#I’m so bad when it comes to designing outfits and that kind of thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crheativity · 3 months

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Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning

SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.

You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.

You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. Te can’t relate.

Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.

Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.

Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable.

He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim?

(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)

You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!

He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look.

His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.

You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.

He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!

Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.

Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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thestoryofusstan · 2 months

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Uptown Girl

pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader

summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious

warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual

harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.

you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.

so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.

you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.

it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.

by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.

“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.

you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.

“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”

your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.

great.

“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.

“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.

that makes you feel a bit better.

“y/n, a word in my office please.”

you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office

the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.

“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”

“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“

“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”

you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”

“it better be.”

she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.

you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.

after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.

you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.

mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.

“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.

no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.

the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.

“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.

“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”

“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.

“what was that?”

your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.

“oh. uh.. i was just—“

“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”

“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”

“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.

“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”

you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”

“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”

“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”

he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.

“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“

“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”

at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.

“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”

“that’s the goal,” he nods.

“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”

diane looks ready to kill you.

mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”

your face grows hot.

“she’s a student,” diane sighs.

“a student?” he asks.

“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”

he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.

"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"

your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."

he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."

your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"

"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."

"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."

"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?

"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.

"you may," he eyes her skeptically.

"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"

he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"

you nod.

"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"

you nod again.

he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"

"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."

"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."

for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.

after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.

at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.

the text came three days later.

From: (Maybe): Harry

Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.

To: Harry Styles

Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?

From: Harry Styles

I'll let you decide.

To: Harry Styles

There is this one coffee shop named Maman?

Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY

From: Harry Styles

Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.

To: Harry Styles

You too!

you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.

you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.

you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.

harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.

really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.

he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.

so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.

sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.

"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.

"good morning. did you order?"

"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."

you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"

you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.

"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"

"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."

you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."

"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."

you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."

"oh, is it now?"

"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.

"lemme have a taste."

you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"

"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.

“that you are.”

“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”

he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.

“so, how long have you been designing?”

“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”

“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”

you nod. he grins.

“may i see the sketches?”

you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.

he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.

“..so?” you ask.

“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.

you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”

you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.

he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.

“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”

his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”

you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”

“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” you blush.

“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”

“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”

he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”

“i don’t think i’m that good—“

“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.

a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #designer!harry styles #designer!harry styles x reader #harry styles x designer!reader #harry styles x fem!reader

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

Text

Don’t Close Your Eyes

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug @murderofravens

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, hurt/comfort, vomiting, painful migraines, Gojo is kind of a bad dad, Gojo obsesses over his daughter’s beauty

Summary: Your father, Satoru Gojo, gives you everything you want. What will happen when something you want breaks one of his very few rules? (Featuring Uncle Nanami)

Master List

—————————————————————————

You love your father with all of your heart, but it’s really hard to be his daughter sometimes. He spoils you rotten. You want ice cream or mochi for breakfast? Cookies for dinner? You got it. The most expensive sushi for lunch? Say no more. You want that really expensive necklace and designer outfit? Done.

He wraps you up in the thickest of blankets and carries you through life. If he had things his way, he’d make sure you didn’t even have to put a toe on the ground. You’ve never been confronted with any real world issues thanks to your doting pops, but you feel as though you’re living inside of a shell.

However, having inherited the Six Eyes from him, you suffer not only from an overprotective father, you also suffer from violent migraines due to oversensitivity and overstimulation of the senses. You’re extremely light sensitive. Even the dullest fraction of light can trigger a headache.

This being said, your daddy doesn’t allow you to cover your eyes…ever. He says, “They’re too beautiful to cover up” or “Why would you even think about hiding something I gave you?” You can’t even convince him to buy you those really dark sunglasses where no light can pass through.

You often find yourself trying to cut up towels for makeshift blindfolds just so you can get some sleep, but you’re only lightly scolded by your father and told not to “play with scissors” despite being fourteen years old.

———

Satoru comes home from a mission, greeting Nanami as he asked the blonde sorcerer to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

“How was she? Who am I kidding? She was perfect, wasn’t she?”

“No, she was not. She was crass and rude because she was in pain the entire time. She cursed me out more times than I care to tell, and she barely ate, and what she did eat, she threw up. Gojo, you have to do something about her migraines because whenever I come over to watch her, I end up getting them as well.”

The lanky man’s jaw hangs wide open as he listens to Nanami’s speech. After a minute of processing, he drops the bag of souvenirs on a nearby table and huffs a fatherly sigh.

“Are you sure it’s her? I mean, you could just be incapable of looking after her.”

“It’s not her, Gojo. It’s you,” Nanami states as he picks up his bag. “I’m leaving now. She’s upstairs in her room crying her eyes out because you refuse to do anything about her oversensitivity.”

With that said, Kento brushes past Satoru and leaves the Gojo household.

Satoru trails up the stairs, bag in hand, and knocks on the door twice. When he receives no response, only hearing you choking on sobs, he opens the door to see you shaking under the covers. He strides over to you, pulling the blanket back so that he can see you holding your head with your eyes squeezed shut. Placing the bag on the floor, your dad takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, there’s my pretty girl. Uncle Nanami told me you were having a bad day. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Hurts!” Is all you can bite out with the amount of pain you’re in. You curse yourself for even speaking because your skull is pounding from all of the noise. “Please, Daddy, make it stop!”

He shushes you, pulling you up towards his chest so that you can cry into his shoulder.

“We could try a sedative?”

“Those don’t fucking work! You can’t do anything right! God, you’re fucking useless!” You grip his shirt and blow tears and snot into it as you wail at him in a fit of pain and teenage rage.

Gojo, being used to the cursing, only rolls his eyes. He can’t scold you right now. It wouldn’t help anyway. You wouldn’t even be able to focus on a lecture at the moment. Instead, he holds you closer and presses a kiss against your hair.

“Daddy, please…covering my eyes…it’s the only thing that works.” You flinch when the migraine feels like a brick has been smashed against the back of your head.

“You know the rules. I want to be able to see your gorgeous face every day. You’re my sunshine, sweetie. Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“Fuck you! Uncle Nanami lets me cover my eyes!”

“Well, then, Uncle Nanami isn’t going to be able to watch you anymore.”

You shake your head slightly, desperately. “I…No, you can’t do that. Daddy, please, I want to see Uncle Nanami!”

Gojo lowers his glasses and looks at you. “I’m your father, so I can do whatever I want. These headaches are just a phase. You’ll grow out of them. You don’t need to cover your eyes. I never wore them as a child. You didn’t have these migraines as a little kid, so you’ll probably get over them at some point. You just need to-”

The storm in your head causes violent waves to crash against your skull, rattling the ship that is your brain. Blood rages in your ears, and you can only hear your father’s voice in a low hum before succumbing to nausea for the fourth time today.

Throwing your blanket off of you and reaching for the trashcan that’s right by your bed, you hurl into the black plastic bin that’s almost half full of your bile and stomach contents. Gojo looks into it and can clearly see that Nanami had made you fish for dinner.

Your father does his best to try and comfort you, rubbing your back as you vomit water and whatever else your stomach can wretch. Coughing signals an end to your regurgitation, and you put the trash bin down on the floor in front of you.

Calmly now, with no heat or bite behind your words, you look away from your father and ask, “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

You hate to ask him for this after being so angry with him, but a comforting presence next to you can sometimes help with your migraine induced insomnia. It can sometimes even dull the headaches to a certain extent.

“Of course. Anything for my little girl.”

Lying down, you rub your temples as Satoru trails the tips of his fingernails up and down your back. Being emotionally drained and physically exhausted, as well as having your father sit right beside you, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

As Gojo watches his precious angel close her eyes, he runs his fingers through your hair and smiles. You’re finally asleep and looking peaceful. If you had eye coverings on, he wouldn’t be able to see the whites of your lashes curving as you enter a dream.

He knows in his heart that he’s doing the right thing.

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politemenacephd · 4 months

Text

Arachnophilia: (Part Ten)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Fluff and bonding, Monster/human relationship, Miguel is rutting, Reader goes into heat, Rough PinV sex, Spontaneous outdoor sex, Slight voyuerism/exhibitionism, Mouth covering, Rough biting, Creampie & web sealing, Little bit of angst at the end? CW: Mentions of & brief depiction of deer hunting.

Word count: 6060

One Week Later

‘Are you ready, arañita?’

Miguel’s voice drifted up and into the nest, turning your head towards the entrance. You were halfway through getting dressed and the distraction nearly toppled you to the floor.

‘AH- Yeah! Yeah, I’m- almost ready! Just a minute!’

You struggled into your new outfit; a suit made entirely of silk which Miguel had painstakingly crafted for you. It was super soft and strangely warm, but it clung to the contours of your body a little more than you’d have liked. You kept wondering if Miguel had consciously or perhaps unconsciously made it so form-fitting. After all, this was your third suit of its kind, as he’d ripped the other two to shreds during extremely passionate and wet sex.

You felt your face grow warm at the memory and physically shook it away. No, no time for that. If you slipped back into the heat again you’d never get to go on the trip, and you were excited to go.

As you rose to your feet you took a moment to admire how the nest was coming along. The first thing you’d done was make it homely by adding a window and doors, with the entrance now covered by a crude cut oaken circle that swung outward on a hinge and the walls now adorned with little wooden shuttered holes.

You admired the half-made fireplace in the centre of the room, next to the DIY wooden table and the slowly burgeoning food prep area, before turning to the bed.

The mattress was completely drowning in silken blankets and silken pillows, and the floor beside it was now adorned with the pelt of a stag he’d killed. You knew autumn was approaching and it would only get colder, hence the focus on conserving heat, and while you didn’t want to jinx the relationship you enjoyed planning for the future.

You did feel a little bad since almost all these changes were only for your benefit. You had to preserve heat in this empty forest, but Miguel with his soft fluffy abdomen could remain shirtless all year round.

Your eyes softened affectionately at just the thought. Such a beautiful creature. He was a sight to behold when he stepped out into the cold dawn, where the heat of his muscles created a misty sheen of steam and his white breath curling around his fangs.

‘Arañita!’

You jumped in place as Miguel’s voice echoed from below for a second time. Shit, you’d been daydreaming about him so much you’d forgotten to go down. With fumbling hands you grabbed your bag and rushed out the open door.

‘COMING!’

Where once there was only a short sticky rope to descend from his home there was now a generous ladder, allowing you to easily clamber down to the floor.

Miguel was waiting, patient as ever, his legs gently tapping on the dirt as you approached.

‘Alright! I’m here, sorry. Had some- difficulty with the suit’ you called.

‘Ah, arañita. There you are.’ The joy that lit up his face every time he saw you never failed to make your legs weak.

‘Yep! Here I am.’

‘You look wonderful in that suit, by the way’ he noted as you rushed to his side. You took the time to scoff as you grabbed handfuls of his fur, using it as leverage to drag your body onto his back. His fluff was soft where it brushed your skin, and he smelled like grass dew and wet hair.

‘Oh my god- I knew it, you designed the suit to be too tight on me, didn’t you?’

‘I- well, yes. Is that an issue? Is it uncomfortable?’

You landed on his abdomen with an ‘oomph’ and shuffled forward, settling on his back like a great horse. Your hands wrapped themselves tight around his broad waist.

‘No, but- come on. Little bit pervy.’

‘I thought that was the nature of our relationship’ he argued. He tried desperately to catch your eye but in doing so began spinning in little circles, chasing his back as you continuously ducked out of the way. You took great pleasure in making him spin. ‘I like to look at you, yes. I get great physical joy from admiring your form. You are my mate. I thought this was normal. Is that not normal?’

‘Oh my god Mig—alright, come on! No more wasting daylight hours! Go! Go! Git!’

You gently and playfully kicked his side, urging him onward like a horse, but a firm glare from his bloody red eyes quickly brought you down into an apologetic cower.

‘Sorry! Sorry, uh- shall we, shall we go, darling? At your own discretion?’

He gave a curt nod and began strolling upward into the forest.

Today, he was finally taking you hunting.

The woods, once terrifying and unknowable to you, were slowly becoming a comforting norm. You gazed up at the dizzyingly high pines as Miguel walked upward to where the trees grew sparse and wide.

The early morning daylight trickled down in thin rays, their glow highlighting the tiny specks of dust and flitting little bugs as they passed you by.

This place felt old, untouched. It was cool beneath the heavy canopy above. You could hear nothing but the distant chirps of birds and the occasional creaking of an old tree. As you passed beneath those silent giants you clutched Miguel a little tighter.

‘You were talking in your sleep last night’ you whispered. Mig jumped. You’d been walking for almost ten minutes now in abject silence, so your voice was a surprise.

‘Ah- what was that, mi tesoro?’ he whispered back once he’d regained his composure. You bit down the urge to giggle.

‘Oh, sorry, um- you were talking in your sleep last night. That’s all I said.’

‘I was?’

‘Mhm. It’s very cute. You kept kicking your legs, kicking them and grunting, then you said something like don’t run so fast little one or wait for me and um- I think then you just kinda settled and went back to sleep. Like I said, very cute.’

Miguel rolled his shoulders as he continued strolling onward. You couldn’t tell from here what he was thinking.

‘Mm. I don’t- remember my dreams anymore, but, I know that they’re vivid. I remember the feelings but not the events. So- huh. I wonder what I dreamed about?’

‘I should stay up and keep an eye on you, try and sus it out’ you teased. He managed a breathy little snort of a laugh in response.

‘Ah, I’m not sure about that. What if I say something in my dreams that I shouldn’t?’

‘Oh, pft- like what? You gonna say someone else’s name? you don’t know anyone else, well except Miguel maybe, and if you said his name my first thought wouldn’t be that.’

‘I could still- imply something embarrassing’ he said with a shrug. You’d broached the top of the hills by this point and behind you the view was extraordinary, with small windows in the canopy giving you a perfect view of the city in the distance. Mig paused to turn and look at it with you mid conversation.

‘I could- I don’t know, admit some, sexual fetish I hadn’t even realized yet, some- deep interest in the back of my mind.’

You sighed as you rested on his bicep. With your arms still tight around his waist you gave him an affirming little squeeze. ‘You idiot’ you teasingly chided, ‘you admit everything to me anyway. This morning you immediately confessed that you designed my clothes for your own delight, and- wait, yeah, literally the FIRST day you started rutting you sat me down and told me in great detail your sexual fantasy. You are too honest to be worried about this.’

Another guttural choke escaped his throat, his strange little laugh that now filled you with joy to hear. ‘You are right, as always, my tesoro. I suppose it’s just my anxiety. I- suppose I’m just not used to anyone else being around when I sleep. It’s strangely vulnerable, no?’

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s weird, but, It’s nice though, right?’

You felt his fur bristle beneath you, the strands brushing your leg. Oh, you thought, that meant he was upset about something, right? But, why?

‘Is it?’ he murmured.

You turned and leaned around his torso to try and see his face more clearly, but right as you did so he turned himself and began walking deeper.

‘Hey, is something up?’ you gently pushed.

‘Ah, it… Sometimes- you pull away, at night, when we’re… cuddling.’ The way his voice dipped on the word cuddling, like he was embarrassed to be saying it in front of you. God, he was so sweet. ‘You shuffle away and I wake up without you. I- was worried you were uncomfortable with me.’

‘Oh, I love cuddling Mig! But doesn’t it bother you when you’re trying to sleep? I keep waking myself up because when I roll in my sleep you’re there and I keep thinking I’ll wake you up too.’

He let out a soft ‘humpf’ sound in response, clearly surprised by your response. ‘Ah- I don’t believe so. I haven’t slept any worse since you arrived, except, occasionally waking to check you’re okay.’

‘Oh. Huh. Well, you are… Big? I suppose is the best word? Big ol’ guy, you probably don’t feel me as much. But, like I was saying, I’m just not used to feeling something beside me when I sleep. I’m adjusting my brain to it, that’s all. it doesn’t mean I dislike you or dislike cuddling. We’re just uh- finding boundaries, now we live together.’

He seemed to perk up at the reminder that you were, technically, living together. Living together as partners, a concept he thought he would only ever dream out. He did a little rustle before bounding through the trees.

‘Alright, well, we’re almost there. Let me get you something to eat, mi arañita’

True to his word Mig became utterly focused on the hunt from that point onward.

He bayed you to settle down in the roots of a tree while he got into position, somewhere far enough to dampen your scent but close enough that you could see. He seemed desperate to have you witness him being productive, and you were curious enough to go along with his whims.

In this part of the forest the trees were sparser, allowing more vegetation to cover the dry earth. Miguel had said this gave him more cover for ambush, but you were still stumped as to how this giant man was supposed to hide himself even in the thickest growth. Even when pressed to the floor he was huge, as wide as he was long, covered in bright red and black fur.

Surely a deer would see that, right? Curiosity got the better of you, and you settled down in the roots to watch.

Mig started by feeling the vibrations in the dirt. He tapped at the floor, shuffling back and forth as he listened for something far beyond the scope of your own senses. You saw his eyes widen a few times, indicating that he’d felt something in the distance, and once he seemed sure he began the next unusual stage of this dance.

He dug. He dug into the earth with his enormous legs, filling out a small burrow in which his body could just about fit. He used his legs to drag foliage over his head, masking his scent and his body, until even you could barely see him at all.

And there, he waited. He waited, and waited, as clouds came to cover the sun. He waited in the gloom while you picked at your nails, waiting with a patience that frankly scared you to your core, until you both heard it.

A snap. A twig breaking.

A stag had entered the woods. Immediately you shuffled downward, lying as still as possible in the roots. Mig didn’t move an inch.

The stag was sniffing at the ground as it approached. You were certain that it would smell the enormous spider lying in wait, but somehow it just kept drifting closer and closer. You could see its head dipping to push through the grass, its snout flexing and snorting. Its breath condensed hard in the cool air.

Every muscle in your body tensed. You watched, your heart racing, as the stag went to sniff right over Migs head.

CRACK.

You jumped in your skin as he pounced.

It was terrifying. It was pure, primal, a spectacle of undiluted power. He moved with a speed that seemed impossible for something of his size, so large and yet so nimble, as his legs propelled him out of the dirt and onto the beast. It tried to run but his claws caught its neck.

With the sheer weight of his body he brought the bleating giant down. You saw a flash of his eyes, blood red with a single white pupil, right before he clamped his jaws on its neck.

It was over in seconds. The moment the deer stopped moving you scrambled out of the roots to join him.

‘Holy- shit, you’re so fast!’

Mig unclamped the catch with a soft grunt. You could see the blood on his jaw and neck which he immediately smeared with the back of his hand before facing you. He had such a strangely shy smile on his face.

‘Oh- you saw! You saw it. What did you think?’

‘It was… terrifying! Wow! You are- so, strong!’ you said with an awkward laugh. You left out how weirdly enjoyable it was to see him at full strength, to have witnessed the power and carnage he was capable of.

His grin widened as he took your comment at face value. ‘Thank you, arañita. That- makes me happy. I like showing you that I can be of use.’

‘Oh, Mig you idiot.’

You leaned in and affectionately touched his hair, gently brushing back the thick curls. He almost purred at the touch. ‘Now- jesus, let’s get you cleaned up and get home.’

You used a strip of silk from your back to try and clear his face, though he kept nestling into your hand which made it difficult to finish. Something about hunting for you seemed to make him especially soft. He would tap his feet for attention and rustle against you, and you would tut at him while secretly enjoying his touch.

That peaceful downtime did not last long though. As you were brushing yourself down, preparing to head back down, you noticed that Mig had stopped pacing. When you turned to check on him his eyes were wide.

‘Mig?’ you said softly. He didn’t move. You watched with ever growing curiosity as he began to dart his gaze across the forest line, almost as if he was looking for something. You followed his line of sight but could see nothing yourself.

It was only then, on the cusp of your lips parting to question Mig on what he was doing, that your senses picked up the same thing he had.

Your eyes locked in a moment of shared terror.

Footsteps. Distant footsteps, growing closer with every step. Idle chit chat that echoed in the trees, something about being lost and forgetting the map. You sensed a flask on an overstuffed backpack slowly clinking against a metal keychain.

‘Hikers’ you hissed. Mig gave a silent nod.

No, no, no. This was bad, you thought. What were people doing this far out? Why today of all days?

You didn’t want to risk a run in with civilians. You knew Mig was safe, but you also remembered how you’d acted the first time you saw him, and more importantly you remembered his distress at being seen.

Without another word you jumped into action, hopping his back in one fell swoop while he grabbed the kill by the nape of its hide. He lifted it as easily as a cat carrying a kitten, a feat you barely had time to appreciate, as he broke into a canter the moment you were mounted.

In silence you hurried back down the way you’d come.

For about half the way down it seemed to be smooth sailing. Mig made easy progress through the woods, his eight legs silently tapping back and forth on the mulchy earth as you descended to home. Your senses could feel the hikers getting further and further away.

In no time at all you saw the glade appear at the bottom of the hill, a tiny little circle in a sea of evergreen pines slowly sinking downward. You let out a contented sigh.

But then you felt it.

You felt It.

That foreboding tug in your gut. The gentle throbbing that sank down through your insides, the pulsing of blood as your heart sped up. The yearning, the need, the subconscious addictive pleading for satisfaction.

No, no, no, NO. You couldn’t stop here, right? The hikers weren’t far enough away yet.

You shuffled, trying to secretly suppress it, when Miguel abrupted stumbled to a halt himself. You heard him drop the stag with a thump.

Shit. You could smell it. It was heavy in the air, a smell you couldn’t describe with words but which you felt in your loins. He was rutting too.

Your eyes rolled. Oh that smell, it gave you goosebumps. That smell alone dragged you to him like a magnetic force.

‘Arañita?’

His words were soft as he spoke. Those were dangerous words, hungry words.

‘Mig?’

You felt so small on his back as his shoulders arched. You had to tilt your head to see his face, to see the bright glow of his eyes as his head instinctively tilted sideways. You balked. Those eyes were fucking starving.

‘Mig’ you breathed.

His abdomen vibrated softly, rustling against your skin in a way that sent pleasurable shivers through your thighs and spine. You shuddered against him. ‘Mig, don’t—careful—’

He breathed out hard, his breath condensing in the air. ‘Ah… Arañita …’

It curled like smoke around his bloody maw. His full lips parted and he breathed in through the mouth, releasing a dark and foreboding growl. ‘Ah…’

‘Mig—we need to get back—’

He was breathing heavier now. You could see his enormous spider legs quivering as he fought the urge slowly infecting his mind. The urge to pin, to fill, to penetrate, to feel. The urge to claim. The urge to see your pretty form, naked and sweating and shaking as you struggled to take him, as you were fucked to the brim with his very being.

When he huffed smoke for a second time a breathy moan escaped his throat. It was a mating call, plain and simple, echoing through the trees.

‘Mig… Mig…’

It was pitiful; your pleading had gone from genuine concern to depraved praise as you whispered his name over and over again. While you pleaded Mig struggled to focus on his senses. His body was begging, screaming even, to take you now, but he could just feel the hikers still approaching their location.

‘We need- to get back- to the nest’ he panted. You didn’t even respond.

At this point you were broken, involuntarily grinding your hips into his fur for any semblance of relief. Your body was burning to the point that sweat was sticking your suit to the contours of your skin, highlighting every little dip and curve.

‘Miggy—’

‘Arañita!’

His bark of an order made you mewl.

‘We need- to get back—’

‘O-Okay’ you whined. Slowly, painfully, Miguel began to continue his walk down the hillside towards the glade.

It was agony. You’d gotten so used to instant gratification that pushing through the need was now hellish, especially combined with the need to run.

It was an itchy heat, a prickling heat, and as your blood began to pump you felt your insides begin to pulsate. Throb after throb, each harder than the last, as every muscle inside you twitched and tensed around a cock that wasn’t there.

You could feel his body beneath you. You could sense him, feel him in every part of your body. All you could think about was feeling more, tasting more, as that desperate curdling need to feel his cock inside you flooded all of your senses. It was physically unbearable.

‘Don’t’ your mind screamed as you pulled at his fur.

‘Don’t do it’ his mind pleaded as he forced himself forward.

But you were no match for each other’s potent smell. No risk, not even death, felt important compared to that burning ache.

You collapsed from his body and into the dirt with a low moan, unable to maintain yourself any longer. Miguel descended on you in seconds.

You squeaked and squirmed as he gripped you in his claws. He pounced like you were prey. He flipped and thrust your body down onto its back, his gruff hands immediately pinning your arms to the floor. The frail little bones in your wrists screamed out at the pressure.

‘Mig!’

He hissed and flexed his teeth on your neck, hot breath cascading over your skin as the smell of musky hormones and blood filled your nose.

‘I can’t- wait—’ he panted. You could already feel his abdomen rubbing and grinding on you, his slit unable to contain his erection any longer. You could feel the thick, warm shaft smearing your new suit with his thick, pearly pre-cum. ‘I need- you, please- I need it- it hurts—’

You knew it was dangerous, but your brain was a melted pot of red hot lust. You couldn’t fight it anymore. With a soft whine you lay back and turned your head to the side, frantically nodding for him to continue.

‘Okay, fuck—I can’t wait, fuck—just, be quick, please’ you panted.

He didn’t even bother to fully undress you. With a hiss he bent and ripped a hole in your suit with his mouth, a dangerous tactic as his teeth brushed your pussy lips as he tore the silk aside. He took one deep sniff of your pheremones before physically dragging your body into position.

He forced your legs into a mating press, his hefty torso straining the muscles in your thighs to bend to his will. He rustled slightly as he pushed into position, roughly edging his bulbous member against your slit, and as you felt the first inch spreading you open you knew it was over.

‘Okay, okay’ he panted, ‘shh- sh, stay still for me arañita, let me just—fill you—’

He thrust, hard, and with one excruciatingly tight stretch he was inside you again.

‘M-MM--!’ Your hips bucked and tensed, rocking from side to side as you struggled to adjust. Miguel gasped like he’d just avoided drowning.

‘Ah—ahh—that’s it, that’s it. I’ll be- quick, just- stay still, mi tesoro, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

The moment he entered you he started to frantically rut to completion, his abdomen jerking back and forth as he fucked you into the dirt. Your fingers dug into his arms.

‘MM--!’ It was painful to hold back your screams. You had to bite your tongue until it bled, until the taste of iron filled your mouth and nose, all in a vain attempt to not be caught. He was so fucking rough.

‘Sweet little spider’ he whined. You felt him thrust a little deeper and squirmed with joy at the familiar mixture of ache and pleasure.

‘It’s… ‘S so good’ you whispered in a needy, whiney breath. ‘So—good…’

Desperate now to finish quickly, Miguel angled himself a little further back. He needed the one thing that he couldn’t resist, his most primal indulgence. He wanted to see it. Your small, soft, sweet human body, perfectly impaled on his enormous shaft. The sight sent full body shivers through his spine.

‘So… tight…’

He looked utterly pussy drunk, mesmerised almost. He watched your slick coat his cock as he drew back, those translucent sticky strings hanging between his abdominal fur and your pretty little slit. They made his black veins glisten as they pulsed against your swollen cunt.

‘Mi… aranita…’

He stared, unblinking, as he moved his hand and began touching the spot where he’d entered you. He brushed his thumb down and across your swollen clit, those wet and messy folds, until it came to rest where his shaft was splitting you open. He watched you swallow him whole.

‘Pretty, pretty little spider’ he whispered. ‘F-fuck…’

He watched your hips jolt as he gave a few short pumps about halfway in, fixated on the way you stretched and wriggled with pleasure. His previous seed was now oozing out at the sides as he pumped in and out, just adding to the absolute mess you were making.

‘So, so… pretty…’

You felt his claws suddenly hit your neck, pressing you down until you were forced to be still. He continued to watch with wide and unblinking eyes as his thick rod squished back and forth, back and forth, filling you until you bulged before slowly slipping out with a wet pop.

‘Mm- mm—’

He was grunting hard as he moved.

‘So, fucking, pretty—’

‘Is it this way?’

Your whole body went rigid at the sound of unfamiliar voices, but you didn’t even have time to process your shock, because Miguel didn’t stop.

Even as the voices got louder he continued rutting you into the floor, his breathy grunts just barely audible in the rustling undergrowth.

You silently slapped at his arm but he couldn’t bring himself to pause. He impulsively clamped his hand over your mouth, his eyes deadly and starved as they stared down at your panicked expression.

‘Stay. Quiet’ he mouthed. Despite your fear, you were just as needy. You let him have you.

He bent your legs into your ribs just to slip deeper, his thick shaft eagerly kissing and smearing your cervix with pre-cum. Your breath was hot on his calloused hand as it muffled your desperate moans.

Despite his rational mind knowing that he needed to be quiet, Mig’s carnal desperation was driving him towards risky behaviour. You could hear the clap of his skin between your thighs echo with each wet pop as he pushed in and out, a symphony just as terrifying as it was erotic.

You watched him savor the feel of your body. You watched him as he experienced you.

‘Ah—ahh—ah—’

He flexed his jaw until it hurt trying to suppress his cries of pleasure, and in a second moment of impulse he bent down and sank his fangs into your shoulder. Your squeaks were silenced.

Now clamped by the terrifying power of his maw you were utterly surrendered. You could feel his teeth moving in tandem with his cock, filling and shifting inside you, flooding you with that same potent mixture of pain and pleasure.

You raked your fingers down his back, drawing red lines into his rough scarred skin. He dug his claws into the dirt.

The footsteps got closer, but there was no breaking free. You were trapped together. With a muffled grunt Miguel sped up to completion.

‘MMFF—’

He came inside you silently, with all his gutteral noises muffled by your skin. You felt it all the same. The heavy spurts, the hot seed flooding in and squirting against his soft underside when your cunt ran out of room. You were filled until you bulged.

In the high of that release you were nearly dizzy. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hormones overpowered any rational fear about being seen. All you could do was lull and whine, relishing the sweet gratification of being filled again.

‘Mig’ you whispered. ‘My Mig. You—’

Snap.

Your eyes shot open.

You tilted your head, slowly, just enough for your eyes to roll and spy the woods behind you. Two hikers were frozen in place, their bodies just barely obscured by the trunk of a pine.

They were staring at you. You, your body pinned beneath the torso of your half spider mate, still fully impaled on his monstrous cock, with your head in his neck and your flesh in his maw.

Your blood ran cold as your body tensed. To say you were mortified was an understandment, it felt like your heart might give out. You felt Miguel’s breath steaming against your shoulder as he panted into it. Did he know? Had he realized?

You opened your mouth but no sound spare a painful squeak escaped. Your brain was utterly fried.

The one to break the tension then was Mig, who decided to release your shoulder and stare directly at the two strangers. Mouth bloodied, eyes red, his naked body straining and panting for air.

Their reaction was swift.

‘FUCK!’

The two hikers almost fell over each other as they ran, both frantically fleeing for their lives into the overgrown brush.

‘JESUS- CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?!’

‘WAS IT EATING THEM?!’

‘F-Fuck, FUCK! I DON’T KNOW JUST- GO!’

‘We have to call for help—’

‘JUST RUN JUST- FUCKING RUN!!’

As the screams grew distant, you felt Miguel slowly pull out. His hands were quick to plug you up and carefully stitch your suit back together at the crotch, but you were too exhausted to move.

‘Shhiittt.’

It was the only thing you could think to say as you lay back in the mud, your head still a little woozy from the whole experience. Mig just grunted.

‘Shit, shit, shit. Ah…. I’m- I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine. I- fuck, are you okay Mig?’

He grunted again as he lifted you up into his arms. His spider legs hooked the stag’s carcass and carefully manoeuvred it onto his back, allowing him to begin the short final trek back to the clearing with you still in his arms. The longer he went without saying a word, the more you began to worry.

‘Mig?’

You patted his cheek as he walked, trying in vain to get his attention. His only response was to sigh.

‘It’s okay’ you said, your voice now rather timid. ‘It’s fine, they- we probably won’t ever see them again. And hey, we didn't have to fight them! That's good, right? They just- left.’

‘It’s not that.’

You were surprised when words finally left his mouth, especially when they were delivered so sadly. He was blunt, yes, but not usually this melancholy, especially after sex.

‘What is it then?’ you asked. It took him a few more seconds to reply.

‘They thought… I was eating you’ he murmured. ‘If I’d been anyone else, they wouldn’t have screamed. We would have been- yelled at, perhaps, or chastised for being perverts. Maybe they’d have just, awkwardly moved away. But they would never have assumed I was eating you.’

The sombre reality sank in slowly. Somehow, you’d both forgotten the reality of what this was. What he was. You tried to shrug it off. ‘Wait, that’s what you’re worried about? I mean… If you were just, purely human, they might have still assumed you were murdering me. People can do murder too yanno.’

He managed a small, throaty chuckle at your light teasing, but it was strained. He looked distant, distracted, alone in his own mind. You gently shook his arm to drag him back down to reality.

‘Hey. It’s fine. You’re fine’ you repeated.

‘Does it not, bother you? The way they reacted?’

‘Mig I would have been mortified to be caught like that whether you were fully human or not’ you scoffed. He seemed unconvinced.

‘If they’d- seen us, holding hands’ he said, slowly musing over the theoretical aloud, ‘if they’d seen us… kissing, or even just sitting together, they would have run. They would still be terrified.’

It was hard to maintain a smile in the face of his dour prediction. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to simmer in that pool of despair, and you didn’t want him to wallow in it either.

‘People- when they see something they don’t understand, they, react like animals. Sometimes they run, sometimes they fight. They squash it so you don’t have to think about it. It’s easier.’

That morbid thought made him wince, but you refused to let go. You leaned in and tilted his head back towards you.

‘And it’s horrible. It’s horrible, and it hurts, but then there’s other people. Other people, who- know what it’s like, to be the- scared little spider on the wall. And they know, Mig. They knew. I know. And I’m not scared of you.’

To your joy he managed to shoot you a ghost of a smile, just the barest tilting of his lips. It was enough for you, even if you’d only managed to distract him for a bit.

‘Besides, who do we have to disappoint?’ you said in an attempt to lighten to mood. ‘I don’t have friends to introduce you too, or family, or co-workers. You’re alone. We don’t need to worry about what people think.’

‘You say that now, arañita, but… I don’t know, I don’t feel like that will remain true forever. I also don’t appreciate you indulging my possessive nature.’

‘Awh, what? How, what did I do?’

‘Implying we’re all we’ve got’ he said softly. ‘It makes me- happy, but on some level, I know it shouldn’t.’

‘Well, hey! You know it shouldn’t, so- you know, that’s a start.’

Mig ducked his head beneath a row of branches as he re-entered the clearing. In the clear, bright light of the burgeoning sun he looked glorious.

‘Yes, but—I also know that I willingly ignore that fact and, pretend it is acceptable’ he confessed with a slight shrug. ‘Because- well, it comforts me, especially when I’m reminded that we are… different, to put it nicely.’

‘Well, as long as you’re not getting feisty, huh? I’ll just be sure to let you know if it ever gets annoying’ you offered. You pressed your face against his pec, right over his heart, and tapped it like you were making a promise. He gave you that sweet little ghost of a smile.

‘Very well, mi tesoro. I will hold you to that.’

You allowed Mig to drop the kill near the base of the nest before climbing back in with you still in his arms. You lulled a little in the sudden warmth, placated by the warm orange rays of sunlight warming the floor, and the moment he slid you onto the bed you collapsed into it.

‘Mmm… Yanno, that was the first time we were under such pressure from the heat that you didn’t make me orgasm’ you noted with a yawn. It was more a dry observation than a real problem you had, but it immediately caused Mig to bristle in horror.

‘I- oh, no you’re right. You poor little spider.’

‘It’s okay! I don’t blame you, it—HEY!’

You squealed with delight as he dove onto the mattress, his weight flinging your body a few feet into the air before landing back into his already outstretched arms.

‘Let me fix that’ he purred, his breath brushing your ear. ‘Please, mi aranita, let me taste you again.’

With an eager grunt his lips met yours, his abdomen rustling with excitement as his tongue went down your throat. You were smothered in seconds.

You gave in to his whining need to please and relished in the chance to scream again, your wet lips quivering his name with each breath as he tore your third new suit to pieces for just a lick of your cunt.

You were too focused on his mouth to notice anything as you tossed every item of clothing to the floor. Between his whiny moans and your own panting, you couldn’t have possibly heard anything else.

You certainly couldn’t have heard your society watch as it buzzed against the fur rug, the name ‘Jess’ highlighted in clear orange light. It was left to ring to voicemail instead, with neither of you aware it’d even gone off. Link to next part!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #drider #smut #smut with plot #miguel o'hara fanfiction #read on ao3 #spider man 2099 #monster human relationship #miguel o'hara smut #miguel fluff

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timmie-p · 2 months

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Ivan Interview translation

Ivan, the Next CF Star

Just two months after his debut, Ivan was selected as an ambassador for the famous luxury brand Q. Ivan is the first non-native 'pet human' to become an ambassador for Q. "Ivan's stoic yet playful visuals are perfect for capturing the diverse appeal of Q," said Q's chief designer.

Ivan, who recently topped the Alien Stage live voting, is being touted as the next big CF star after Luca. He's been inundated with requests from designers all over the world who want to put ads on his outfits. He has already collaborated with nine brands, all of them big brands. The public's attention is focused on how his growing popularity will affect the Alien stage.

Interview

Since the third round aired, it’s become very popular. Are you feeling the buzz?

Alien Stage is growing in popularity every day. Did the crew recognise me during the CF shoot? It's funny because at the beginning of the show, there weren't many people in the world who recognized me, and now there are so many people that I can't get through the streets by myself. (Laughs)

You’re currently ranked #78, at this rate top 20 is possible, isn’t it?

Thank you for your kind words. I'd love to keep the momentum going and make it to the top 20, but I'll leave the choice up to the masses.

You have a lot of titles that describe you, right? Do you have a favourite?

My favorite is "Blocell's #1 Brand Reputation" from a recent article. It makes me feel like all those days of photo shoots and commercials weren't in vain.

What do you think makes you unique?

I can think of more bad things than good (laughs), but, um… I think the thing that fans talk about a lot is my partial fang. I think I have a normal face, but there are many people who remember me for my fang.

What’s your secret to getting the best shots?

The day before my schedule, I study the brand I'm going to shoot for so that I can clearly understand the directions on set. Knowing the brand in detail is fundamental as a model. I also think it's important to make it a habit to take care of my body.

What is your ideal girlfriend? Lots of girls around the world want to know!

I don’t have a specific dream girl, I’ve never really thought about it. If I were to choose one…. No, I don’t have one. (Laughs)

Are you close with Till?

What’s your definition of “close”? (Laughs)

We’re just okay. Mediocre at best.

Let me ask you straight up. Do you think you can beat Till?

I don’t know… If you could perform as wildly as him, you might win too, right?

Say something to Till, your next opponent!

…..Keep it up?

read it for your own here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ivan-interview-99972496

also i’m sure an official english version will be out soon i just like doing these lol

okay!!! i feel like vivinos is dropping red flags here but idk 🥺 ive already been theorising that ivan will be the one to lose and the audience here seems to support him too much..

i translated “힘내” previously as “Come on” in the snippet where till punched ivan but i think it makes more sense here to translate it as “Keep it up” (it’s just generally words of uplifting encouragement)

also for the part about his fang my translator translated that as “false teeth” and boy when i tell you i was confused 💀

also following up the question abt his dream girl immediately with a question about his relationship with till.. real subtle there… kinda makes me go uueeugguh tho

#alien stage #alnst ivan #official art #translations

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awakentheeldritchabomination · 1 month

Text

I started playing around with my Charlie’s design a little bit. I wanted to add some more covert wolf/dragon-like qualities, and I’ve also been ruminating on the white-savior narrative a bit as well as colorism… I know that they are technically half black in my version (they’re basically albino and albino black/bipoc people exist and, of course, should be acknowledged; I don’t want to overlook them, however, there is something to be said about how lighter skinned people or characters tend to fill the kinds of protagonist roles Charlie is in at a disproportionate rate….for very obvious reasons…., and idk how I would feel about playing into that even if I aim to critique it, especially if this ends up branching off into its own little thing) and that I chose the white coloration to comment on the ways we perceive whiteness as purity (lamb deception) whilst demonizing darkness, but I’m still on the fence. Like I said, I also wanted to play around with wolf patterning, so I landed on some vitiligo (ig?)- coded ideas. I’m not sure if I’m sold on it right now, but I do like the concept. I was also gonna try darkening their skin tone, but that one’s still in progress (Sorry, I don’t do a lot of digital art, so I’m kinda bad at it lol)

If anybody has any thoughts on the subject, I’d love to hear them.

Also, some more fun facts: they definitely have a more extensive wardrobe as royalty, and the colors I associate with them are black, white, pastel blue, and red (so original lol). They wear more red around their father or whenever they feel crappy since this palette is based on flame coloration in accordance to heat (high spirits = blue and white; low= red and reddish orange) and in my version, red would be a color closely associated with specifically Lucifer’s presence (instead of…everything), so they’re subconsciously trying to match his energy. They wear more contrasting black and white outfits when hanging around Alastor. With V, it’s more the typical blue (their usual attire is made to complement each other through pastels). Oh, and V finally has a name: Vanesa. That should have taken two seconds to come up with, but indecisiveness strikes again. I’m still second guessing.

Alright enough random color dynamics:

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel rewrite #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel criticism #charlie redesign #hazbin rewrite

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amorest-viesse · 1 month

Text

[Your Warm Hand in Mine] - Chloe SR Card Story Translation

Ft. Figaro (Akira and Western wizards mention in card episode)

A Line for the Lady - Chapter 1

[Weeping Princess’ Castle]

Chloe: May I have your hand, my lady?

Chloe: …No, that’s not right. Maybe it needs to be more gallant.

Chloe: To ensure you’re not swept away by someone else, may I have your hand, my lady?

Figaro: Ahaha, how forward of you, but by all means.

Chloe: Whoa! Where did you come from?

Figaro: Oops, sorry for the scare. You just seemed so serious, I thought it might help to have a partner.

Figaro: Although, it doesn’t look like things are going too well right now.

Chloe: Ahaha… You got me there.

Chloe: Truth be told, I just can’t get the hang of this escorting thing. No matter how much I practice, I always get nervous and totally freak out.

Figaro: Really? I never would’ve guessed from the number of times I’ve seen you invite the Master Sage out.

Chloe: It’s totally different with them though!

Chloe: We’re basically BFFs, so if I goof up, we can just laugh it off!

Chloe: I can’t exactly do that during a ceremony with strangers though… If I leave a bad first impression, it’s totally over for me!

Figaro: Hmm, I see the dilemma now. Well then, what if you did this?

Figaro: Don’t put too much pressure on yourself and try treating it like a game.

Figaro: You Western wizards are always doing that kind of stuff right?

Chloe: Think of it like a game? You know, that might just work!

Chloe: Oh, but what should the setting be? A ball? A birthday party? A theatrical production?

Chloe: What do you think, Figaro?

A Line for the Lady - Chapter 2

Figaro: Let me think…

Figaro: What if… you were the heir of a noble family meeting your betrothed for the first time, and you needed to take her out on a very special date?

Chloe: Me? An aristocrat?

Figaro: If the situation is too difficult to imagine, I could always turn into your beautiful betrothed for practice sake.

Chloe: Eh!? You? As a noblewoman!?

Chloe: As much as I’d like to see that… I wanna give it a shot on my own first.

Figaro: Ahaha, fine by me.

Chloe: Alrighty then, here I go. …Ahem.

Chloe: …It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my fair lady. I have been eagerly awaiting this day.

Chloe: Dressed in dusky blue with luminous diamonds about your neck, you’re the very vision of a star, descending from the heavens to grace us with your ethereal presence…

Chloe: Now, may I have your hand, my lady?

Figaro: …

Chloe: So? How did I do?

Figaro: It was even better than I’d expected. You really are Rustica’s apprentice.

Figaro: I think you’d charm just about anyone like that.

Chloe: Really?

Figaro: Really. Every word was elegantly and beautifully delivered.

Figaro: Although, it was funny to hear you compliment your partner’s dress and accessories without them actually being there. I’m sure no one but you could’ve come up with a line like that.

Chloe: Ehehe, I’m glad to hear it! I think I can totally take on the real thing now.

Chloe: Thanks so much for helping me out, Figaro!

We Gotta Go All Out! - Card Episode

[Manor Living Room]

Chloe: This should go… here. And the fabric should be gathered here…

Akira: Good afternoon, Chloe. Is that a new dress design?

Chloe: Oh, Master Sage! Great timing!

Chloe: This is super random, but what kinda dress do you think would look good on Rustica!?

Akira: This is for Rustica, you say?

Akira: Um, I feel like he could make anything work, but maybe… He’d like one with a bluebird embroidered on it.

Chloe: You think so? Alright then, I’ll keep that in mind.

Akira: Did Rustica request this?

Chloe: Ehehe, these outfits are actually for a special class session.

Chloe: When I told the other Westerners about how nervous I was during the mission, they offered to give me a special lesson on escorting…

Chloe: We’re using transformational magic so I can have practice with both men and women!

Akira: Oh I see now! That sounds like a lot of fun.

Chloe: Right? Figaro also gave me some really good advice during the mission.

Chloe: Which is why he’ll be there too as a special guest instructor!

Akira: (A Western wizard lesson with Figaro in attendance… I’m really curious now…)

Akira: …Hey, do you think there’s room for one more? I want to see how your lesson goes.

Chloe: Of course there is! In fact, you should join us as a participant!

Chloe: I’ll make sure to design you the most beautiful dress and dashing suit ever!

Home Screen Voice Line

“Ehehe, do you remember how I gave everyone presents to show my appreciation the other day? Well, as a thanks for the thanks, some of them gave me a gift back. I totally wasn’t expecting it, so it made me super happy. W- Wait, you’re giving me one too!?”

#mhyktl #mahoyaku #mhyk #chloe collins #mahoutsukai no yakusoku #figaro garcia #this should be mhyk required reading #im so serious

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agaypanic · 1 year

Note

If this request motivates you at all-

Can we get a friends to lovers (?) with Michael Kelso x gn!reader where it’s like that scene where Jackie finds out that Hyde cheated on her, but instead of Jackie it’s reader. Later on Kelso finds reader trying to cry in silence, so he decides to try and cheer them up in his own himbo way.

The Playboy's Comfort (Michael Kelso X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: When you found out that Hyde cheated on you, you were left destroyed. When you need some help, you’re surprised by how comforting Kelso can be.

***

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you first started dating Steven. You knew about the alcoholic mom, the abandonment issues, all the things he tried to make unknown or seem unimportant by covering it with aloofness and weed.

But it was all so worth it once you got him to open up, past a friend level. He was sweet, in his own rough way. He let you wear his band shirts, saying so people knew you were his. But really, he just loved seeing you in his clothes. Your designated spot in the basement went from the end of the couch to his lap, because according to him, the view of the TV was better. But you knew it was because he liked being close to you. And you always sat in the passenger seat of his El Camino, even if someone else called shotgun. Everything felt perfect, except for one thing.

Steven seemed to have a problem with you and Kelso hanging out. It was fine if the whole gang was around, because then Steven could smack Kelso if he tried anything. You didn’t really understand the jealousy. Even though Kelso was always flirty, you two were just friends. But you just dealt with it. It was a little difficult, considering you and Kelso were close friends before you even started dating Steven, but you just went along with it. You didn’t want to start a fight over Kelso, of all people.

You were alone in the basement, waiting for your boyfriend to come home. He was working at the hotel during some kind of nurse convention. You both knew he’d be busy with it for the next few days, so he promised he would come home for his lunch break to spend time with you today. You were excited. Even though he made decent money from working in the kitchen, you saw him less than you used to. But today, he was stopping by the Hub, and you two would be enjoying crappy and greasy food soon.

“Oh, thank god you’re here.” A voice wept as someone busted open the door to the basement. It surprised you to see Kelso looking distressed. “You’ll never believe what just happened.”

“Kelso, are you okay?” You set the random comic you were reading down just in time for him to launch himself onto the couch, head in your lap. He curled up, looking scared. “What happened?”

He sighed, building up the courage to tell you what he just experienced. He mumbled something into your thigh.

“Say that again. I didn’t hear you.”

“... Fez had a sexy dream about me.”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. The sentence was so ridiculous, yet so believable.

“Oh?” That was all you could say without breaking down giggling.

“He said I was sponge-bathing him in a nurse’s outfit.” You exhaled through your nose to calm yourself down. But when you looked down, all amusement left. Kelso seemed genuinely traumatized. You sighed, combing a hand through his hair, which seemed to calm him down a bit. “Promise you won’t tell anyone. Especially Hyde. He’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“Kelso, it’s not that bad.”

“Y/n., I’m serious.” You rolled your eyes, but you supposed he had a point. Steven would hold this over Kelso’s head forever.

“Okay, fine. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Especially Hyde.” You continued stroking his hair.

“You’re the best, Y/n.”

***

It was the next day. You hadn’t seen Steven at all. He missed lunch with you yesterday and you never heard anything about a reschedule. But you knew that he was working today, so you decided to stop by. Maybe work was so hectic that he had forgotten that he was supposed to meet you for lunch. If all the nurses were like Kitty when she got a drink in her hand, you’d understand him missing your little get-together.

You went to the back of the hotel, where the staff parked. You knew he was here because you saw his El Camino in his favorite spot. God, how you loved that car.

You walked to the back door, about to open it, when it almost hit you in the face. You took a quick step back and saw Steven. His chef coat was balled up in his hands, and he was wearing his sunglasses. He looked surprised to see you.

“Hey.” He was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey, Steven. You missed our little lunch date and I haven’t really seen you, so I wanted to check on you. Are you on your break?”

“Uh, yeah, I am. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, okay. Wanna sit in your car?”

“Sure.” The two sat in the El Camino. You could sense something was wrong with Steven, but you couldn’t think of what it could be.

“So…” You dragged the word out. Not getting the hint that you were waiting for him to talk, you got to the point. “What did you wanna talk to me about?”

He took a deep breath and took off his glasses. His eyes were red. But not the kind of red they would get after being in the circle. More glassy-eyed.

“I saw you with Kelso yesterday. And I heard you two talk about keeping a secret.” You thought back to yesterday and went through the conversation you had with Kelso. You suddenly realized that from an outside perspective, especially Steven’s perspective, that conversation could have been about something different.

“Steven, I swear, it’s not what you think.”

“I know.”

“Kelso was really freaked out about something, but he didn’t want me to tell anyone about it because it was really embarrassing for him.”

“I know.”

“But I promise, Steven, nothing is going on between us.”

“Y/n.” Steven’s voice was stern, but still soft. “I know. But…”

“But what?”

“I found out earlier today. But before I did, I was really angry.” He paused, sighing. “There was this nurse.”

You didn’t like where this was going. At all.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t even say it, but you knew exactly what happened.

“How could you, Hyde?”

He was taken aback by the sudden name change.

“Hyde?” Ever since you first started dating, you always called him Steven when you weren’t calling him some silly or sickly sweet nickname. Even when you two were fighting, you didn’t call him by his last name. “Wait, no. Y/n, please.”

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.”

“No, Y/n, it’ll never happen again. I promise.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” He didn’t have an answer for that. You needed to get out of here. You suddenly hated being in his car. You hated the shirt of his that you were wearing. You hated him. “We’re done, Hyde.”

He reached for you as you opened the door.

“Baby, please.”

“Don’t.” There was finality and pain in your tone. His hand slowly drew back, and he let you leave.

***

A breakup was always hard. But this was more than that. Hyde was one of your first friends, you knew each other for over ten years. Dating him just deepened your bond. But now that was all shattered.

When you got home, you packed up all the things that Hyde had given you over the past year. You put on a sweater and threw the Led Zeppelin shirt you were wearing into the box, along with other little trinkets. Now all you had to do was give it to him. But you didn’t want to see Hyde. You couldn’t even bring yourself to go to the Forman’s house right now because you knew he’d be there.

So, you called Kelso.

Sure, he was part of the reason that led to you and Hyde breaking up. But he was still one of your closest friends. Plus, you knew everyone else was either busy or didn’t have a car.

“Thanks for helping me with this, Kelso.” You said, handing the box to him. He put it in his van and looked at you, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It’s the least I could do. I feel really bad about being the reason you two broke up.”

“Oh, no, it’s not your fault.” He gave you a knowing look, which was weird because he wasn’t really aware of anything. “Okay, maybe a little. But he cheated on me because of an assumption.” God, you couldn’t even say Hyde’s name out loud.

“Well, getting rid of his stuff will help you get over him. Really drives home the point that you’re over. If Jackie did that the first time we broke up, we wouldn’t have gotten back together so many times.” You couldn’t help but snort.

“Yeah, that’s why you kept getting back together.”

“What can I say? People can’t get enough of me.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Feeling tired of standing, you sat on the floor of Kelso’s van. He sat next to you, drumming up a beat on his thighs with his hands. You looked behind you, to the box of Hyde’s things. It used to be yours and Hyde’s. Now it’s just Hyde’s.

Kelso was right. You and Hyde were really over.

“Oh, geez. Come here.” Kelso sighed, putting an arm around your shoulders to hug you. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if it’s not?” You sniffled. “I’ll still have to see him all the time. We’ve had the same friends since we were like seven. I’ll have to look at his stupid face and keep thinking about what he did.”

“I could beat him up if you want.” You laughed, despite the tears that kept coming.

“Kelso, I don’t think you’d get very far. You’ll come back with a black eye.”

“Yeah, probably. But it’d be worth it.” He rested his head on yours. “I really am sorry, Y/n.”

“I just wanna feel better.” Kelso hummed like he was thinking of something. He suddenly sat up straight, eyes darting to the box behind him before looking at you.

“I have an idea.”

***

“I don’t know about this Kelso, it’s still his stuff.”

“He cheated on you, Y/n!”

“You cheated on Jackie multiple times. I don’t exactly think you have the moral high ground on this.”

Kelso had taken you to Mount Hump. At first, you were threatening to jump out of the van, because how could he try to take advantage of you while you’re so vulnerable? But then he explained his idea on how to get you past Hyde and the breakup.

Throw everything he gave you off a mountain.

“Come on, Y/n, it’ll make you feel good.” Kelso set the box down on the ground and looked through it. He pulled out a bracelet and handed it to you.

“Aw.” You fiddled around with the bracelet before looking up at Kelso, who was waiting for you to do something. “I dragged Hyde to the mall one time, and I saw this bracelet in the window at some snooty shop. But I couldn’t afford it. Later that day, he pulled it out and put it on me. Apparently, when I was trying some clothes on, he went back to the store and swiped it for me.” It was one of the sweetest things he had given you, even though he stole it.

You threw it as hard as you could.

“Give me something else.”

“That’s the spirit!” Kelso handed you something else from the box. Not even looking at it, you threw it.

Soon enough, the box was empty, and you and Kelso were looking at the view.

“You know, it’s kinda weird to see something besides a bunch of panties here. But you were right, it did make me feel better.” You turned to Kelso and went up on your toes to hug him. “Thank you, Kelso.”

“No problem.” The squeezing hug he gave you felt so comforting, like he was taking the last of the hurt out of you. You heard him take a deep breath, and then he kissed the side of your head. Confused by the affection, you pulled away slightly. He looked a little startled, like he was scared about what you’d do next.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He nodded. You didn’t really want to have a rebound this soon, especially with Kelso being that rebound. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t like the affection.

“Um… wanna get something to eat?”

“I’d like that.”

#michael kelso x reader #michael kelso #that 70s show #that 70s show x reader #agaypanic

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solradguy · 6 months

Note

Is Sin like, a Christian? You’ve talked about how Ky is a certain kind of Christian recently and I know Sin has a cross, but I wasn’t sure if that was a bit or a joke? Is he praying?

Mostly I’m just confused because I see like two topics of conversation around Sin and it’s his father issues (for either of them) and him being 5. Sometimes it’s about him giving Ram a sandwich. Even if it’s not a big part of his character (he’s not Ky, after all!) it seems like it gets mentioned more as a joke so I’m not sure if it’s like a serious…character trait, I guess?

I kind of get the impression that Sin is religious but not to the same degree as Ky is. We've seen multiple instances of Ky praying or otherwise being in a Christian church (GG2Overture Material Collection and an opening scene in Lightning the Argent chapter 1, part 2 are two examples) while Sin's expression of religion has been a lot more subtle. He's wearing a crucifix in all of his designs through Overture, Vastedge, Xrd and his new Strive outfit, to begin with:

Baby Sin is also wearing what seems to be the same one:

Dizzy almost definitely was not raised with any sort of religion comparable to Christianity; Ky would had to have introduced her to it and then raised Sin into it. Sin wearing the crucifix even through Overture when he was the most mad at Ky says a lot, I think, about Sin's feelings towards his religion. If he didn't have any sort of faith in it and it was solely Ky's thing, why continue wearing it?

He brings up God to Ram in Xrd Sign when trying to explain what emotions and opinions are to her:

Sin: Well, c'mon, what does "right" even mean anyway? Let's say Ky and the old man think something tastes bad, but I like it. Does that make me wrong? In a way everybody's right, see? They're right to say it tastes bad, and I'm right to say it tastes good.

Ramlethal: I don't understand your example.

Sin: Arg... How do I say this... Oh, got it! Do you believe in God?

Ramlethal: God? I acknowledge that the concept exists, and people find value in it, but without further evidence, I can't authoritatively state whether or not--

Sin: No, I'm asking you how YOU feel about it! Remember when you ate that hamburger? You had an opinion on it, YOUR opinion. Like that...

Ramlethal: I...I don't know...

Sin: You're impossible! All right, let's try something else. Look out that window.

Ramlethal: ?

Sin: [looking at the starry sky] He he. This is the real reason I'm here. Doesn't that look pretty?

Ramlethal: ...I don't know.

Sin: I think you just don't have the words to describe how you feel. See, I think that's suuuuuuuuuuuuuper pretty.

Ramlethal: Um...?

Sin: To me, that's enough. The way I feel, the way this looks... I don't want somebody trying to explain that to me with big words or fancy ideas. I just like the explanation "This sky looks beautiful because God made it that way." So to me, that would be a good reason for God to exist. Do you think that's the right answer?

Ramlethal: That's just what you WANT. It doesn't make anything real.

Sin: Maybe, but I don't think everything needs to be black and white. You don't need to shove yourself into a corner and tell yourself you have to be something.

That last bit about Sin crediting the creation of the sky to God might be the most concrete bit of evidence we have to gauge where on the scale his faith is. He's a smart kid and quick at coming up with efficient solutions to unusual problems (like telling the highly intelligent Dr. Paradigm, who is an aquatic Gear, to breathe using magic instead of maintaining a ball of water around himself), but he still attributes something as easily explainable by science as the composition of the sky to God. There's also the fact that Sol has consistently had negative opinions towards religion/God when it's brought up too. He almost definitely would have had some kind of conversation about it with Sin at one point and Sin still maintained his faith despite that.

For now I'd say it would be fair to assume that Sin is at least moderately Christian and that he's serious about it, it's not part of a joke or other setup. Maybe future story stuff will expand on this aspect of his character more one day though.

Unfortunately, there's a lot of lore discussion where Sin is involved that boils down to it all being a joke when very little of it actually is. He's lighthearted and not great at thinking deeply about complex issues unless he has to, but he's by no means a gag character. Take any post/meme that treats him as pure comic relief with a grain of salt.

#asks #long post

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walnutofthedead · 10 months

Note

Can you do Yandere Mikoto x Gn! Reader headcanons?

Hahaha hah djbdhddhhdhd

The ask I’ve been waiting for frfr….

I’m so normal about yanderes (they’re fun to write leave me alone)

So uhm I MAY go a wee bit overboard here??? And May or may not have ended up doing the yan alphabet?? This is for Mikoto and not his alter, if you want an orekoto one just lmk <3

Prob will do a shortfic later

Yandere shit under the cut

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I see Mikoto as a physical affection type of guy tbh- Like, he’s still really sweet! Always nice with his words, but he’ll like randomly hug you from behind, hold your hand, a lot of things that most regular couples do.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Well… in terms of like, actual messes, he tries to be clean! Mikoto doesn’t particularly even want to hurt anybody. He’s not ALL bad…

With that said, sometimes, he has to. If someone is trying to steal you away and doesn’t heed his warnings, or if they hurt you, he has no choice but to put an end to that!

If someone hurts you, he’ll be more brutal.. not above torturing them if they’ve gone that far.

If it’s because he’s jealous, he’s a bit more nice. He doesn’t make it too painful. Maybe a blow to the head, a fast-acting poison…

After all, he can’t blame them for falling for you just like he did! It’s impossible not to~

They just don’t get to take you away from him. Never.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Nono! He’s a sweetie:c Mikoto honestly would just treat you with genuine respect and love,, be like, he loves you! He knows he’s already done something awful by abducting you and is sympathetic. Prob tries to make it as comfortable as possible.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Well… he’s definitely do a lot of hugging and stuff like that… but the furthest he’d go without (implied or direct) consent is just a peck on the lips<3

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

So here’s the thing- he’s delusional as fuck. He’ll just treat your relationship like he’d treat any regular one. He’s never invulnerable around you, but there’s definitely times he’s more vulnerable. Don’t hurt him please the silly:(

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

So confused and betrayed. You love him, so why are you fighting him? He only wants what’s best for you!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He takes this shit so seriously- istfg bro hates it when you try and escape :((( kind of a pushover tbh- like he’ll probably just try and make it even more comfortable for you whenever you try to leave.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being abducted is the worst it’ll get. Even while captive, he treats you with such care it’s baffling- he loves you!!!! Cmon pooks love him back ong

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

I feel like he daydreams about marrying them… like he has it all planned to a T. Probably already designed an outfit for s/o to wear at their wedding. We love a ✨ prepared ✨ mans

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets jealous and inhales lethal amounts of Copium. The poor silly

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Nah bro just acts like his normal self but like,, slightly more happy???

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Just approaching regularly, he has no issue going up and talking to them! When confessions are involved though, he has a much harder time… probably would opt for a love letter. A long, well-written one with little doodles on it !!

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Lmao nope

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He kinda just.. wouldn’t..? If he got really pissed somehow, he might like, lock them in their room or something… but he avoids using violence when possible.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not many! When he abducts them, he’s strict at first, but eventually even lets them go out so long as he’s there with them.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He’s incredibly patient. He doesn’t get angry very easily, and when he does, he calms down fairly quick. This is assuming he doesn’t switch to Orekoto, of course…

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Haha no

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Oh, absolutely. He’d feel like actual shit about it. Even with all the gaslighting himself to try and justify it, he knows taking someone captive like this is awful. And especially for such selfish reasons… that’s why he tries making it up to them by spoiling them!

He won’t let them go though. There’s no going back once you kidnap someone.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Hm……. I’d say probably just emotional dependency and bad attachment issues. He just happened to get a bit too attached to s/o.

-bonus hc: he gives his friends nicknames to make it feel like they have a deeper friendship than they do so they don’t drift away from him !

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Oh, he hates it- just seeing them sad or afraid breaks his heart. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just tries his best to comfort them with words.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Give his darling some MOTHERFUCKING FREEDOM-

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His willingness to trust. As I mentioned earlier, he gives a lot of freedom, and that only increases as his trust in them builds. Once he’s convinced they do, in fact, love him, and won’t try and leave, he’ll begin letting them go out alone for short periods of time so long as they let him track their location. You can already see how that could turn out in an unsatisfactory way for him…

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Nope. Or at least, it would take a lot for him to lash out and do so. And even then, it wouldn’t be that bad.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He doesn’t really worship them per se… but he will totally go to extreme lengths to win them over. No amount of time or money or effort is too much if it means a chance at winning his darling over <3

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Depending on outside factors like other people pursuing them, it could be anywhere between a few months and a couple years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Haha no.

#Mikoto kayano #kayano mikoto #mikoto kayano x reader #milgram mikoto #yandere mikoto #Yandere mikoto milgram #Yandere mikoto kayano #Yandere Mikoto kayano x reader #Milgram x reader #yandere milgram #Yandere milgram x reader #Milgram

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alkalische · 11 months

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I saw your Bagpipe redesign posts. I love your breakdown of her design and how you fixed it. There are so many cool characters in Arknights that then get depicted as Generic Skinny Anime Girls and it drives me bonkers. You and other artists on here are doing fantastic work and feeding us starving fans.

You mention Horn’s design throwing you out of immersion; big fucking same. I don’t know her backstory yet(not that far in the story) but she’s a soldier carrying around two giant shield/mortars/sword things(?). And they’re trying to tell us she’s not built like a brick shithouse??? I personally picture her sorta like @gothducky ‘s big buff butch depiction. And every time her character pops on screen I’m like “who are you???”. I didn’t even realize she didn’t have pants till seeing your redesign and it’s like WHY is she not wearing pants when fighting with fucking artillery shields….!!!!????

THANK YOU! It made me really happy to read that! I'm going to use your ask as an excuse to talk about character design issues i have in arknights so long post

(more under cut)

One of my only complaints about Arknights is how they'll introduce a character to be 'very big and strong and capable of pummeling your ass' and it is just noodlearms mcgee

(image: Hoshiguma, Nearl)

like i think BOTH of these designs are absolutely fantastic and are able to convey the character's personality very well, but i do Not. believe.

and hell yeah i love it when artists draw the women of arknights with the muscles they RIGHTFULLY deserve to have (big fan of @/dlartistanon's depiction of saria and nearl)

have this cropped saria i drew a while ago because buff women supremacy

Just a massive personal pet peeve is when, as i said in my bagpipe complaint post, the character is very 'tell, not show'. I think that no matter how interesting the character is in their files and in their story appearance, I'm still unable to connect with them if i'm unable to picture their design doing that.

It's especially egrigeous if the character is supposed to be wearing a uniform. I would actually have no problem with the 'thighs showing while fighting on a battlefield' IF. IF it's clear that that's supposed to be a casual outfit.

Like this is such an issue for me that i kind of zone out whenever a character comes up on the screen with a noticeably horny design (fuckin.. rockrock) because it's so distracting in a negative way

(Image: Rockrock)

I do Not know what the hell i'm supposed to tell from this design. I just know that i Do Not. like it and it makes me have little desire to learn more about the operator

In my opinion the designs in Victoria are very divisive because the good ones are very good (Bena, Shalem, Reed) and the 'bad' (more boring honestly) ones are very bad (Rockrock, Nightmare, whatever's going on in Skyfire's beach skin)

Sorry for rambling on and on i'm just very passionate about storytelling in character designs lmao

#arknights #character design #alk answers #art #saria

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quibbs126 · 10 months

Note

Helooooo, can I have espressoline fankid

All right, this is Opera Madeleine Cookie

Fun fact, technically this isn’t the only or first person to request Espresso/Madeleine, as someone else commented a request on the original post I made asking for requests. I believe the name was @cerulaenfunkz. It’s actually listed as my third request, but I guess I just never got around to it. I was originally trying to make it, but I was having so much difficulty figuring out what to do that I just went on to other ones, and I guess it just went to the back of my head. So yeah, of all the fankids, this is probably the longest time coming

Anyways, so Opera Madeleine is named after opera cake, because it’s a cake with coffee in it, but I changed the “cake” to “madeleine” since she’s part of House Madeleine, similar to Choco Madeleine’s name. Also I just think it sounds better

The original name I gave her way back when was Coffee Cake, but I didn’t like that and when I eventually discovered opera cake, I changed it

Opera cake:

I’ve already made my design struggles with her known, basically in that, I had the hair, hairpieces and gloves down, and I like those bits, but wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of her. And to be honest, I like the scarf and boots, but I kind of flubbed with the coat. I thought she’d look cool with a coat, but I also wanted to show off the boots, so I made it high up, and I don’t think it worked all that well. Not to mention I don’t really know what her upper half looks like, as you can see with the admittedly pretty bad sketch

You know what, I may just go back and edit her later to make her coat look better, it’s just bugging me

Edit: I did do that

Originally I gave her blue eyes like Madeleine, but I changed it to pink so she’d look closer to Espresso. Also because I wanted more brown/warm tones, but didn’t want to give up her blue outfit color scheme

All in all, I liked most of drawing her, but I flubbed the last bit and it looks kind of eh. I just didn’t know what to do for it, but I didn’t want to keep her in development hell for eternity and I wanted to do her hair, so I just went with something

Anyways, let’s get on to her

So Opera Madeleine is the heir to House Madeleine, however she is not a Paladin like her father Madeleine and instead chooses to use coffee magic like Espresso. However she still follows Madeleine in that she’s a warrior, she just prefers to use magic instead of a weapon. Granted I’m sure Madeleine still taught her to wield one just in case. And also she’s good at hand to hand combat

Chances are she went to school in Parfaedia, given they have a whole school for magic and from what I can gather, Espresso once went there himself

Unlike Madeleine she’s more of a no nonsense kind of person who’s more focused on her duties as a warrior. Not saying Madeleine doesn’t care about being a warrior, she’s just not as…prideful as him, not caring much about appearance. However one thing she refuses to publicly admit is that she takes great pride in her hair and goes through great lengths to keep it as pristine as possible. But that is the only thing

She’s a hard worker, but not as much of a workaholic as Espresso, as she doesn’t have nearly as much coffee in her dough to maintain that lifestyle. Also Madeleine made sure that she didn’t follow in his footsteps

I feel like I’ve talked a lot about Madeleine but little about Espresso. I imagine the two talk about coffee magic and such, but due to her differing interests in careers, she probably spends more time around Madeleine

I imagine when she was younger, Madeleine just showered her with adoration and tried to be a loving father. But if you asked her which of her parents was the coolest, she would say Espresso, much to Madeleine’s dismay (more like he gets moody that he’s not the favorite more than anything). She’d probably learn combat with Madeleine, but would also just wander off to find Espresso and just watch him do his work for hours on end, quietly sitting in his lab

Hmm, I think that’s all I have to say on her. I wasn’t expecting to write that much to be honest. But yeah, hope you like her

Edit: so as said earlier, she’s been edited, and this is the original if you’re curious

#yeah I think the outfit is just a mood killer for me #it’s the one thing I don’t like #ah well #maybe I’ll fix it later #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #madeleine cookie #espresso cookie #espresseleine #cookie run oc #fankid #fanchild #my ocs #my art #requests #answers #opera madeleine cookie

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springw6ter · 8 months

Text

Hi (nyfw thoughts)

Ok so first I just want to say that this fashion week was so boring and really sums up the kind of good idea drought we’re living in. BUT there was a fair share of discussion over some things so! instead of trying to fit my thoughts about everything on the app formerly known as twitter, I’m just gonna tell y’all here.

Shows talked about in this post; Proenza Schouler, Eckhaus Latta, AREA, Luar, Helmut Lang, Elena Velez and Tory Burch

Proenza Schouler

There’s no way Proenza was going to ruffle any feathers this season. They have a loyal following (which I’m sure has nothing to do with the celebrity affiliations of the brand) and a consistent history of people pleasing so they’ll always get their praise from Vogue. They dropped a new monogram which is the only “newness” they wanted to introduce. Jack McCollough said they wanted to continue last seasons narrative and they sure did! (Only thing different was no Sevigny). The clothes are obviously well made and evoke wealth in that special kind of iykyk way. Many people said this looked more like Helmut Lang than Helmut lang did (I’ll get to that later) and they’re not entirely wrong. Not gonna act like I wouldn’t wear this collection but definitely nothing groundbreaking.

Eckhaus Latta

Eckhaus latta is a brand that has always had a special place in my heart (maybe because I’m from the city that the two designers met and started the brand together in)(maybe). My style has definitely evolved since I first became aware of the brand but I’m always interested in what they’re doing. This season they got experimental! They worked with a 3D printing company named “Unspun” where they came up with jeans made from all different materials like hardware store twine and ikea plastic bags. The way they combined tech innovation and sustainability is not just commendable, it’s very forward thinking, which is a staple in the brands identity. With that being said some of the collection felt directionless in comparison to all of the innovation. The sheer (which dawned their new EL monogram) was very MNZ store to me but not in a bad way. I like that they’re not trying to be trendy and come up with new things however a-lot of brands were doing that so it makes me wonder if that’s a good thing or not.

AREA

I loved their modern Stone Age ladies. I think it was one of the only luxury focused shows where I was like wow! This is different. The fur printed coats were so gaudy and held its shape in the way good ol’ fur coats used to. I think this collection was really cohesive, adventurous, new. Everyone saw Saweetie wear it at the VMAs and even the unfashionable general public could see the yabba dabba reference. The prehistoric influence was chosen because as Piotrek Panscyzk said “pelts and bones were the first things humans had to build an identity around”. There’s definitely a case for a narrative about how much luxury (the hunger, the status) mirrors pre historic, pre civilized behaviors.

Luar

Raul Lopez is a diamond. This collection kind of came of as a continuation of last season as well but I like this brand so much that it feels good to me. I feel like Raul is constantly playing with this really restrictive, God-fearing way of being and an inhibition-less eternality. Padded shoulders, the top draped from the eyewear, perfect collared shirts, jeans and leather, it had all the perfect Luar moments for me. No notes.

Ok.. now on to the “controversial” shows

Helmut Lang

When Peter Do was announced as the new creative director of Helmut Lang, everyone rejoiced. Why? His strengths as a designer seemed like a natural fit for the brand. Expert tailoring, black and white as a main color palette, maybe a little overlap in philosophy.. but as the outfits came out people’s reactions… were… unfavorable to say the least. People saw the reference to key Lang moments like seat belt bondage, the use of Ocean Vuongs poetry (which I felt was terribly misunderstood), the classic button up and jeans as disappointing instead of nostalgic. For me, personally, I think everyone’s expectations were rooted in something that Peter Do could not have delivered. That expectation being Helmut Lang himself. People saw Do as the second-coming and that’s just the truth but where do we draw the line with our expectations on reliving the past and how do we honor the kind of openness necessary to evolution? I myself had to sit with the collection and came to the conclusion that maybe Peter is just defining a clear end to the Helmut era of yesterday and the start of his own journey now. After closely looking at the collection and it’s details you can see how wonderful the clothes really are. It is everyone’s responsibility to question and examine the things they “care” about and I think this fashion public is not patient enough for that. It wasn’t the greatest debut but it also wasn’t the worst. Anyway we’ll see what comes next.

Elena Velez

Mud gate ss24! Since her NYT article last year, people have been really fed up with Elena (I learned only after the mud fight started to circulate) and she doesn’t really seem to mind, she seems to like it actually. She argues online, she argues IN lines, she doesn’t pay people adequately and the list apparently goes on and on. This collection is called “the longhouse” and in her press release she says a lot of things about the commercialization, sanitization, condemning and control of womanhood, she talks about anti-heroines and contemporary female evil (which she loves to embody I guess) and she says that this show was ritualistic catharsis from oversocialization. I think it’s pretentious when someone has to use so many complex, institutionalized words to convey their message. She’s speaking in code. To be honest I like her clothes but I don’t think her designs are that original. I really want to raise the question who does her message benefit? We should all be allowed our multiplicity in this life, that’s true, but being a bad person in practice is something I’m personally not attracted to. I’m a little confused but it is what it is.

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO TORY BURCH!!!!

Who I think should be receiving a cease and desist from Miuccia Prada any moment now. This collection is such a departure from the Tory Burch we all grew up with. This must be that post divorce clarity. I like it! It’s 60s. It’s Prada. It’s miu miu. It’s Tory Burch now too!

If you made it this far I really appreciate you ♡ this was just for ki’s sake. It’s not my most critical thinking to date but there was discussion and I loved that. I wanted to contribute and this was the best way I could think of. Lmk if I should do this again with lfw!!

#nyfw #new york fashion week #eckhaus latta #proenza schouler #area #ss24 #spring summer 2024 #helmut lang #peter do #elena velez #luar #tory burch

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bellysoupset · 5 months

Note

SOUP!!! i know you’re focusing on the thanksgiving stuff rn and slay yes go off but this is me begging you to torture wendy sometime soon <3333 i know you know i love her and i’m trying SO hard not to be annoying about requesting her too much but ,,,, the type of dopamine i get whenever i read one of *those* fics (wen as sickie) is truly unreal and i’ve been craving it sm lately (and i’ve already reread all your old ones *almost* too many times LMAO) 🤭 also PLS DONT TAKE THIS AS ME PRESSURING YOU OR EXPECTING THINGS FROM YOU‼️‼️‼️ THATS THE LAST THING I WANT‼️‼️ THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DO‼️‼️‼️ im just putting this out there to gently suggest that you torture her whenever you have the time and energy to lolll <3

the trope can be literally anything you want but i’m really feeling a migraine fic 👀 like a bad one!!! but having her kind of hide it until she can’t anymore? and then vin maybe feeling all guilty about not noticing it sooner + him being all soft and adorable and worried? smiling and blushing just thinking about this ahhhh

thank u sm i love u

🦦

And 🧷 asked:

HI Just jumping on board the girly request train (To add this to your hoard for if you have the time/will). Consider, if you will: Wendy sick at work with Jonah as a not-so-great caretaker having to call Vince like "Come get your girl." (Wendy does deserve belly rubs and also just... hugs. Lots of them. And a gentle smooch on the forehead) (And you know I love bitchy Jonah and I can't think of a shittier caretaker /pos /aff /very affectionate /I love him okay?) -🧷

----

Jonah was in a bad mood. Which he knew wasn't saying much, because these days he was always in a bad mood, but whatever. He was in a shitty fucking mood.

Graduation was closer than ever, happening in a little less than two weeks. Meaning he had exactly 4 days to finish all the documentation and essays and double check his hours and also pick an outfit and send the bloody invitation to his mother and stepfather and his father, fuck, he had forgotten about-

"Switch with me," Wendy interrupted his stream of thoughts, entering the office area. Jonah let out a scoff, rolling his eyes.

"Absolutely not," he said, turning back to the paperwork he had been filling in. He had already done his hours in the ER, there was no way he was gonna do Wen's too.

"Please," Wendy said, although she didn't sound like she was asking, "switch with me, I'll take your hours tomorrow-"

"Nope," Jonah shook his head, not bothering to look up from where he was filing up the report of each patient he had had all day, "you're distracting me, Wendy."

"Jonah, I really can't do the ER right now-"

"No one likes the ER," Jonah shrugged, signing his name with a little too much force. He really wanted to go home. It was almost 10 PM and he still hadn't had dinner and although he didn't have classes tomorrow, he had so many things to hand in. Did he revise his residency application?

"Jon, please I..." Wendy whined and Jonah's head snapped up, pissed off.

"Wendy no," he glared at her, "I'm not switching, give up."

She pressed her hands to her face, before letting out a sigh and turning around, wordlessly leaving the office.

Jon's stomach sunk and he felt a pang to his chest, but he stood his ground. He had worked his hours today and he really needed to go home and Wendy was not going to puppy eye her way into getting him to do a double ER shift, not when he was this exhausted, even if it was just the remaining one hour and half.

He got back to the task at hand and by the time he glanced up again, it was time to get going. 11:30 PM, Leo would probably be asleep, Jonah thought sourly, locking all the documents inside of his designated drawer and getting up.

Claire was just getting in as Jonah walked to the doctor's staff to strip his white doctor coat and grab his bag as well as his scarf. She waved at him as he unlocked his locker, "hi, Jon."

"Hi Claire," he yawned, folding his coat.

"Uh..." Claire frowned as she unlocked her own locker. She shared with Wendy, but Wen's clothes were still inside, "that's odd, I didn't see her in the ER..."

Jonah felt a weird sense of unease wash over him. He draped the scarf around his neck, "here, take mine. Just let Todd know when he clocks in..." he said, "I'm gonna check if she's still clocked in."

Jonah hated the guy who had been doing the last round with Wendy. Chris wasn't just annoying as hell, he was also a careless idiot who messed up constantly. Jon had lost count the amount of times he had gone toe to toe with the guy.

"Chris," Jonah said, managing to get him alone just as he turned the hallways, Chris probably going to clock out too, "did you see Wendy?"

"No," Chris scoffed, glaring at him, "not since she bailed on me. If you find her, let her know that she's fucked. I made a complaint with our supervisor."

"What...?" Jonah frowned. Wendy didn't bail, Jon could count in one hand the amount of times she had taken time out of her clinic hours. She often covered for others. She would never just quit and up and leave.

"Yeah," Chris rolled his eyes, "said she was gonna get water and I haven't seen her since. I had to go through all of her fucking patients. Peters is gonna chew her up tomorrow."

"How long ago was that?" Jonah asked, feeling anxiety prickling all over him. This was widely out of characters.

"An hour ago? I don't know," Chris shrugged, before stepping around Jonah, "excuse me."

Jon didn't acknowledge him at all, already fishing his phone out of his pocket and pressing the 3, Wendy's speed dial digit. It rang and rang and no one picked up.

Her car was in the parking lot still, getting covered with snow. Shit.

"Wendy, it's me. Please pick up your phone, I'm worried," Jonah send her a voice message, before immediately trying to call again. If the car was still there, then she was still in the hospital.

The question was where? Their university hospital was a big place, since they were the reference not just for their town but for other five around them. It had four floors and was almost as large as a whole block.

"Shit, shit, shit," Jonah chanted, heading to the main nurse station near the ER. The head nurse from Wendy's shift probably had clocked out already, the new one wouldn't know where she was...

"Marjorie! Nurse Marjorie!" Jonah ran down the hall, catching her just as she was about to walk to walk out of the door to the parking lot. She paused, looking confused and spooked.

"Dr. Banks-"

"Hi," Jonah panted, catching up with her, "sorry, I didn't mean to startle you- Did you see Wendy?"

"Wendy?" she frowned and Jonah nodded.

"Dr. Marshall?"

Marjorie's frown twisted into a grimace, "oh yeah, downstairs," she nodded, "about twenty minutes ago? She was in a bad shape, poor thing."

"A bad shape?" Jonah's heart squeezed and he looked around as if he'd somehow spot Wendy in the crowd that was coming and going, "where was she exactly?"

"Well, I entered the ladies room and she wasn't looking so hot, but she said she'd go home, so..." Nurse Marjorie shrugged, "she's probably left by now."

"Which side?"

"West wing-"

"Thank you," Jonah shook her hand awkwardly, before turning around and running back towards the stairs. He just wished no supervisor saw him running around like that, he'd for sure get called out.

There were two bathrooms down in the west wing, where they got the x-rays exams done. One was gender neutral, then two gendered ones down the long hallway. Jonah made a silent prayer before entering the female bathroom.

It was empty.

Or rather, it seemed empty, but a small sob cued him to the fact that it wasn't so. Jonah power walked across the room, before knocking on the last stall, "Wendy? Wen, is that you?" please let it be her.

There was a small groan from inside, a voice he recognized and he spotted her white shoes peeking out, with the lilac details.

"Wendy, it's me," Jonah knocked again, "can you unlock the door, please?"

"Uhm..." she grumbled from inside and he heard the sound of fingers drumming on the door, as she clumsily attempted to unlock it. It took a minute before she managed to do so and then Jonah pushed it in, regretting it as Wendy let out a whine as the door hit her thigh.

He waited until she moved out of the way to push the door again and Jonah frowned. Wendy was sitting on the ground, one arm draped over the toilet, her head resting on her hand. The little he could see of her face, Jon could tell was extremely pale.

"Goddammit, Wendy..." he crouched down next to her, "Wen? Hey, look at me, sweetheart-"

"Hurss...hurts..." she slurred instead of answering him, her voice barely above a whisper. The toilet was empty, but Jonah could tell she had already thrown up at least once, if the wet spot in front of her baby green scrubs were anything to go by.

"What hurts, Wendy?" he leaned in, planting a hand on her shoulder. She was freezing, even though she was wearing a long sleeved shirt under the short sleeved hospital clothes.

"Head..." Wendy whimpered, curling up even more, sounding dangerously close to tears. She hugged her knees, pressing her forehead to them and rocked back and forth, "I don't feel well, Jon..."

"I know, Dee," Jonah whispered, moving even closer and ignoring the smell of vomit, so he could cup her chin and force her to lift her head, "let me see your eyes, Wendy."

They were filled with tears, squinting from the pain. The minute he raised her face, she flinched from the overhead white light, and gulped nervously, shoving his hand off her face.

"I'm... I'm gonna be sick..." she groaned, leaning over the toilet again. Jonah scrambled forward to grab her hair, immediately gagging as he felt one of the front pieces was already wet and sticky.

He buried his nose in his shoulder, gagging fruitlessly. There was nothing for him to puke and clearly, nothing for Wendy to bring up either, because after a little more retching, she let out a sob and resorted to resting her forehead to the porcelain, sobbing.

"No, darling, don't do that, this is disgusting..." Jonah cooed, sliding his hand between her forehead and the toilet and wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her up.

Although she was unstable as a newborn fawn, she didn't immediately collapse, clinging to his coat with all her force. Jonah pushed the stall door open, slowly guiding her to the sinks and Wendy slumped over the granite with her whole body, letting out a whine as he ran his hands under the tap to turn on the motion sensor and then ran his now wet, cold hands on her face, washing her mouth and chin, as well as the sick covered piece of hair.

"Shhh, you're okay, I got you," Jonah whispered, more for his benefit than hers, as Wendy's whole face scrunched up in pain, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

"I don't... I don't want you," she groaned and Jonah's stomach turned for a different reason, simple and plain guilt.

"I know, I'm gonna get you to Vin," he answered instead, "I'm really sorry, Wen, I didn't know you weren't feeling well..."

She let out another groan, ignoring his apology and Jonah bit his tongue to stop the string of words he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize again, he wanted to grill her about her symptoms, why she hadn't started off by saying she was sick previously when requesting he switched with her, why she hadn't told him...

She shuddered, hugging herself and Jonah stripped his coat, wrapping Wendy in it and closing the first button on the front. It was far too big for her, it reached the middle of Jon's thighs, but on Wendy the coat was brushing the floor.

Wordlessly she slumped forward, pressing her forehead to his chest and Jonah wrapped an arm around her, guiding her out of the bathroom.

As soon as they reached the ground level floor, she let out a loud whine. The place was much more crowded, so much more noisy, and Wendy let out a sob, pressing her face to his chest with even more force.

"Hurts..." She said, grabbing at the roots of her hair and pulling, to try and escape the pain inside her skull.

He left her planted on the couch in the waiting room, as he sped back to the staff quarters to retrieve her purse, as well as her other belongings. Wendy was rocking back and forth when he got back to her, much to the unnerving of the other patients, who kept glancing at her nervously as it looks like she was going to throw up.

"Okay, let's get you out of here," Jon whispered, wrapping his arms around her and guiding Wendy to the car. She shivered violently once they walked out of the hospital, the drastic temperature change hitting them both. Jon's teeth started to chatter and he forced Wendy to keep moving, pushing her inside her car.

"No, don't do that, Dee," Jonah whispered, holding her head as Wendy tried banging it against the window to stop the pain inside, "shhh, lie back down, lie down..." he lowered her seat a little bit, smoothing the hair out of her face.

Wendy let out a pitiful sniffle, curling up on herself, his coat serving as a blanket on top of her. She turned her head, away from his touch and Jonah's stomach sunk a little more.

He parked inside her building, in her designated spot and then scrolled through his contacts. Wendy seemed to be asleep and he didn't want to wake her up unneededly so.

"Hello?" Vince sounded half asleep and Jonah glanced quickly at the clock. It was almost midnight, no wonder, "Jon?"

"Hey," he whispered, "I have Wendy with me, can you unlock the door, please?"

"Wen... Why? What's wrong with her? Are you outside-" there was rustling around, "I don't see you outside."

Jonah rolled his eyes, "I'm downstairs in the parking lot, she-"

"Is she okay? Let me talk with her."

"She's asleep," Jonah started to say, but Wendy stirred and groaned, turning to blindly grab his phone.

"Is that Vin?" she whined, not bothering to open her eyes and, in Jonah's ear, Vince exclaimed.

"Wendy!"

Jonah let out a scoff, "just unlock the door," then hung up, turning to Wendy, "can you walk?"

"Yes," she said, sounding annoyed. She pushed the door open and stumbled out, bracing against the car and taking deep breaths, "my head is exploding."

"You sound better than before," Jonah said hopefully, circling the car to hold her arm, "c'mon, Dee."

"Uhm..." Wendy slumped against him, letting him guide her the rest of the way and Jonah chewed on the inside of his cheek, pressing the elevator button.

"I'm really sorry about before, Wendy. I had no idea you were sick, if I knew I'd have switched."

"It's fine," she said sourly, crossing her arms, "it's fine."

"Wanna say that one more time?" Jonah said, "doesn't sound fine."

"Shut up, Jonah," Wendy groaned, pressing her forehead to his bicep with all her force, "I don't have the energy for this, just shut up."

As soon as the elevator came to a stop, Vince was already there. In the middle of the hallway, wearing just sweatpants, socks and a huge orange hoodie that made Jonah cringe in distaste. His curls were a messy mane around his head and he had been clearly about to fall asleep.

"Hey, hey..." he crossed the hallway in two steps, cupping Wendy's face, "what's wrong, honey?"

She let out a groan, that quickly morphed into a whimper, "my head..."

"Migraine?" he guessed, glancing up worriedly to Jonah, who flinched as if he was somehow guilty for Wendy's migraine.

"Yes, she threw up earlier-"

"It's not as bad anymore," Wendy scoffed, glaring at his direction, before snuggling up with Vince, wrapping her arms around his middle, "I just wanna lie down."

"Thank you for bringing her home," Vince whispered, offering Jonah a big, relieved smile, which only made him feel ten times more guilty. Vin was unaware to his little conundrum, hugging Wendy to him and bringing her inside the house.

Jonah followed them in, planting Wendy's keys and her purse on the little living room table that was littered with books and notecards, where Vince clearly had been studying.

A minute later Vince emerged from the room, having tucked Wendy into bed, Jon's coat draped over his arm, "here. Thank you Jon..."

"Please don't say that," Jonah cringed, taking the coat back, "tell Wendy to call me when she feels better."

Vince frowned, confused, but he nodded, "yeah, of course. Are you calling a taxi?"

"Yes-"

"You can wait in here," Vince said hopefully, "or just crash the couch, it's no problem-"

"No," Jonah shook his head. He was feeling terrible, he really didn't want to stay and witness anymore of Wendy in pain, "no, I have to go home. Leo's probably having a heart attack, I should've been home two hours ago."

It was a little lie. Yes, Leo would be stressing if he was aware, but more probably he was simply asleep by now.

"Okay," Vince crossed the room and then pulled Jon into a hug, causing the man to let out a startled yelp.

"Let go of me."

"Thanks again, man."

"Yeah, let me go..." Jonah shoved him off, "and tell Wendy not to worry about tomorrow, I'll explain to her supervisor what happened."

"Thank you," Vince nodded, although he wasn't sure what he was nodding along with, "you're a great friend."

Jonah grimaced, "yeah, bye."

#well this WAS supposed to be about wendy lol #mywriting #wendy marshall #migraine #🦦 anon #🧷 anon

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