured you would take another month at least to ask and I have wasted too much time already.” She whispered against his lips. He leaned up to kiss her deeply, unhurried for the first time. It was like their first kiss all over again, like two star-crossed lovers smashing through their final obstacle and uniting. Steve didn’t know how he had survived so long without having her like this, but as his hands found her soft curves, he swore he can’t go a day without it.

“Stop stop!” She said, pushing his chest and rolling away from him. “We’ve waited this long. You’re not getting your dick wet until you finally commit to me.”

Steve looked more dumbfounded than offended and responded by finally taking off the ring on her finger and throwing it away carelessly.

“I’ll steal the Quinjet, meet me in the hanger in half an hour. Don’t pack shit. We’ll make one stop for the rings and get the first officiant I can find to marry us. We’ll probably be back by breakfast. And then,” His arm wound around her waist “I will lay rest to the sexual tension of years by getting my dick wet. Repeatedly.”

+++++

It was to be expected that Tony’s daughter wouldn’t do anything halfway through. A flair for dramatics was her inheritance and she and Steve walked into the compound newly married in rumpled night clothes and shit eating grin. They found everyone eating in the kitchen, and greetings stopped halfway when the rest of the team noticed their clasped hands.

“What the fuck…” Bruce said, half eaten celery dangling from his open mouth.

Y/n flashed them her award-winning smile and showed the matching rings on her and Steve’s hand. It was a riot under a minute, chairs scraping as they crowded them, trying to see if it was a joke. Then just as suddenly everyone stopped and Tony stepped forward, a spatula in his hand that to Steve looked as threatening as a gun.

“You sick son of a bitch!” Tony shouted and Steve flinched. He looked at Y/n but all she did was wear a smug look on her face that should be illegal in about three continents. “You little bitch! You are supposed to be from the 90s! You were supposed to ask her hand from me like a gentleman you sick little fuck!”

Steve blinked in confusion while she laughed, hopping like a little girl to hug her father.

“Pay up, daddy! You owe me 500 bucks.” She said and Tony groaned, pulling out his wallet and handing her crisp five 100s.

“I – what? What happened?” Steve sputtered, still surprised he wasn’t being beaten by the Iron Legion.

“You weren’t supposed to elope you bastard. Always knew chivalry was dead!” Tony huffed then went back to cooking. “Congratulations by the way. Fucking finally. I’m not surprised my girl had to do everything anyway. She’s taken after me.”

This was a plot twist Steve never expected and he looked at his new wife with a look of horror on his face that could only be translated to as ‘what the fuck have I gotten myself into’.

“I told you baby, I’m always a step ahead of you.” She said, trying and failing to blush like a bride.

+++++

Taglist is open

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #tony x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

The Bargain Pt 2 | Feysand

Modern AU. Read Part 1 Part 3.

Feyre's first time being tattooed was surreal- positive in many ways, but mostly it just hurt a lot. There was no way of preparing herself for the pain, Rhys just sent her an email reminder of her upcoming appointment and advised that she have a big carb-based meal before she come.

And then there she was, lying on his bench, staring at the thousand ink drawings they had pinned up around the studio and trying to take her mind off the searing sensation in her forearm.

Rhys had drawn her a beautiful design, just like all the other beautiful designs she had seen on his website. She hadn't wanted to see it before today, hadn't wanted anything to make her chicken out. This appointment had been booked for three months, and the more time went on the more sure she was that she wanted this. She would lie in bed, in the dark and be able to see the ink on her skin in her mind.

The design itself seemed to be made of smoke and stars. Every tattoo Rhys made was different of course. While she had been saving pictures of florals and swirls, this one seemed to contain midnight clouds within the pattern. She loved it from the moment the stencil hit her skin. Now she just had to endure three sessions of agony and then it was hers forever.

On the upside, Rhys actually made her feel very safe. And Feyre tried very hard to convince herself that it had nothing to do with the fact that he was exceptionally attractive. There was something about the way his shoulders were so big, but his hands were so gentle as he moved her arm, that made her feel assured that even though she was in pain and her body was freaking out, he was in control.

For a while, Feyre looked around herself, for distraction. Studied the sketches pinned up all over the studio, and how each artist had a wall that was distinct in style. Counted the Japanese masks that hung along one wall, that stared back at her with empty eyes. Watched Rhys' face as he concentrated, and the muscles that moved in his arms.

"Do you get used to the pain?" she asked. Rhys, like all of the artists in the space, had both his arms and what she could see of his chest under his t-shirt covered in tattoos.

"Yes and no," Rhys answered, without lifting his eyes from her wrist. "I think the pain is just as bad but you can endure it a little longer each time. Unless of course you stop doing it for too long. Take, oh, six months, a year off, and then you have to build your tolerance all over again."

"What's the longest you've ever been tattooed for?" "I did ten hours once, but I wouldn't do it again." He flashed her a grin. "Felt like death. I was shaking so hard, I didn't even realise at first and I wanted to keep going. But the artist had to stop because I was making his lines wonky. Then I felt like I had the flu the next day."

"Wow," Feyre said. "Ten hours feels impossible." "You're doing great," Rhys reassured her. "Just tell me if you need to stop, and we can finish for the day." "I'm okay," Feyre said.

A while later, she asked, "Did you go to art school?" Rhys redipped his machine in the ink. "Yeah, I did," he said. "I actually thought I might paint murals or something. But then my first year out I was offered an apprenticeship, and this is actually a pretty stable income as far as art goes. So I never left." "Where did you go?" "I went to Burton's." "I went to NAS," Feyre told him. Rhys looked up at that.

"You went to NAS?" He whistled. "That's a great art school. I heard they got Katherine Silkie to teach a term there." "Yeah, it was the best term of my degree." "I'll bet," Rhys said. "I used so many of her pieces as inspiration works. So you paint too?" "Yeah, I do. Do you still get to paint much?"

Rhys shook his head. "Nah. Mostly drawing for work at the moment." He was quiet for a moment. "I haven't really painted since I moved out of my ex-partner's place. She used to hate the smell of paint, it made her so mad. So I stopped painting at home, and then I left school and didn't have just... never really did it after that."

"Oh. That's too bad," Feyre said. "My boyfriend likes my paintings... but I kind of feel like he thinks they're a way to keep me busy." "What do you mean keep you busy?" "Like... sometimes if he doesn't want me to go out, or go with him to things, he suggests that I 'work on my painting.'"

Rhys paused and looked up at her.

"What do you mean 'doesn't want you to go out'?" he asked her. Feyre shrugged. Memories of Tamlin telling her she didn't need to go out now that she had him, of him telling her "it's not you I don't trust, it's other guys," of him not wanting her with him when he met up with his own friends. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and when the needle touched her skin again it was almost a distant sort of a pain.

"You know," Rhys said slowly. Focusing on the drawing he was carving into her. "My ex was really controlling. She had her own stuff going on so I tried to be understanding. I think I let a lot of stuff slide because I figured it wasn't her fault, she had like a pretty horrible family and a lot of mental health issues as a result. But, then a few years in I realised we were both just steadily getting worse. And she wasn't willing to work on any of it, she just always blamed me."

Feyre looked at him, but Rhys didn't lift his eyes from the tattoo.

"I got out eventually, but actually the worst of it was the six months after I left. I was grieving, but also she was throwing everything she had at me. So I get that relationships are complicated and I'm not going to pretend like I know anything about yours. I just want you to know that I've been in a hard situation and it took me ages to leave, and then it got worse but then it got better."

Rhys turned the machine off then, and set it on the table next to him. He wet down a paper towel and cleaned up her arm.

"I hope it gets better for you, too." He gave her her arm back, and looked up at her. "You're all done."

Feyre looked down at her forearm and marvelled at the new tattoo there. The skin was red and swollen, and but the pattern was beautiful and perfect.

"Shading next time," Rhys said. Feyre just blinked down at herself.

"Thank you," she said. "I love it, so much." "You're very welcome." Rhys smiled at her. "You did a great job, especially for your first tattoo." It was a small compliment, but Feyre felt an unreasonably large bloom of pride in her chest. Not to mention a blush that was triggered by the dimple in Rhys' smile. How embarrassing, she was crushing on her tattoo artist.

Then Rhys began pulling out lengths of clingfilm to wrap her up. He went through the after care instructions, and Feyre nodded along. Honestly, she was still shaking a little from her body being under stress for so long, and was very grateful when Rhys gave her a little flyer with everything written down. Finally, they were done, and Rhys stood with his hands leaning on the bench as she tried to sort out her feelings.

"Take it easy tonight," Rhys said. "It feels weird that I just met you," Feyre said. Now that the pain had stopped, left over adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she felt giddy. And she suddenly found it odd that this person, whom she had just let cut her arm up and make permanent marks in it, was a stranger. The words slipped out before she knew what she was saying. "Can we be friends, Rhys?"

The dimple again.

"Sure," he said. "But I'm afraid I can't see you outside of the shop, at least not while I'm tattooing you. I gotta be professional, and all."

"Okay," Feyre nodded. "I guess I'll see you in a month, then." Rhys nodded. "One month," he said. "And Feyre? Thanks for the trust today."

And then she walked off into the dark, clutching her arm to her chest and feeling both relieved and a little sad that the day was over.

****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #mine

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e-milieeee · 4 years

Text

you are enough (i promise you)—miraculous soulmate au

Summary: In a world where your dreams are snapshots of your soulmate’s life through their eyes, Marinette’s dreams are lonely and quiet, where smiles and laughter have long been forgotten.

Adrien dreams of light—where the air is charged with happiness and the warmth permeates through his dreams and seeps even into the coldness left behind by his mother’s disappearance.

Then, one day, everything changes.

Notes: This was inspired by an amazing piece of art by @australet789! I’m a sucker for SAL lyrics as well, so it was a big bonus.

Thanks @jattendschaton for beta-ing!

Or read it here on AO3 | Kofi

Marinette wakes up with tears in her eyes.

It’s always beyond her control. She lies in bed, staring at the ceiling with blurred vision, phantom thoughts from the dream still gripping her heart and refusing to let go. All of a sudden, her room, colorful as it is, feels extremely lonely. Her soulmate’s steady trickle of emotions still run through her like a current, and no matter who she surrounds herself with, that underlying melancholy never seems to leave.

Taking a deep breath and wiping the tears from her face, she climbs down from the bed.

Maybe today she’ll meet him.

***

Adrien wakes up with the feeling of warmth fading around him.

He squeezes his eyes shut in hopes of grasping a little more of it, but it’s already gone. His room is only artificially warm while his dream is warm with the smell of sweets and the thrill of laughter tumbling around. Here, silence makes the loudest noise of all, and turns even the hottest days cold.

He breathes in, breathes out. He thinks back to the dream. Pink, all around—his soulmate’s life practically revolves around pink. It’s endearing; the color has grown on him since the dreams started. Adrien’s own room has started to adopt a splash of that pink in remembrance of her.

Like he does every single morning, Adrien pushes the covers off himself and peers out of the window, hoping for a flash of pink. He wonders if she ever passes by below his window.

Maybe she will, today.

***

The hardest moments are the ones when her soulmate sits alone at that long, long table.

Marinette looks down at her hands—not her hands anymore, but his—as they pick up the fork and knife and cut dutifully into the meal. He eats slowly, because he is waiting—he is waiting for somebody to join him.

The fork lifts to his mouth. He chews. Swallows. Stares at those giant, forlorn doors.

Nobody enters.

He lets out a ragged breath and forces himself to continue eating. His heart—no, her heart as well—is bleeding.

Disappointment hurts some, but hope hurts much more.

***

Adrien is always awed by the plethora of colors and scents in his soulmate’s life.

In the mornings, the sunbeams slant into her room and it positively glows, resplendent in light. He can hardly imagine some place so lovely exists. And this girl—with her laughter like bells—is his soulmate. The thought fills Adrien up with hope—the good sort.

His favourite moments are the ones when she’s in the bakery with her parents. Their features are blurred to him, but he feels their joy all the same. She joins them early in the morning, singing and dancing as they bake, and the happiness is the sort that leaves a sweet aftertaste long after it fades away.

Even if he knows that when he wakes up, he’ll be alone once more, at least he won’t be running on empty.

***

Fall, winter, spring, summer. They pass in the blink of an eye. Marinette keeps her eyes out for him, but she has no idea who he can be. Perhaps she will never meet him, because he’s always in that house. Perhaps she has met him already, but they have parted.

She wonders if he will have to sit at that table alone all his life.

***

Hope is a dangerous little thing.

In the beginning, it’s refreshing and beautiful to cling onto. But with the seasons’ passing it becomes stale and cold, and every time Adrien tries to rekindle it, it steals a little bit more of himself. He hopes until it hurts, then hopes some more.

Because even if the hope twists into his gut, if he doesn’t cling onto it, there’s nothing else he can hold.

***

She still dreams of her soulmate, but they’re bleak and tired, and she can almost feel the hope he’s so desperately clinging onto fade breath by breath. She wants to tell him not to, wants to ask him where he is, wants to be there with him, but she can’t. The only thing Marinette can do is watch.

So she does, until doubt starts gaining a larger foothold. Perhaps this is what is meant to be: the glimpses of his half-lived life in her dreams, the accompanying sadness that never goes away, this feeling of not being whole. Marinette will have to learn to live with it.

Then, as the seasons fade to fall once more, Marinette finds a small box with a red, spiralling pattern on its lid.

***

What is once warmth turns into longing, and longing turns into pain. Adrien wakes up from his dreams with the warmth draining from him, the loneliness of the house leeching even the brightest of emotions.

The days melt into a mundane blur of lessons, of waiting and giving up. His father is scarcely seen; even Nathalie doesn’t have time for him outside the homeschooling. His nights are full of can’t-haves, and Adrien wakes up in the morning feeling emptier than the day before. He tries— he really does. But it’s pointless.

Then, as the leaves outside his house put on their autumn cloaks, Adrien finds a small, black box sitting on his desk and learns to hope again.

***

The wind tears at Marinette’s face as she struggles to keep her balance.

With a supersuit and magic, one would think that she’d be granted better coordination skills. But as the monster rampages through Paris, she still can’t use the yo-yo properly. It’s stupid, she thinks, to have a yo-yo as a weapon. Out of everything she could’ve ended up with, it’s just her luck to end up with the most useless thing.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Marinette lets loose the yo-yo once more. She can no longer see the creature, but the noise it’s making is deafening, as noticeable as the destruction it leaves in its wake. She gives the string one tug, and, finding it secure, throws herself towards the next building.

Two things happen in quick succession. First, she catches a glimpse of a shadow streaking directly beneath her, and the lapse in concentration causes her to slip. She misses the landing, slams against the corner of the building, and tumbles.

Marinette’s grip around her yo-yo loosens. She braces herself for the impact—what a godawful superhero she makes—but the landing isn’t harsh concrete and broken bones like she imagines. Instead, she’s snatched out of the air by a pair of arms—gingerly, the movements full of uncertainty—but it saves her from the fall.

They hit the ground a second later. Her saviour ducks into a roll, lessening the impact, before they finally skid to a stop.

For a moment, Marinette lays on the ground. The air feels like it’s been knocked out of her lungs and the adrenaline burns through her veins. Somebody rises beside her, giving her a glimpse of black in her periphery: it’s the shadow she had seen just before she’d toppled off the roof.

A hand extends into her vision, cloaked in shadowy black. “Judging by your suit, I think we’re supposed to be partners,” a boy says. There’s a faint note of mirth in his voice.

Marinette lets out a groan, but accepts the hand. Partners— the little fairy (kwami? Tikki?) had informed her that she would have a partner. She allows the boy to pull her to her feet. His hand, despite the suit that covers both of them, is warm around hers. Marinette squints at his features as soon as they’re level.

“I think,” the boy is saying, “that stone thing—”

He breaks off. She sucks in her next breath and does not let it out.

He’s sitting in front of a large window. Outside, people walk past the mansion, where iron gates separate him from the rest of the world. He counts the figures one by one, looking for someone he has never seen but knows.

He exists in a world that is simply cold: the faces around him, the voices that address him, the reality that he has found himself in. But he waits with far more hope than his world deserves: he waits for the tall, silver-haired man to join him at a table that is perpetually empty; he waits for the girl who has filled his dreams with so much warmth and beauty.

He waits for her.

***

Adrien meets a pair of clear blue eyes.

The world splinters around him into a kaleidoscope of colors.

She hunches over a sketchbook, one that is always tucked away safely in the corner of her desk. Inside, she draws what she can remember of her dreams; his room, his bed, even the long, empty table. There are sketches of large details, such as the grand staircase in the Agreste mansion. Then there are small things: the pencil holder on his desk, the little picture of his mother he keeps hanging on his wall. All of these are drawn in remembrance of him, so she can capture every little detail about her soulmate that she’s dying to meet.

She lives in a world that abounds with color and life, yet she still makes room for him. She thinks of him, she searches for him, she loves him. Even if they’ve never met. Even if her life is already so full of love, she still loves him— loves the boy who pales in comparison to her, loves the boy who is broken and bruised and hurt.

But broken, bruised and hurt can be mended, and that mending can start now.

***

When the images fade from Marinette’s eyes and the boy in front of her comes back into view, she finally allows herself to breathe.

They stare at each other for the longest time. His hair is spun of golden thread, reflecting the sunlight softly. Even the black of his suit doesn’t take away the colors. And all of a sudden, even if her life is full of vibrancy, everything is grey compared to him.

Because despite everything—the coldness of his house, the missing presence of his father and the pain of having lost his mother, his eyes brim with life. They are brilliant and beautiful, making Marinette’s breath catch again in her throat. She’s never seen his eyes—she’s seen through them only—and now she knows they are the brightest shade of green.

“It’s you,” she whispers.

“Yes,” he replies hoarsely, “I—I found you.”

***

Adrien cannot look away from her eyes.

They are the best sort of blue; the sort where the sky is clear and cloudless, like sunlight gleaming off the ocean. She is beautiful and radiant, and Adrien does not know how she is his and he hers. He feels as if he’s known her for a lifetime, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t need to second-guess to know: she feels the same.

He blinks, feeling his eyes misting. Tears follow not long after and Adrien reaches up to wipe at his cheeks. It's a fruitless effort because not long after, he’s crying in earnest. “Ah, sorry,” he murmurs, not quite managing to stop his voice from trembling. “I’ve thought a lot about what to say when I finally met you, and crying wasn’t on the list. It’s just… I almost gave up thinking I’d ever be able to meet you.”

“Gave up?” she echoes. Her voice is just as he remembers it. It’s carried him through rough days more than once.

“Yeah.” Adrien sniffles, but the tears still don’t stop. “I thought that maybe I would never find you. Or maybe you didn’t want to find me, because my dreams of you were always so full of vitality and I can’t even begin to compare to that, and—”

She lifts up a hand and rests it gently on his cheek. He stills, words melting away. Her touch is featherlight but at the same time anchoring. He feels the world through her fingertips; he feels the beauty that he hadn’t seen before.

“No,” she says fiercely. “I have always wanted to find you. And now, I’m so, so glad I did.”

Adrien leans into her palm. Her gaze does not waver when she meets his eyes, and carefully, she draws her thumb under his eyes, brushing over wet cheeks. “I’m so glad,” she repeats, “that I found you.”

All those days of loneliness and longing are swept away to mist. The feelings of inadequacy, the aching question if anybody truly cares— her expression says it all. You are enough.

And it’s worth it, the pain of waiting. Because he will wait all over again if just to meet her.

***

They meet up once more after the akuma is defeated. There, standing on the rooftop, Marinette faces her soulmate once more.

“Spots off,” she says, and simultaneously, he commands, “Claws in.”

He doesn’t look much different without the suit. She recognizes him easily, even if it’s barely been an hour since they’ve formally met. She knows him deep down in her bones, singing in her blood, like the oxygen filling her lungs.

“What’s your name?” she asks him.

He stretches out his hands, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Adrien Agreste,” he tells her. “What’s yours?”

Marinette takes his hand. It’s almost a ridiculous motion to follow through with, but she shakes it nevertheless. Silently, she vows to herself��he will never have to endure a meal alone, never have to face his loneliness alone. She won’t let him, and it’s a promise.

***

Everything has changed, and Adrien knows.

The meals he eats alone will never be truly lonely anymore. His dreams of her will no longer be wistful but genuinely bright, speaking of better things to come, because she is here.

“Nice to meet you, Adrien Agreste,” she says, a brilliant smile alight on her face. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Notes: Likes are appreciated, but reblogs help very much! Here’s my fics masterlist.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #soulmate au #chat noir #ladybug #mlb fic #my writing #hurt and comfort #fluff

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

Siblings

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 3: Siblings

@biodad-bruce-month

First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Mari had agreed to go to Gotham after Gina, Tom, and Sabine's funeral. And now I am sweating bullets, not for how she will react, oh no I am far more worried about how the boys will. Maybe having a civilian in the manor will curb some of their unsavory habits.

When I asked Mari and she agreed I could tell this was going to be eventful. She asked if she had any siblings.

"Biologically, legally, or emotionally?" I responded completely serious, "There is a difference."

She thought for a moment before saying "Legally because I already know I have a biological brother" she stated with a smile.

"How did you know that?" he asked her.

"DNA testing project for an ethnicity and ancestor report." Marinette said casually, "So how many siblings legally?" she pushed.

He sighed "Seven but it might as well be eleven with how often Barbara, Stephanie, Jon, and Roy are at the mansion."

"Can you tell me a bit about them. Maybe even the measurements!"

After he had given enough information to spur her creativity, Mari could only be described as a tempest of creative energy.

By the time we were to board the jet to Gotham there was a suitcase filled with only gifts, he had lost count after the sixth gift, but she still added some more. By the time they landed she had a rough idea of what she was getting herself into.

To his shock the boys hadn't tried to figure out where he was and that in itself was a blessing. The boys knew that she existed but were never interested in finding her and to quote Jason 'Save her from the insanity that surrounds this family.' Yet he was about to change that.

He had told Alfred that someone would be staying in the manor but to only leave a car at the airport and he would drive them in. Thank god at least one person listens to him.

The ride to the manor was silent conversation wise. But the constant scratching of a pencil as Mari designed inspired by Gotham's architecture filled the quiet.

---

Before leaving Paris, Mari found out she has seven siblings, 1 biological and 6 adoptive and 4 practically siblings, she will have to figure that part out. Bruce told her all about them and got her their measurements and that includes the one of Bruce's butler/father figure and his fiancée Selina. So in one suitcase there were 13 individually wrapped gifts that even Bruce didn't know what they were. The Miracle box, disguised as a sewing caddy, was among her things, but the horse miraculous and Kaalki were in her purse along with Tikki.

Oh kwamii how am I going to keep this secret if I’m going to be in another country along with being in a house with more than a dozen other people.

Once touching down in Gotham she began sketching, one because she was nervous and two Gotham's architecture was gorgeous. She didn't even realize that they had arrived at the manor until the engine cut.

"Let's introduce you to everyone" Bruce stated with a sigh and a small smile. They left the bags in the car and walked up the steps. As they neared the door they heard it.

"Get back here Todd" one extremely angry voice sounded.

"Dick HELP ME" another voice yelled.

They opened the door and there was quite the scene. Who she believes is Damian is chasing, who she is mostly sure is Jason, with a... is that a katana? And who she is certain must be Dick is trying and failing to stop Damian. In fact he is now also being chased. She looks over and Bruce is sighing looking completely done and with someone next to him.

"Hello and welcome to Wayne Manor." the man states, Alfred if she had to guess.

"Hello Alfred I presume” Mari greets him.

“That would be correct Miss…” Alfred responds.

“Marinette. Um this normal?" Mari asks.

"Unfortunately” Bruce states in a resigned tone.

"Huh" is all she says as she formulates a plan. The boys haven't noticed them yet so that is a plus, but what to do. Then she got an idea so she sprang into action. She watched for any pattern in the chase and when she found one she hid. She was next to the stairs in the perfect position to pounce. By this time Bruce and Alfred were watching her curious to what she was planning. She never left her hiding spot, but when Damian paused to look for Dick and Jason near her she moved. She took the katana and replaced it with a bouquet of flowers and went back to standing between Bruce and Alfred still holding the blade.

"How did you?" Bruce questioned her but she just gave him a smirk and spoke loud enough to get not only Damian’s attention but Dick and Jason’s who were hiding behind the couch.

"I thought you didn't tell them I was coming and here is Damian with flowers. Or wait who is the lucky person?" This got everyone's attention in the manor, if it wasn’t already.

“What the?" Damian stared at the flowers in his hand, while Dick and Jason came out of hiding.

The three boys were looking between her, holding the katana Damian was previously chasing them with, and the flowers in Damians hand. Then they began to stare between her and Bruce before finally someone spoke, "Seriously Bruce another one" Jason, yup definitely Jason, was the first to respond.

"Nice to meet you too" Mari replied. When she looked at Bruce he was still in shock but was now sporting a smirk. "Jason right"

She was holding the katana in her left hand while pointing at Jason with her right hand, he was tall and his build was most like Bruce he had blue eyes and black hair but had a white streak in the front, he nodded acknowledging she was right.

She then continued "I'm going with Dick, right?" she moved on and the oldest, who again only nodded his head, he looked the most like Bruce with his black hair and blue eyes but he was leaner.

"And your Damian" she finished with those in the room, he had tanned skin and green eyes that were complemented by his black hair.

"Is that my katana?" Damian asked, his voice seemed to be a mixture of disbelief, anger, and dare she even say awe, and all eyes seemed to focus on the blade in her hand.

"Yes" She responds with a smile.

"Honestly Mari how did you do that?" Bruce asked her once again.

"You learn to take objects off of an Akuma if you get caught up in too many attacks." she shrugged. She moved towards Damian and handed back his sword. "I'm Marinette by the way."

"Seriously B your missing for two weeks with no notice and come back with your Daughter. Who I might add was able to take Demon spawns sword without him noticing. Why wouldn't you warn us you were coming back with her! Or I don’t know going to find her at all!” Another person walked out into the hallway. Honestly he seemed ready to fall asleep and was holding a huge cup of coffee, he then turned towards me. He also had blue eyes and black hair but it was the longest of the boys. "I'm Tim, nice to finally meet you" he stated with a smile before turning back to Bruce with a slight frown.

At Tim's appearance and statement Jason and Dick burst into confused screams and wild gestures in Dick’s case, while Damian stood there analyzing her before giving a nod of his head. Bruce looked done but it was Alfred who spoke. "Perhaps it would be best to discuss this over lunch along with everyone else?"

"That would be best. Thank you Alfred." Bruce responded. "In the meantime why don't we you get settled."

With that Bruce and her walked back to the car to get her bags. Jason and Dick followed them out, and helped to get her things. Alfred led the five to a room where she began to put things away, only Jason stayed to help her finish her task.

---

The day had started as normally as any other in Wayne Manor, but no one, and I mean no one was ready for this tiny little french teen with the biggest blue eyes to get the drop on any of them. Let alone be able to take Demon Spawns sword without him noticing.

To say Jason was intrigued was an understatement. Seriously how did she do that, because he sure as hell isn't believing that excuse, like what the hell is an akuma attack. Bruce, Dick, and I helped her bring her bags into the room Alfred prepared. He was the only one who stayed to help her. One because if she could get the drop on the Demon then he had to win her over as a pranking ally. Two she was his sister now and he isn't as bad as everyone makes him out to be.

While helping her set up her room he found it, it was a suitcase filled with wrapped boxes. Now if she is my sister then let the blackmail material begin, but not without some teasing thrown into the mix.

"What's with the presents in the case Bluebell," Jason asked, throwing in a nickname to see if Marinette would have any type of a reaction. Because who packs presents unless it was a distraction or trying to hide something.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said with a smirk and heat tilt. Well not the reaction he had hoped for.

"So what was that thing you said archery attack was it?" this got a reaction, but not one he was expecting.

"You don't know about the akuma attacks?" she was a mix of fear and surprise and he was unsure how he was supposed to react to that. Lucky for him as he was about to speak Tim and Dick came in and told them lunch was ready.

---

Jason not knowing about akuma attacks was odd and she didn't know how to react to his question. He was about to respond but Dick and Tim came in, and told them lunch was ready. They walked into the dinning room and inside were too many faces. She recognized Bruce and Damian. Tim, Dick, and Jason walked in with her.

"We're here" Dick dramatically announced, and all of a sudden all eyes were on her.

"OMG she is so cute!" a blonde yelled "Are we sure she is yours Bruce."

"Yes Stephanie. I am sure" Bruce answered almost amused. "Why don't you introduce yourself before you suffocate her."

"Ya, Ya," she waved him off "I'm Stephanie Brown" she stated as she continued to hug her.

The introductions included Stephanie, Cassandra or she said Cass, Duke, Roy, Barbara, Selina, and Jon. During lunch they asked her about herself she stayed in the realm of civilian, but Jason again brought up the akuma attacks so she explained a bit about the Paris situation and referred to them to Aurore's blog 'BugOut'.

She figured out the meaning of her practically siblings

Jon was Damian's best friend as Roy was Jason's because of this they spent large amounts of time with the family . The blonde who tackled her, Stephanie, was dating Tim and Barbara was a close family friend to everyone.

Afterwards she ended up giving everyone their gifts and Damian challenged her to a spar. The fact that no one, except Bruce having a partial reason, had any idea why she could hold her own was priceless. Seriously everyone's jaw was on the floor and Bruce looked like he was plotting something but it seemed to quickly leave his thoughts. All in all it was a good first day with her new family.

~~~~~~~~~~

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hope-to-hell · 3 years

Text

This is a little bit of a retelling of the collaboration I did with @brandycranby earlier, available here, in which sad!Walter calls a phone sex hotline. Sad and Lonely Boys. Unbelievably, no smut in this one. A little angst, a little mild peril, but mostly a sort of meet-cute.

Tagging @iwillmakeyoucraveme @its--fandom--darling @emyearns @indigosaurus @raspberrydreamclouds @summersong69 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @imneonpanda @october505 @seriouslygoodlookinggents @feralrunaway @hell1129-blog @takemeback-toparadise @ashleyskywalker @cavillryarchive @critfailroll @luclittlepond @devterra @eldarwen333 @davidbuddbg @sparklesmolwarriorprincess @brandycranby @littlewrenofrivia @infinite-shite @gissica

This isn’t a romance, not really. And it isn’t an adventure story, or a mystery. This is a story about lonely people. This is a story about you, and about Walter, and his voice in your ear.

This is a story about the job you took last spring, the one you can work from home, the one where you slip on your headset and take your mind someplace far away while your mouth lets out the most indecent moans, while you ask lonely men hey there, hot stuff. Can you guess what I’m wearing?

And it’s easy, it pays well and no one seems to care if you mean it, until this one guy. This fuckin guy. This Walter— although he doesn’t tell you his name at first, not til way down the line at the station, but that’s for later. At first he’s just a voice, the kind of accent that makes you sit up and take notice, rich and smooth and maybe just a little south of sober. He sounds like whiskey and low light, like smoke, like the dirty thoughts you shouldn't be having about him. He's a client, it'd be weird. It'd kinda be like your waiter sitting down to table with you. So you're definitely absolutely not touching yourself while you listen to him talk.

You get guys like him sometimes, lonely men who just want to hear a friendly voice. Guys who, for whatever reason, can't or won't go out to meet in person. And they're harmless, mostly. They just want to talk, to lay their troubles at your feet and hear you murmur soft encouragements at just the right moments. You could be anyone and they wouldn't care, as long as you were listening. But Walter-- Walter's a little different. He wants to hear you talk, for one. He speaks, hesitant at first, cutting off your steamy warmup spiel. No, nothing like that. I just. Can you just talk for a while? About anything. Tell me about what movies you like, what you had for breakfast. His voice is thick when you first pick up, like maybe he's close to tears. But he listens, and when he speaks next it's a little steadier.

Thanks. Take care of yourself.

It happens again, and again. Same day, same time, for weeks. You'll pick up the call and there he'll be, sometimes a little slurred and sometimes not, always sounding dark and smoky like sex on legs. And you've imagined what he might look like, but it's always changing. And he doesn't talk about himself much, but there are little bits and pieces here and there. He works a lot of nights, drinks too much coffee. You think about him holding you, think about more til you have to clamp down on those thoughts. He's a client. You'll never even meet the guy. Besides, it's unprofessional.

This is a story about Walter, who you haven't met yet. This is a story about you in the blue glow of your laptop, waiting for him to call. This is about that creep in the van across the street. You know, the guy who's been staring through your open curtains for an hour. No? You don't know? Well. Better hurry up and see him, because he's got a roll of duct tape on the passenger seat and a whole lot of tarps in back.

This is Walter's voice in your ear, Hey, it's good to hear-- wait. Something's wrong. Talk to me.

Someone outside, some guy. I'm scared.

Where are you? And it's probably stupid to keep talking; you should be calling the cops. But instead you're talking to phone guy, giving him your fucking address, and all the while he's low and soothing in your ear. It's okay. It's okay. Stay with me. Someone is coming to help. And someone does come. Lights and sirens roll down the block, and the creep in the van drives away in a hurry.

He's gone, thank god. He drove off and-- shit, hang on. Someone's at the door. I think it's the cops. And for a while it's statements and someone making tea in your kitchen, and at the end of it all someone leaves a card and says

Come by the precinct tomorrow. We'll talk a little more then, get a sketch of the guy if we can. Someone will be outside til morning. And when they're gone, so is phone guy, the absence of his voice a surprising ache.

This is a story about the next day, about you sitting in a hard plastic chair, half-hearing the murmur of voices through closed doors. Then the door opens and your heart is in your fucking throat because that's it, that's him. Phone guy. You'd know that voice anywhere, tight and strained. He's arguing with someone, arms crossed, and he is gorgeous, tall and thick and hairy, like an angry bear or-- or a guard dog. Something fierce and protective. Whatever you'd imagined, it wasn't this. This is better.

This is terrifying. And god, he sees it, doesn't he, that panicked expression, and his shoulders go up as his head goes down, trying to be small because-- oh god, no, no, it isn't you, it's just-- and now he knows. Now he's heard you, and he's backing away, turning, leaving. This is you and him, and the incipient bad idea that has you chasing after him, that has you crying please, stop, talk to me. For christ's sake talk to me. I don't even know your name.

This is some guy in a rumpled suit going don't mind Walter. He's been so tetchy today. God knows why.

This is you, at work, again. This is night after night of sad and lonely men, horny bastards, sweet things with love to spare. This is that little twinge of dissatisfaction every time it's not him, even though you know it never will be. Not now. Not that you know each other's faces. This is the sound of a call coming in, of a familiar voice down the line. This is him, awkward and strange, trying to apologize. And this is a choice you make, a leap you make off a ledge you didn't realize you were running toward.

Hey. You know I'd talk to you for free. Why don't you come on over and see me?

This is the longest pause in the history of long pauses, a moment stretching out into infinity while you wait for him to stammer out an excuse, or for the line to simply go dead.

And then.

Okay. Okay. Yeah. Does now work for you? Does it ever.

Five minutes ago would work even better and that draws a little laugh, a breathy can't-believe-it chuckle, and then there's rustling, clinking, the sound of an engine; he's on the line and talking for once, low and breathless with a smile hidden somewhere in his voice.

This could be the part where he cuts off mid-sentence with a curse and a crunching sound and screams somewhere close by. It could be the part where you call his name over and over down the line, waiting to hear something, anything, from him. This could be a newspaper article about a homicide detective hurt or worse in a crash. It could be, but it isn't, because this is not that kind of story.

This is the kind of story with an ending that's really a beginning. It's the kind of story where Walter shows up on your doorstep with the phone still to his ear, hair wild like he's been raking a hand through it. And his soft, deep hey echoes and doubles through phone and headset and your naked ear; the sound is rich and rolling and you tell him please. Come in. This is the kind of story where you sit at the kitchen table and talk for hours, til the sky's growing light. This is about you and Walter, and the way your fingers brush when he lays his hand down next to yours.

#henry cavill #my fic #collab #Walter marshall #Walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fic #nomis #nomis fic #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you

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