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#walking ware
dozydawn · 2 months
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Walking Ware by Lustre Pottery & Carlton Ware, 1973.
Designed by Danka Napiorkowska and Roger Michell.
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nuclearanomaly · 1 year
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The gm has used emotionally impactful taunt. It's super effective.
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lailoken · 5 months
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Diamond Willow Walking Stick (For Sale)
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This walking stick was crafted from a length of Diamond Willow (a beautiful and rare type of wood that is formed when particular varieties of willow are deformed by fungus), which I was lucky enough to acquire and work on.
After shaping and smoothing the piece to my satisfaction—making sure to preserve and showcase the "eyes" naturally present in the wood—I strengthened and sealed the wood against moisture by applying several layers of Wisefool's Glaze (a magically imbued wood varnish crafted from an array of potent arboreal resins) and then polished the wood using Wisefool's Oil (an oil of sorcerous empowerment that also happens to serve as a lovely conditioner for a variety of organic materials, including wood.) Finally, I fumigated the whole piece with Dragon's Blood and outfitted it with a rubber ferrule.
This piece measures approximately 49 inches / 124 centimeters in length.
If interested in purchasing this piece, please reach out to me here, or buy it directly on Wending Wares Occult Parlor.
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hauntingblue · 4 months
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THEY TOOK ACE'S CUNTY BOOTS AND GAVE HIM SOME FUCKING LOAFERS!!!! THAT SHOULD GET !!!THEM!!! EXECUTED
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mrsmarymorstan · 1 year
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Top Notch John Green Out of Context Content.
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[ID: A tweet from @johngreen "For a long time I thought I existed to try to write stories that helped young people feel less alone. Now I realize that God put me on this Earth to sell socks.]
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yourlocallygrowngay · 2 years
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This was fun to make and also incredibly more difficult than I anticipated
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ghost-a-saur · 28 days
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Shout out to people who use snow blowers for good! ❄️😇
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thursdaynights · 10 months
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Me, Aro serial monogamist, loyal to a fault
favorite song is https://open.spotify.com/track/4GFJRLgxy4chyfWqfPTJaI?si=CPcZNMy_QCaRKI2RMo2tQQ&context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A4uzxnL7wXezaAlaxuTkpL2
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cabbagecrunt · 1 year
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honestly i think i could work as a busser. customer service ignoring people edition. can't you see im busy
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dozydawn · 2 months
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
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I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?
Rizz if you will.
It's Called Chivalry, Darling
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pairing : astarion x (gn) reader
summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.
warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.
a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)
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“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 
You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 
“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 
“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 
“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 
“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.
“Why are you walking so close to me?”
“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.
You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 
The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.
As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 
“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 
“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 
“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 
“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.
He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 
You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 
“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”
“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.
You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 
But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 
And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 
Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.
You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.
In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.
When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 
Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 
But it doesn’t last long. 
Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 
“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"
He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.
“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 
“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 
Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.
“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.
You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”
This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.
“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.
“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”
"That's exactly right, my dear."
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seonghwaddict · 8 days
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the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was well, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making his sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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jingsyuans · 1 year
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☆彡.。.:*・☆彡.。.:*・ Jing Yuan : approaching him when someone’s been following you
theme: sfw, first meeting
requests: open
part two
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You noticed them a little bit ago.
It was a nice day on the Luofu; admittedly, every day was, the fact you were staying on a ship and not a planet means a controlled temperature at all times. But you had decided to finally stock up on groceries and get some chores done, so you left your house with the market in mind. It was only a little after you had been inspecting some fruit that someone had caught your eye. They were in the background, a few feet away. A plain face in a plain setting, nothing to think about.
And then you saw them again, and again. And the fourth time, you were rightfully concerned, walking just a little faster as you crossed bridges and weaved between the traffic of pedestrians. As long as a lot of people were around you had some cover, so it wasn’t that bad. You were certain you could lose whoever was following you and they’d find some other face to fixate on. Someone who wasn’t you.
You balked when you crossed a bridge and turned a corner toward what was usually a lively street, but somehow, it was nearly barren. And when you glanced behind your shoulder, the person following you was a bit closer than you were comfortable with.
You had to do something. Turn around and confront them? Maybe, but that took a lot of confidence to pull off, and that was confidence you didn’t have at the moment. You have a little, maybe, but not a lot.
So you tried the next best thing that your panicked mind could think of, taking heed of your mothers advice that you’d been given years ago for situations like these. You paced toward the nearest group of people- a tall white haired man that seemed to be browsing tea sets at a stall and a young blonde next to him. You could only hope that they were good samaritans as you reached out, took a hand, and blended in as much as you could with two strangers.
“Is that Ginori?” You smile, looking at the tea set they were observing. “I think that would be a great choice for a new set, but you know that I prefer Meissen. Do you think they have any Meissen?”
It’s only after you spout out your random tea knowledge that you look up at the man you chose to hold hands with. That’s when you nearly fall apart. Golden eyes, angel mark, long white hair tied up with a red ribbon… maybe in your panic, you failed to recognize his uniform.
You were holding the general’s hand. Specifically, the ‘dozing general’, infamous around the Xianzhou Luofu. And his lieutenant, Yanqing, was looking at you like you’d grown a second head.
Maybe you had. You stare up at Jing Yuan and wish you were dead. Maybe facing the stalker was a better idea than this.
And yet, flawlessly, Jing Yuan looks at you with a pleasant quirk in his brow before he sets his eyes back on the display of tea ware. He squeezes your hand before he lets go, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder and nudge you into his side.
“Look, here’s a Meissen,” he smiles as he points down at the tea set, then he looks at you. “Do you think this would settle to your tastes, dear?”
You’re dead. You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead. You feel like your face is on fire, and the fact that you’re so clearly dying and blushing in front of the general of the Loufu makes your face feel even hotter.
“Uh, general-” Yanqing tries to get a word in before you interrupt him with a laugh, slightly hysterical.
“Yes, I like that set a lot!”
Your outburst makes you look down at the cobblestone below your feet, desperately trying to avoid Jing Yuan’s gaze. You can still feel it burning into your head, his body leaning into you. When you spare a look at his face, he’s grinning from ear to ear. Was he getting a kick out of your humiliation?
“Hm. Then it’s decided.” Jing Yuan stands up straight, looking toward the owner of the stall. “I’ll have the Meissen you have on display, wrapped, please.”
You freeze from under his arm. There’s no way he was actually buying it, right?
“Oh, but, if you don’t like it,” you speak up, watching the owner already begin wrapping the set into a box. “You really don’t have to! I’m sure your tastes are better than mine!”
“Don’t worry, it’s not for me,” Jing Yuan smiles at you. Once the box is wrapped, he thanks the owner and hands him the money. The matter is settled before you could argue any further. “Come, this way, dear.”
“Oh, I don’t think- o- okay,” with no regard to what you have to say, you’re dragged along with the general’s arm still slung over your shoulders, stumbling a step or two before keeping up with his long strides. Your eyes are wide as you keep walking with him, not knowing where you’re going, just knowing that you were… going.
Yanqing continued to follow along on the other side of Jing Yuan, and you could see from your peripheral as he peeked his head from the side and eyed you. You ignored it as best you could, feeling a bead of sweat trail down the side of your face.
But you’re keeping it cool. You’re cool. This is cool.
Jing Yuan navigates your little group for a few minutes. He walks around confidently, as if he knew exactly where he was going and where he wanted to take you (prison?!?! That’s what you worry about for a split second, before realizing you haven’t done anything wrong and you’re nowhere near the station). When he finally stops, you look around and try to recognize your surroundings.
It was… nowhere special. Just another market street, not very busy, a few people littered here and there.
“There. I don’t think anyone else should be bothering you now.”
The arm around your shoulder lifts. You can’t help the small ‘oh’ that leaves your mouth, the sudden lack of weight making you roll your shoulders. You stand up a little straighter, looking all around you again before back up at Jing Yuan. He’s smiling patiently down at you, golden eye twinkling.
Once you finally come back to reality, your hands instantly move in front of you, taking a step back as you bow. Of course he had noticed, he was the general after all. That’s why he did those things. It all made sense now.
“T- thank you so much, sir,” you thank him earnestly. “I’m sorry to have suddenly bothered you-”
To your surprise, Jing Yuan holds up a hand, stopping you completely. “There’s no need to thank me, and certainly no need for apologies. You were very smart to get help.”
“G- general!” Yanqing looks like he’s ready to burst, finally getting Jing Yuan’s attention for the first time during the whole event. “Will you tell me what’s going on please!”
Jing Yuan shakes his head, smile still on his lips as he moves his hand to Yanqing’s forehead, flicking it and making the boy yell. “You must be aware of your surroundings at all times, lieutenant. How do you expect to help our people if you cannot do that? You still have a lot to learn.” With that said, the general turns back to you. The boxed tea set is still in his other hand, which he lifts and offers to you. “Here, your Meissen.”
Oh. Oh, no. Your eyes feel like they’re ready to fall out of your head, mouth falling open to reject the general. But- but that would be rude! How dare you say no to someone like that?! But- he really didn’t need to give you this! It was so expensive!
His deep laughter snaps you out of it. “You’re cute when you’re overthinking, but there’s really no need. Consider it my own apology for what you went through today.”
He makes the decision for you as he reaches out and takes your hand, guiding you to take the gift. His hands are warm as they cup your own. “I’ll put out word for the man that was following you so he doesn’t scare anyone else. So you don’t need to focus on that. Take this instead, and make today’s memory a good one.”
“O-oh,” you have no idea what to say, words falling out of your head as you stare up at Jing Yuan. His eyes are kind and his smile is warm, and suddenly you feel like the luckiest person on the planet to have such a revered general look at you like that. His direct attention is all on you.
What are you supposed to say with all that pressure, anyhow?
“Unfortunately, this seems to be all the free time we had for today,” the general seems to leave as soon as he comes, suddenly breaking apart your contact and taking a step away. “I cannot walk you home to assure your safety, but if you would feel more comfortable, I can ask a Knight to escort you home. It’s our duty to make sure our civilians are safe and comfortable, after all.”
Ah.
And just like that, Jing Yuan’s removed all the personal touches away from your encounter. None of what he’s done for you really means anything, he doesn’t know you, and you don’t know him.
But with that alone, the way he removed himself from the equation, yet he still got you the tea set… you feel as if you’re starting to know him, just a little bit.
“I’ll be alright, but thank you for your concern, general.” Once more, you bow to him and Yanqing, holding your gift delicately against your chest. “I appreciate what you did for me.” Looking back up at Jing Yuan, you hold his eye contact, as guarded as it was with his messy bangs. “I won’t forget it. Thank you.”
Jing Yuan merely hums, smiling down at you. He nods, short and firm. “A pleasure.”
And with that, he and his lieutenant walk away. All you can do is watch as they leave, trying to remember the little details and hold onto this moment and feeling as long as you can manage. When you turn around to walk back home, groceries and a new tea set in hand, you miss how Jing Yuan looks behind his shoulder for one last look at you.
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Little Paintings
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: surely the extremely observant and powerful warlord of the sea won’t notice your little paintings all over his castle…
Content: pure fluff, with just a hint of romance. reader is written as autistic.
A/N: I recently watched a TikTok where somebody was painting cute little designs all around their house until their spouse noticed. It made me think of this idea. Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago. Enjoy!
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You like painting. Always have, always will.
However, you’re not sure if the fearsome Dracule Mihawk will appreciate it so much as you, not when you’re painting inside his crystal ware cabinet. Especially not when you didn’t bother to get his permission. 
Not that you’ll stop.
If anything, it makes you determined to work quicker, nudging more of the delicate wine glasses aside to you can lean in and finish the adding paint strokes to the fine wood, creating a minuscule image of a little bottle in the back corner of the cabinet.
Is it silly for a fully grown adult to be doing this? Perhaps. Yet you can’t help but smile as you add the final touch to the tiny little label on the bottle, a small swirl of purple paint to match the label of the wine he shared with you yesterday.  
Perfect.
When you extract yourself and carefully push the wine glasses back in place, the painting is completely hidden. You have just enough time to hustle back through the chilly castle halls and tuck your paints in your room before he returns inside from his sword practice.
He gives you quite the long look when you settle in the kitchen later that day, those piercing yellow eyes seeming to cut through your surface and see so deep. And though you feel your breath catch—as it often does around this formidable man—you force yourself to smile innocently.
“Yes?” you ask.
“I will be sailing out for supplies this afternoon,” he says after a long moment.
You nod and draw your knees to your chin. “Do you need me along?”
“No need for that.”
You sigh with relief, watching as he turns back to his cooking. You don’t dislike people, but you do prefer your solitude. You always have, ever since you were a child. It’s why you feel content to stay here now.
That, and how utterly delightful it is to watch him cook.
He’s terribly handsome when cooking, though you’re fairly sure the man would look handsome doing anything. His knife seem to blur as he cuts up the vegetables, then begins to prep the meat. When he reaches for the pans, his cross necklace shifting against his finely cut chest, your heart skips a beat.
Yet he simply grabs a pan and gets to work, seeming to not notice the tiny cross shaped sword painted just behind where the pots hang.
Really, it’s foolish of you to do this. Yes, art has always been a passion for you, but you are a guest here. A guest he has allowed to stay for some months, and a guest who has shared just enough casual, accidental touches that you hope it might become something more, but still a guest.
Still, you’re curious. Just how much can you paint before the great swordsman notices?
You’ve been at it for a week now, ever since you found the dusty little bottles of paint tucked away in a forgotten storeroom. You use every moment he’s out to sneak little paintings around the castle, none bigger than your thumb.
There’s the little map against the doorframe of your room, like the treasure map you were following before you stumbled on this island.
Then there’s the small ape painted onto one table leg in the dining hall, a far less fearsome version of the beasts that chased away your captain and crew when you all landed here. You recall how frustrated you were that they left you behind, a frustration that has long since faded now that you can count on the safety of Dracule Mihawk’s castle.
He walks past you now, a hand brushing briefly against your arm before he continues on to grab the spices across the kitchen.
Not an accident, surely. Nothing this man does is accidental.
That makes you think of the minuscule wanted poster you painted in the corner of your doorframe yesterday, in honor of the fear you first felt when you realized just who inhabited this place. Funny how frightened you were that first day. And the second day.
…and the third.
By the forth, however, you had figured out he likely wasn’t going to kill you.
By the fifth you’d determined that so long as you didn’t irritate him, he didn’t seem inclined to make you leave either. In fact, as days went on, you became fairly certain he didn’t mind your company.
Which is why you now play this foolish game of sneakily painting designs all around his castle.
You always considered yourself clever. Yet apparently all it takes are a few “accidental” touches and heavy looks for you to throw all your caution to the wind. Teasing a warlord, vandalizing his castle… such a perfect plan for long term survival.
Still, you do truly enjoy painting.
Your favorite are the flowers you painted along a small crack in the stones of the great hall, colored with a yellow that makes you think of his stunning eyes, the eyes that have over the last few months shifted from disinterest and disdain to… something else.
Something that makes you hope perhaps you won’t always be just a guest.
You’re not brave enough to make any moves yourself—never really have been when it comes to matters of the heart—but that won’t stop you from seeing just where these lingering glances and soft touches might eventually go.
Those same eyes stare at you again now as you make your way to the dining hall and pick at your food, separating the small bits of tomato from the rest of your meal. You bite back a smile as his gaze cuts down to your plate and he takes note of the rejected vegetable. Knowing him, he won’t use it in your meals again.
You honestly don’t know how a man so observant has not noticed your paintings yet.
“Do you need anything from the village?” Mihawk asks, startling you from your thoughts.
“I’m alright, I think,” you say. Given the nearest village is several islands away, you take a moment to think about it truly, but everything you need has been provided for you already. If anything, you’re far more comfortable here than you ever were with the crew you sailed alongside, a crew that only cared about you for your rough mapmaking skills—your least favorite thing to paint if you’re being honest—and were quick to abandon you when the first hint of danger appeared. 
He nods and turns to his own plate. You try not to stare at the wall behind him, where you‘ve recently painted a tiny little figure sitting in a tiny little chair wearing a tiny black wide brimmed hat, hidden just at the base of the dining hall floorboards.
Trying not to giggle about it keeps you distracted through most of lunch.
“I’ll be off then,” Mihawk says as you both finish your meals, rising from the table.
“Be safe.”
Ah yes, because you need to tell the strongest swordsman in the world to be safe. You mentally kick yourself, but feel better when he offers you one of his rare almost smiles, even as he pauses by your chair.
“Don’t worry yourself,” he says, that confidence that you’ve come to admire woven through every inch of his words. “I highly doubt there will be anyone to challenge me. Truly a shame. Oh, as a note…”
“Yes?”
Your breathe hitches as he reaches out, gently taking your hand and lifting it towards him. You’re hyper aware of how strong his grip is. So powerful, yet intentionally gentle. Of how piercing his gaze is, those eyes that are so hard to meet, even as they set your heart racing. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss against it.
Oh.
When he lowers your hand, he’s… smiling. Not just that almost smirk, but a real smile. Your heart lurches again at the sight. When he speaks, it takes you a long moment to process his words around the pounding of your heart.
“The entry hall could use a few more flowers, perhaps, if you must paint all over the walls.”
Then he’s off, leaving you stunned where you sit. Your draw your hand close to yourself, staring at the skin he kissed.
You hadn’t noticed it until now, but on the back of your hand is just the slightest smudge of dried purple paint from earlier.
As you run a finger along the paint, you find yourself hesitating. Then before you know it, you’ve risen from your chair and are hurrying to follow, to catch Mihawk before he leaves the castle.
Perhaps you need some supplies after all.
More paints. New brushes. A proper tray for mixing your colors… and maybe even a true kiss from the warlord you’ve fallen for.
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allfearstofallto · 29 days
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Always Under Skin, Even When it Gets Removed
Yandere! Childe x Reader
Part of {Mai Playlist}
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Childe was a nuisance. Persistent. A vermin. Childe was a pest. Like an infestation of roaches, you could do everything in your power to get rid of him, but he'd still be somewhere nearby. Determination was one of his strongest traits, and he was determined to ruin you.
Being married to him was never in your cards and if you could've never met him at all, you would've been happy. Yet for almost a year, you were forced to be his doting wife. Only managing to steal yourself away after months of planning and a few close calls. The taste of free air, even if it was the air of Snezhnaya, was the best thing on your tongue, better than even your favorite food cooked to perfection.
You didn't think you'd live the life of a nomad, but it seemed easier. Paranoia was second nature to you now, and staying in one place seemed dangerous. He could be anywhere, around any corner, close by, but not showing himself until he knew it would fuck you over. Was living life on the road considered freedom? You didn't know, but anything would be better than another day with Childe.
“How far will this take me?” You held up a good ring to a carriage driver, making sure to keep your face covered beneath your hood. You took a lot when you left, mostly jewelry, things that were small and expensive.
He eyes the ring over before dropping it back into the palm of your hand, “It'll get you pretty far, but where are you even trying to go?”
“Anywhere is fine,” you said quickly.
The man helped you up into the back of his wagon, where he kept his wares. Mostly agricultural things, fresh produce and hay. It wasn't the best place you'd ridden before, but it was far from being the worst.
You understood why people were weary of you. You weren't making much of an effort to not come off as strange, but you weren't out to make friends. The wagon swayed as the sun began to set over the horizon, he didn't tell you how long he'd be driving and quite honestly, you didn't care. At the next port, you'd stow yourself away onto some other vehicle, never stopping, not even for a breath.
You let your head rest back against the hard wooden wall, you let your arms fall to your side, you let the movement of the wagon sway you to sleep. Morning would come and you'd be awoken by the well-known feeling of the carriage lurching to a stop and sunlight beaming through the cracks in the wall. Outside sounded like a bustling city, although you didn't know where, quite honestly it didn't matter.
“It's back here, sir,” you heard the voice of the carriage driver say as you watched shadows fall over the doorway. You can recognize Childe. Recognize his smell, his voice, a strand of his hair if you were to find one, and most importantly, you could recognize his footsteps. Slow, drawn out, and precise. Your blood went cold, noticing that the driver wasn't walking alone.
The door was slammed open and before you could even make a break for it, cold metal was pressed to your neck. Sharp enough to slice your head right off your body if you made any sudden moves, you could already feel the steel biting into your skin.
“Already running away again?” You didn't even want to look at him, but he used the tip of his blade to tilt your head up. Still wearing a smile as he looked down upon you, “I will admit, I'm proud of you. You managed to stay away longer than I expected,” the blade pushed a lot harder into your neck, “I missed you, my angel.”
You could say nothing as he took you by the hand, pulling you from the cart and onto the ground. You weren't treated gently, not when he was angry. His anger was a menace to deal with. The bigger the smile, the words his rage, and he looked practically elated to see you.
“You took everything, but this,” he tossed your wedding band down, it fell onto your body and landed on your thighs. The ring was warm, like he'd been clutching it in his hand. Knowing him, he probably hadn't let it go since he discovered you were gone.
Without much of an argument, you slipped the ring back on your finger. The small band felt more like a shackle, than something meant to adorn your body. With it, your taste of delicious, true freedom was ripped from your mouth almost as quickly as you'd gotten it. But you'd never get to taste it again.
Childe was all smiles and laughter as he helped you into his own carriage. That smile not reaching his dead, hollow eyes. The ride to Snezhnaya would be a long one, you wonder how long he could contain his anger till then?
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appocalipse · 3 months
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hello! can I please request "I really, really want to kiss you right now." with steve and our shy!reader friend?!
here you go my love! hope you like it ♥ 1.3 k
The rain catches the two of you by surprise.
It pours down relentlessly, the cold droplets stinging your skin as you and Steve hurry towards his car, sadly parked way too far away from the charming flea market you had somehow dragged him to earlier that afternoon. 
Well, not really dragged exactly — Steve himself had volunteered to give you a ride the moment he heard you telling Robin how much you wanted to go and see if you could find some new furniture for your apartment, maybe even some decorations. But you felt as if you had dragged him there because, c'mon, what kind of guy thinks walking around a flea market with a friend is any fun?
And to top it off, the summer rain had come out of nowhere, sending everyone desperately running for shelter somewhere. Some lucky vendors had their tents already set up when it started, others began trying to cover their wares with tarps or whatever else they had at hand. A good number of them simply started to pack up their things to leave though, as did most of the potential customers who had been taking a look around — you and Steve included.
He had left his BMW in the parking lot of a closed store. It had seemed much closer before than it does now, as you and him run through the rain, palms over your heads to try to shield your faces from the relentless water.
You accidentally step into a puddle. Water splashes around your ankle, wetting the bare skin all the way up to your calf. You mutter a curse under your breath, deeply resenting your decision of wearing a summer dress today. "Oh, great." 
Steve chuckles, looking over his shoulder to you. Then what you can only assume is instant karma happens, and he slips and falls into a larger puddle, splashing water all over his pants and shoes.
You try to hold back, you really do, but the laughter is already building up inside of you, threatening to come out. And besides, he makes no move to get up, sitting there on the ground all wet, looking up at you like an abandoned puppy.
You giggle, which makes him laugh as well. 
"Sure," he says, "go ahead and laugh."
"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you choke out, trying to hold back your laughter as you approach him, offering one hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"
But of course he is. Except for the blow to his ego, that is. And now, in addition to just being wet, his jeans are also partially stained with mud.
And the t-shirt — which is white, no less — starts to stick to his skin, giving you a view you didn't ask for but that's certainly hard to ignore.
Steve accepts your hand, but you use both hands and too much force to pull him up, so he almost collides with you when he finally stands, his face inches from yours. You both laugh, because it was supposed to be funny — his head almost bumps into yours — but he grabs your shoulders and the remnants of the laughter from before slowly die when you realize without a doubt that he's looking at your mouth.
And you at his. In the rain. Doesn't get any more romantic than this.
Except for the fact that Steve is Steve, the former King Steve, the boy who had a pretty girl on his arm every week, while you are...you.
You're not sure who pulls away first, who clears their throat, changes the subject. But before you know it, you're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's car, staring at the dashboard as lightning cuts across the darkened sky in the distance, a storm clearly brewing.
And it's worse. This feeling you have whenever you look at him or he says your name or anyone mentions his…it's somehow worse like this, in this moment, inside this car.
As if that wasn't enough, he offers you a jacket that he takes from the backseat. His jacket.
"Thanks," you murmur, taking the jacket and putting it on. It's warm. You remember the last time you saw him wearing it and resist the urge to close your eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent that still clings to the fabric. It's like a mix of laundry detergent, soap, and something uniquely Steve.
You feel a blush creep up your neck, and you look away, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.
He hasn't started the car yet, you notice. Perhaps  he's considering waiting to see if the weather will get a little better? It doesn't look that bad that it's not safe to drive, you think.
“Sorry for dragging you here for nothing,” you say, when it’s clear he’s not going to say anything.
“You didn’t drag me,” Steve assures you, sitting half to the side to look at you. "And what do you mean, for nothing? You wanted to look at the furniture, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but we didn't buy anything and now you're all wet."
He chuckles so quietly you almost don't hear. "I didn't come here to buy furniture."
You think about asking what he actually came for, but that would be a stupid question, wouldn't it? A hope of hearing something that he probably won't say. He came so you could buy what you wanted. He's a good friend like that.
Still, when you turn your head to look at him, there's something different in the way he's looking back at you. You smile, hoping to God he doesn't notice the nervous edge behind it, "What?"
Steve opens his mouth. He's pretty sure he didn't give those words permission to come out, and yet they come out anyway,  hoarse and low, "I really, really want to kiss you right now."
You watch his lips move as he speaks, but it's like your mind can't process the words. 
And once you do, you blink, not quite sure what to say to that. Your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest, a wild thing thumping against your ribs. But there's something else in there too. Something warm. Something you haven't felt in a long time.
The front seats are close enough, so Steve reaches out, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your lips. "I've wanted to for a while now," he whispers, leaning in closer.
You feel hot all over, the air in the car suddenly too thick to breathe. 
Steve's fingers trail down your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip, teasing you. It's a slow, deliberate movement, as if he's memorizing every inch of your face, every second of this moment. "Do you want me to?" he whispers, and the teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flip over. 
Your mind is spinning, but somehow you manage to force out the words, "Yes." You mean it. God, you mean it.
Steve's smile grows in that charming, lopsided way he has when he's happy. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in closer, closer…and then his lips are there, pressing softly against yours. Feather-light at first, like he's testing the waters, making sure this is what you want. But when you part your lips, letting him in, he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a slow, lazy rhythm, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head, holding you to him.
And then, all too soon, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. "Was that…was that okay?"
You smile, leaning as close to him as you can without jumping over the gearshift.
"It was more than okay."
[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]
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