#but i'm sure the pieces are easy to put together
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IT IS HAPPENING LADS!! SAM VIMES COSPLAY!!
I've dreamed of doing this for years and now that I've finally gained the Secret Knowledge of Foam Armour, I can finally go for it!
Jokes aside, I asked a couple of cosplay pros for advice at the last con and they were all super nice & answered every single one of my questions, in detail!
So far the breastplate, backplate and badge are done and I'm super happy. Detailed process under the cut!
How it went:
First, the pattern! Shoutout to the guys at cosplay-atelier for the recommendation. They pointed me to kamuicosplay, because they sell downloadable patterns for all sorts of things, including armour. Which is how I got to this:
Downloaded two of their breastplate patterns, smooshed them together and altered them to fit my body and the look I wanted. I did all of that with thick paper. Then I took it apart again and traced the bits onto 5mm EVA foam that I ordered from a cosplay store.
Then I numbered and cut all the pieces and glued them together! I used hot glue, cause it's more accessible and less intimidating for me than other types of glue. It isn't as strong as other recommended glues, but works fine for me. (used many pointers from this tutorial.)
However, safety point: I've seen it recommended to wear breathing protection when heating up foam in any way whatsoever, and that includes hot glue, heat shaping and heat sealing. Use a respirator or other breathing protection that is made specifically for chemical fumes & work outside or in a well ventilated area (i.e. open ALL the windows)! Ask at your local hardware store if you're unsure.
PSA over. Now to the painting stage!
The scratches I made with my fingernails and the tip of a pair of scissors. XD Then I covered everything in 2 layers of black flexipaint (which is a water-based flexible paint/primer that works really well on foam). After that, I worked with regular artist's acrylic paint. Above you can see the first layer being applied with dry-brushing.
Then I went over it with a dark brown wash to make it look dirty (mix black & brown acrylic paint with water & apply liberally)
Then I went over it again with bronze by applying the paint with my fingers, wearing a plastic glove. (Same tutorial as before.) making sure I don't get any paint in the scratches. And then finally, another dark brown wash to make it all look nicely weathered. I did accidentally remove some paint by going over it too often with the wash, but it wasn't too hard to fix.
And this is the costume test, after adding velcro! It's really easy to put on and take off. I'm a bit worried about the velcro on the sides, but I can always add straps on the outside if it doesn't hold up.
Next was the badge:
I referenced a pin badge that came out as a collectible a few years ago (sadly out of stock), cause I love the design! Carved in the letters and lines by drawing on it with a ballpoint pen and applying a lot of pressure. Then painted it with the same process as the breastplate, just with copper instead of bronze.
And just for funsies: here's the back of the breastplate in all its glorious mess XD
On the right side you can see how I attached the badge: By cutting a slit through the breastplate and making a velcro attachment. That way I can remove the badge and add, say, a sprig of lilac, should my fancy take me there. Reason being that our biggest con is in May.
If you know, you know.
Annnnd here it is; the finished breastplate with badge:
I'm honestly having the time of my life. It's a super fun project and I am very excited to see how it turns out! I'm already working on the cape with a good friend of mine (I despise sewing, she loves it XD) and have materials on the way to make some bits of chainmail.
#Discworld#Sam Vimes#Samuel Vimes#Commander Vimes#cosplay#cosplay process#foam armour#fantasy armour#foam crafting#terry pratchett#city watch#night watch
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7/30 - 8:23PM - Conflicting Thoughts
Content warning: if you're sensitive when it comes to the subject of weight loss/desired weight loss/poor body image, either stop reading now or continue with much caution.
~*~
I'm doing well all things considered: the most discomfort and pain I'm feeling physically are from my damn drains, but there isn't much coming through them so if that keeps up and the amount of fluid remains low, I might be able to go in early to get them taken out so that's good.
Mentally, I'm all over the place when I'm not asleep or totally distracted, lol.
For the most part: I'm happy I finally got the surgery. I really am. I've been waiting six years or more for this and to finally have it happen, it's really great.
But I also am still almost... afraid to look at my results? It's part of why I haven't taken the compression binder off yet - that and I'm just plain afraid to because the paperwork said I have to keep it on as much as humanly possible lol.
I've seen so many different result photos for the different types of chest surgery, and like... the results I like best are always the ones from different types than the one I had. Obviously there is nothing I can do about that but it's still stressing me out more than it should. It probably doesn't help that I've been trying to look up photos of what my scars might look like but since it's hard to filter for specific types of surgery style, I keep seeing pictures of guys who are much smaller than me/have the body type I want/were able to get surgeries that wouldn't have much scarring and I'll just be upfront, it makes me really jealous and then I get pissed off that I'm jealous, and then I feel bad about the whole thing, and it's a mess lol. It sucks.
Part of me is excited to be able to wander around shirtless as soon as I've recovered for the most part, but I also know that I won't actually be excited when it comes down to it, or at least I won't be able to get over my insecurity enough to do so when it comes down to it because of my weight.
And the cruelly ironic thing about my chest being flatter now is that it's made me even more hyperaware of everything else I hate about my body even now, and I haven't even taken the compression binder off yet. Granted, I know some of it is probably just bloating and general Bleh from all the medications and the healing and such but still.
So there's that, but it also makes me worry I won't be happy with my results once the bandages and everything come off. I know there's gonna be scars and I'm gonna try my hardest with scar care to make sure it all heals as invisibly as possible but I also hear so many horror stories - dog ears, nipples that are too low or too odd looking, puckered scarring, etc. - and I worry that I'll end up with some or more of that stuff.
A lot of worry I can't do anything about right now though and I need to try and let go. I'm working on it.
The insecurity stuff though... I dunno. I'm already down fifty pounds luckily from like... middle of last year I wanna say. But of course, the stomach is the last place fat leaves, so while I've managed to start fitting into smaller jeans, there's been no real change in the place I'm really hoping to see change and it's frustrating, and it's going to be even moreso now I think because now that I have a flat chest, the protrusion of my stomach is going to be even more noticeable.
I'm well aware that this isn't anything I should care about, and fully aware of the internalised fatphobia that probably contributes to this, but at the same time, it's also a bunch of emotions that I'm incapable of changing at the moment. In addition to that, I have other reasons for wanting to shed weight - having juvenile arthritis, extra weight is extremely painful for my joints and my bad knees to deal with, and I want to be able to actually do more than walk up a few flights of stairs before I get out of breath. I wanna get into shape.
My mom said I might be more likely to get into a proper workout routine once I heal up and she's probably right - my insecurities before surgery were a huge reason I didn't work out, because I was too terrified of anyone seeing me, so I didn't go out or to the gym, and I didn't want to be seen even by my family really.
I dunno. It's harder than I thought it would be. I knew that this in and of itself wouldn't solve all my problems, that's absurd, but I figured I ought to at least... I don't know. Get the feelings out.
The photo I shared out of surgery (on my social media; I didn't post it here since I had posted the video already), I never would have shared if I hadn't been hopped up on pain meds and the remnants of anaesthesia and I cracked a joke about that on Snapchat and Facebook.
Objectively there is nothing wrong with that photo. Except for my face which I have problems with lol. But also - my stomach. I never, ever, show my stomach in photos if I can help it and had a moment of outright panic where I almost deleted it - but I would have lost all the kind words folks commented if I had, so I didn't, but leaving it up still puts a bad taste in my mouth.
It sucks but here's hoping things stabilise or even out, I guess, emotion-wise. I dunno. About the actual surgery, there's no (perceived) regrets really, which is good. My biggest thing is worrying that sensation/feeling won't come back. And because I'm bigger and couldn't get one of the less invasive surgeries like smaller folks can get, the fact of the matter is, it's very unlikely I'll get the feeling back according to most people I've talked to. Ultimately, I'll take the trade off but it's still a bit of a bummer.
Other than that though, no negative thoughts about the surgery itself, just the things about me that it's made me aware of. That and the general anger and bitterness I have toward my... lot in life if that makes sense? That I've been feeling a lot lately.
I'm well aware that I am so very lucky to have gotten this surgery. I know that. But for the last few months, I've been so angry all the time about how I - and everyone else in my situation - have to fight so much harder just to grasp at things that other people just get simply by being born. So even though I know I'm lucky to have this surgery, I'm somehow also just... really pissed off I had to get it at all, if that makes sense?
I don't know, most of this is disjointed and probably doesn't make sense lol. I figured, if I'm gonna do this whole journal thing, I should be open and as vulnerable as I'm able to be in case other people come across it because I know one thing I wished I had had at my disposal while planning this surgery was full-view knowledge of it. Not just the basics, but the shit people dealt with in the days after, how they were feeling, what conflict they inevitably faced, because this is a big thing, there is almost always going to be shit like that but it's rare for people to talk about it.
But yeah. I think I pretty much got out most of what I'm stressing about in as concise a manner as I'm able. The rest would just be ranting now, I think.
I don't have a good way to end this. Um.
If you haven't watched Strvnger Th1ngs, you should. This season was insane. Yeah.
#journal entries#also to the few folks i have sent this blog link to who don't actually know what the surgery i had was... yeah that's in part because of#all the insecurities; i avoid telling anyone this shit anymore these days because of it#but i'm sure the pieces are easy to put together#it's not that i don't trust yall it's more that i just don't want to acknowledge it at all ; to myself or anyone else#it's tricky
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congrats on writing the fic that made a man text his (sort of estranged) dad. fr your portrayal of every single dynamic is so flawless and considerate. nobel prize.
THAT ACTUALLY DOES FEEL LIKE AN ACCOMPLISHMENT... i hope it goes well anon!!!
there's a lot to be said about people who did the wrong things but feel genuine remorse and want to get better, i think. i've been there (though not in a parent sense), and it's also what happened with my mom after i moved out, so i guess i kind of know how it is from both angles. on top of, you know, just writing what i know of who chilchuck is as a person (and assuming a lot of things about meijack and the others, lmao...)
#tox answers#tox.txt#fic: promises to keep#i've never known my biological father and atp my step-dad can eat lead paint for all i care#but dynamics aren't as gender-locked as people think they are anyway so my experience works fine for what i need#i think chilchuck is a very good and very flawed person (ryoko kui is super good at writing nuanced characters)#he wants to improve not only for himself but for those he cares about... but the way that manifests in canon is something of a winding road#in promises i tweaked a bunch of story elements and then asked myself how i thought that'd change his responses#if he knew from the outset why his wife left him would he then have a better understanding of what he needed to change about himself?#in a world with cellphones it was easy for him to reach out in the moment#in canon i think even if he knew where she went immediately... by the time he went looking the anger would have set in#so even if he wanted answers i'm not sure he'd have been willing to listen at that point#this is what's fun about AUs to me--putting characters in situations they've never been in canonically (or altering the ones they were in)#and then asking “how does this affect their response? how does my understanding of them piece together with this new situation”#every individual choice in the setting and to the lore of the world affects how these known dynamics will play out#whoops wrote an essay in the tags. GOMENASAI
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Not looking forward to tomorrow (< Schrodingers Horrors at work)
#last week at one of our clients houses there was an Accident with the Dosematic#which is a fun little piece of equpiment that takes fertilizer concentrate and doses it out to the proper rate right#blooming and rooting is supposed to be put out at 2Tbs/gallon. inside the dosematic's tank we have it at roughly 1:4 of fertilizer:water#last week. the dosematic tipped over. i am not sure how. I do not usually run at work. I don't need to. i am not good at running#but by god am i good at sprinting. jesus fuck am i good at sprinting. dosematic and its dolly all tipped over. spilling about 3 gallons#of hyper concentrated fertilizer onto the grass#it has been so so long since i've teetered on the edge of an anxiety attack and held myself together by raw force of will#but we did that last week#i think the only other times my hands have been that fucking shakey was when I was getting into my first aid kit#after witnessing a fucking car accident. so that i could stop a guy bleeding from the head.#i am so. so so so worried. that we are going to get there. and ther'es going to be dead grass and dead spiderwort and mexican heather#like. god. plants are so expensive. that would be an easy $250 worth in damages to be replaced if it's dead. that's just the PLANTS that#i know. not the grass. i don't deal in sod and grass seed#i do not want to go to work tomorrow i'm so fucking nervous.#but also last week was a fun adventure in ''my mental health has been steadily declining for 5 days how bad could it be''#and then i cried four times at work lmao (< previously in my five years of working there. i had only cried three times. all three of which#involved some sort of injury to my person. one of which landed me in the hospital. like VALID reasons to cry y'know)#ANYWAYS.#not looking forwardd to tomorrow peace and love on planet earth.
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i have GOT to stop spontaneously staying up til 4 a.m. to mess around with theme customization, it's ridiculous
#just me hi#This is a repeat occurrence and Every Time I don't see it coming#During the day when I have nothing to do I can't remember to do it but yeah sure I have time. AT 2:30 A.M. ?#//hmm. thinking of Wares#If I sold things what would I sell....#The easy answer is either old paintbrushes for a discount or magical sticks that cast nondescript spells#But if it was irl maybe I would sell.............. beads?#Beads are pretty cool#You don't think it often but there are SO many types of beads#It's really cool !#The only sad thing is that I can't possibly know or have every bead ever. It's just not possible#/It's module art! Each little piece can be and is its own little world of imagination and consideration#Pretty neat!#You put it together and now you have something! You can wear it! You could give it away! You could carry it across the sea with you like a#friend in a locket! You could break it apart and rearrange it! You could hide it! Adore it! Loath it! Attach mirage meanings to it!#But it's just a bead :°#And it's so special too#Like there's a garish bracelet of jewels. It's shiny and sharp and it's nice and expensive#And then there's the bracelet your little sister made out of beads from the dollar store with your name mispelt in pink and yellow#The resell value isn't much unless I'm buying it back#//ok bead thoughts over! I need a system to remember where I leave my pens#I've lost 2 this week it's a TRAVESTY I tell you!!#I liked that purple one a lot too. Sigh. RIP#//oh crackers forgot about tag cuts hvhbs- let's see if these tags remain unedited !#//edit; YAYY
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 11 ] || [ Chapter 13 ]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader
Words: 1.4K~
Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
a/n: i'm in love with gaz x2 date scene fully inspired by this artwork by @mindie-arts
Chapter 12: A Date?
Sitting across from Gaz in the warm japanese restaurant under a warm-toned lamp, you find yourself a bit flustered by how cute he looks.
Sure, you knew he was cute, of course… His pictures on Tinder more than showed it. He’s the epitome of a pretty boy, all polite and sweet, smiling bright, with those warm brown eyes that look more like pools of melted chocolate that you could find yourself sinking into like quicksand.
He ordered extra meat for himself and is currently scooping it into his bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen as you regale him with your tales of your night with Simon.
“Now, hold on-” He stopped you just as you were biting into your jammy soft-boiled egg.
“Hm?” You questioned as you cocked a brow.
“So… Let me get this straight-” He said as he slowly stirred the slices of pork in the hot broth of his ramen. “You and Ghost didn’t-” He trailed off.
“No!!! I already told you!” You replied as you shoved the rest of your halved egg into your mouth and chewed.
“Hm…” Kyle replied with a bit of an awkward smile as he started softly slurping his noodles.
“Why, ‘Hm’? What does that mean?” You asked him with a cocked brow. Kyle simply shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“I just think it’s… curious.” He admitted and shrugged. “Like… Simon is very secretive.” He explained.
“I’ve gotten that impression off him.” You replied, but Kyle nodded.
“Yeah but for a stranger, it’s easy to spot that, to understand it. But… We’ve all served with him for years now and we know nothing of him.” He explained with a shrug and an awkward smile again.
As you heard him talk, you slurped your noodles as well, holding the bowl up to your mouth as you did so.
“Soap even gasped when he found out that Ghost had a Tinder account, and the way he was chatting when he went on a date with you, well…” He trailed off and took a bite of one of his eggs as well.
“I wouldn’t call it a date.” You replied as you set down your bowl and took a sip of your drink. Across from you, Gaz did the same, sipping from his Stella Artois glass.
“You met on a dating app, had drinks, went back to yours, spent the night together… That’s a date.” He retorted and you nod your head, conceding to his point.
“Fine… I guess…” You sighed. “But I still don’t see what the big deal is.” You added. “He seems… nice. A bit weird… But nice.” You explained. “He seems like he just… needs a break.” You added and half-shrugged.
Kyle’s head dipped a bit to the side and he regarded you with gentler, softer eyes, quietly contemplating what you said.
“You’re really nice.” He ended up saying after a moment then he pressed his lips together for a moment as he watched you eat.
“Fanks.” You mumbled halfway through chewing a piece of your pork slices.
“Simon was there, you know… When you went to meet Captain Price. Just to make sure you were, you know… Normal.” Gaz quipped, which caused your eyes to widen.
“He was?” You asked sharply, your voice rising an octave for a moment.
“Ye… He… He doesn’t trust easy.” He replied.
“I’ve noticed.” You added, still a bit put off by the news.
“Well, anyway…” He trailed off. “He uh… he came back to base after you and him left the pub and he told us you were nice, normal…” He explained. “And he said that the captain was a bit reticent to be there and you were both feeling awkward… And you so sincerely told him he could leave if he wanted to and that he didn’t need to force himself to be there.” Gaz explained.
Your eyes widened a bit and your face warmed up lightly as he revealed that he knew of how you had reassured John.
“So… I guess… I guess I see it now.” Kyle admitted. “You’re very… gentle.” He ended up after searching for the right word. “A right laugh, funny as fuck, very bratty… But… nice and kind.” He added. “It’s no wonder they both felt good with you, especially Ghost.”
“Well… thanks.” You said softly, smiling sheepishly, and he did the same as he resumed eating.
“Do you feel… good with me too?” You asked him with a cocked brow and pursed lips.
Nodding at you, Kyle smiled. “Yeah, I’d say I do.” He said as he slurped his noodles again.
You resumed eating as well and, sometimes, you’d glance at one another and smile sheepishly before looking away and focusing on your meals.
“So…” You said as you reached over and dipped a gyoza in the soy sauce. “Did you really fall out of a helicopter?” You asked, which caused his eyes to light up with amusement.
“I did.” He answered with a nod and a grin on his lips.
“How did that happen?” You cocked a brow.
-
Thirty minutes later, you and Gaz are walking side to side as you head back to work. He’s spent most of the time regaling you with stories about work (with the proper censorship of events, dates, places and people).
You barely got a word in and yet, somehow, you don’t mind. You’re surprisingly entertained by him, by the way his eyes light up when he speaks, the way his smile grows every time a story gets a bit more action-packed…
If you didn’t know by now that he’s a soldier (and an elite one, if his stories are to be believed), you’d have called him out by now by making it all up… But he also showed you a few of his scars to prove he wasn’t lying.
As you reach the front door of your workplace, he’s just finishing up his latest story, just in time. You still have a couple of minutes to burn so you linger with him, hands clasped in front of you, as he has his own on the front pocket of his blue hoodie.
“Thanks for this.” You told him with a smile, watching as his face morphed in confusion.
“Thanks for what?” He asked you with a cocked brow and a smile on his lips.
“Well… everything? Buying me lunch, telling me so many stories, walking me to work…” You listed and chuckled. “I haven’t gotten this type of… attention in a while.” You explained.
Kyle gives you a look of disbelief. “You’ve been going out with Ghost, what do you mean you don’t-” He started but you interrupted him with a sharp ‘That’s different!’.
“Simon is very nice and I enjoyed myself greatly with him but something tells me he wouldn’t exactly want to go out for ramen on my lunch break in broad daylight, without a mask.” You quipped playfully.
“Ah- yeah, I see your point.” Kyle joked a bit.
“And, besides… I got out of a… trainwreck of a relationship recently…” You explained as you shifted your weight around on the balls and heels of your feet.
“Is that why you were on Tinder?” He asked as he dipped his head to the side in understanding.
“Mhm.” You nodded and smiled softly. “Anyway…” You trailed off. “It’s nice to have someone make time to meet up with me during lunch break and… you know… Have a date!” You replied.
“Oh it’s a date, is it?” He asked you with a smirk on his lips and a wiggling of his eyebrows.
“Oh, fuck off…” You quipped and nudged him on the shoulder with your hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute…”
Kyle’s lips parted into a boyish grin as he looked at you. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, amused.
Rolling your eyes, you nudged him again and he simply laughed playfully in response.
Checking the time on your phone, you sighed. “I should go upstairs.” You told him and he nodded.
“Have a good rest of your day. And text me, yeah? I’d like to repeat this.” Kyle told you and you nodded too, smiling sheepishly.
“I plan on it.” You added and leaned up, kissing his cheek, just like you did with Simon a couple of weeks before.
Kyle smiled and chuckled softly when you pulled away. He leaned close and kissed your cheek in return, causing your cheeks to burn a bit.
You waved at him and rushed back inside your workplace. Standing outside in the pavement, Kyle watched you go through the windows, with a smile and returned the wave with a raising of his hand and a single little wave before tucking his hands back in his pockets and walking off again.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic#cod modern warfare#cod fanfic#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#text story#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader
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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me to
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.
“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.
“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.
“Why?”
“Why…. am I sorry?”
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.
When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”
“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”
“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.
“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.
“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.
“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”
At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.
“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.
“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.
“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.
“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.
“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.
“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”
“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.
“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”
“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—
“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.
“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.
“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.
Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.
“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS#WOMEN LOVERS#WARNING: YEARNING#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#percy jackson series#percy jackson#pjo#dior goodjohn#dior goodjohn x reader#clarisse la rue imagine#pjo x you#clarisse la rue x you
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can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol
I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.
Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?
But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:
Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.
A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.
There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.
It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.
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there can be no covenants between men and lions
ryomen sukuna x reader
summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit.
w/c: 3k
tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers.
a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one.
series masterlist // masterlist
you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.
his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.
"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.
despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.
"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.
"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.
his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."
you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."
the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.
he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.
his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.
"oh."
the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.
what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.
he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.
"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."
he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."
mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"
he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."
when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"
you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.
"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."
as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"
"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."
"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.
you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.
back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.
he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—
he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.
your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.
he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.
you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.
sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.
then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.
lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.
it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.
but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.
he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.
his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?
eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"
"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"
you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.
finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?
he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.
sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.
yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.
you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.
sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.
he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.
you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.
yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.
this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.
tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.
but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.
he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?
and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?
when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.
you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.
"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."
he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.
he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.
"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.
you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.
"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.
"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.
"enough."
he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.
so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.
but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.
"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.
an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?
he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"
that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.
the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.
that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.
it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.
sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.
"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.
how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.
you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.
"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.
"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."
it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."
he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.
"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."
your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.
"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."
his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.
"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.
"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."
"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.
you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."
"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."
you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."
his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.
it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.
it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.
ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.
as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.
"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.
"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.
his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."
he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"
he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"
"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."
you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."
#m!writes#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna imagines#sukuna angst#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna imagines#ryomen sukuna angst#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk angst
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PRIVATE LESSONS – Sanji x female reader
Summary: on what is supposed to be another of your private cooking lessons, you and Sanji get closer... in a very intimate way.
Pairing: Sanji x female reader.
Word count: 2k.
Warnings: pure fucking, dirty, obscene fingerfucking smut, some plot, heavy hand kink, eye contact, language (also reader thinks herself as a slut at some point), fingering, cum play(?), semi-public, praising, pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl...).
Notes: this is just full of smut so yeah. Idk, this is my realization that I am a Sanji whore. Enjoy you sinners. And I'm sorry for any errors as English is not my main language. (I'll keep apologizing for this lol).
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
Probably will make a part 2 to consumate this shit, but I can't promise I will...
GEN MASTERLIST!
Months ago, you started at the Baratie as a waitress but your biggest wish was cooking. And Sanji was there to help you with that. You had absolutely no idea how to start, lucky for you, the blonde chef of the restaurant was aware of your dreams. So you started lessons after your shift.
"Can't deny the wishes of a pretty thing like you," you remembered Sanji saying when you finally asked him to teach you. He winked and put a playful smirk on his lips.
Yes, Sanji was a flirt - but he was a flirt with everyone. So you never took personally his random comments and hits, until you started your cooking classes.
The Baratie was always closed and there was no one but Sanji and you in the kitchen. He had started with the basic stuff, like chopping vegetables and soft meat, and making easy entries and sidedishes.
There was a problem though. This was almost the fourth week you were receiving his lessons and you found out there was something distracting you a lot recently: his hands.
His beautiful, strong hands, that, in a delicate manner, would slice a fish and would convert it in the most delicious dish you ever tasted ever. You became so immersed in his hands doing little to nothing. Even if Sanji wasn't cooking, just fixing his hair or having a cigarrette, everything you could keep your focus on was his beautiful fingers, sometimes wearing pretty rings and jewels around them. And the way the veins on his big hands would appear... Gods, your mind started to wonder a lot of things and it was becoming difficult keeping your focus on the special salad you were preparing that night.
"You're doing great, love," Sanji whispered, staying right behind you and monitoring carefully your chopping like an inspector.
His sweet words were no help for you at all. With a deep breath, you finished with the last eggplant. Sanji immediately came closer and leaned behind your back, and you controled the loud gasp that was about to burst. You felt his strong body pressed against your own, and he suddenly grabbed your hand still holding the knife to start chopping a small piece of the eggplant you just finished. His arms were now sorrounding your figure as he guided softly on how you were supposed to cut it.
"Just make sure to cut them like this, see?"
All you could give was a nod. Fuck, you felt so embarrassed, hypnotized by his hands working on the must mundane activities in the whole world, grabbing firmly the knife between his fingers.
Those thick fingers you fantasized about late at night; not letting you pay attention to the important things Sanji would say to you about cooking. Those fingers you wished to have inside you right now, to lick them, to suck on them until they were completely dry... You rub your thighs together and try to keep your thoughts locked to continue with the lesson.
"Yeah, I see now. Thanks, Sanji," you were surprised you were actually able to talk.
You heard his chuckle behind you before shifting and come by your side, leaving you free of his grip and the warmth of his hands that you were already missing.
"Lets plate then."
Sanji guided you on how to place each ingredient on the bowl, making it harder for you to follow his pace. It took longer than you expected, but you were trying to keep your shit together; your skirt and shirt suddenly felt too tight on your figure and you tried to not rub your thighs, even if you wished for some friction right now.
Once the bowl was done, Sanji took the small plate with the sauce you prepared earlier and gave it a delicate taste, licking the spoon with his tongue.
Why did he look so hot just by doing anything? Was he aware of the effect he had in you lately? Was he teasing you? Or where you just hot and bothered already? No answer you had for any of those questions.
Sanji wrinkled his brows, savoring the sauce with such delicacy, and after a moment or so of thinking he looked at you.
"I think something is missing," he said.
"What? I put everything that was on the recipe for the sauce." In a swift move, you took the spoon from his hand and had a taste yourself. "Seems okay for me."
The chef tsked. "Darling, you need to taste it differently. Deeper, go further than usual."
Sanji dipped his forefinger on the sauce and brought it to your lips. With hesitation, you opened your mouth and licked the sauce from his finger, not only tasting the sauce but savouring the moment. Was he aware of how you looked at his hands? You were not going to question it. Not when you carefully wrapped your soft lips around him, closing your eyes slowly, arousal building up between your legs. His words were no help either, it was like if he was testing the waters and so were you.
You felt Sanji pulling out his finger from your mouth and you let out a soft moan. You wanted to snap yourself. He smirked, he obviously heard your pretty noise.
"Sorry..." you were ashamed but the burning desire was growing and winning over you. What a fucking slut, you thought to yourself. It didn't matter right now. You just had a taste of his fingers.
"So what'd you say?" Sanji interrupted the voice inside your head.
Your dark eyes looked intensely his charming blue ones. "I still think the taste is good."
Sanji leaned down, almost brushing your lips and looking like if he was forcing himself to not press his lips to yours right there and then. Until he did. He captured your lips in a heated and rough kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tasting the sauce and the sweetness of your plump lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other pulled you closer, forcing your back to press against the counter. Now, you were trapped between his body and the surface.
A moan escaped your throat and Sanji happily swallowed it on the heated make out session you shared. He lifted you up so you were sitting on the empty side of the counter, taking shallow breaths, as he stood between your parted legs, stroking the skin of your thighs without any rush.
"I've noticed you look at my hands so attentively," he mumbled, biting your lower lip softly. You gasped, but he continued. "Why's that?"
His question left you speechless for a moment. Did he really need to ask?
"Sanji, I already licked your finger..."
His palms traced their way under your skirt, and his fingers teased your inner thighs, finding the fabric covering your wet core.
"Well, darling, doesn't that mean we can go further? Deeper?"
"Go ahead then," you mumbled, full of lust. Your skin was aching already for him and this was all you needed to feel complete. Him.
With that, his fingers rubbed you softly over your panties, pressing on the wet patch you were already making. Sanji smirked and he leaned to pay attention to the delicate skin on your neck. His lips pressed soft kisses, leaving a trail of them, until he found the sweet spot that made you melt into his touch, nibbling and sliding his tongue against your neck until he met your collarbone.
"Sanji..." the soft whimper past your lips and you held your breath, eyes closed as he hiked up your uniform skirt and puts aside the panties covering your core from him.
His name falling off your lips made his cock inside his trousers twitch, restraining himself to not fuck you right there in the counter until the only thing that was on your mind was his name and only him. Right now, he decided he would take care of you first. As you deserved it.
"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.
His fingers found your pussy, spreading your folds softly, coating them with your already dripping juices. Sanji rubbed your clit and he teased your entrance, going at an agonizing rhythm. All you wanted was for him to fuck you with his fingers. Now. You started to grind your hips, needing some more friction, knowing he would get the hint of your despair.
"Please, Sanji," you whined.
Sanji chuckled, and you felt pathetic for begging. You could tell he was enjoying your squirm. His free hand cupped the nape of your neck forcing your dark eyes to look at his own directly.
"Look at me," Sanji ordered. "Do not dare to close your eyes, darling."
You bit your lip and nodded, gripping tightly the edge of the counter.
"Good girl," he whispered with a raspy voice, and with a lustful smile on his lips. "I want to see you come undone."
And with his statement, he eased one digit inside your velvety walls. You moaned louder this time.
"Fuck, you're so ready for me," Sanji growled, noticing how obvious the ache between your thighs was. "You're perfect, darling," he cooed against your lips. His praising caused your walls to clench around him, gaining another dark smile from the blonde man.
The thrusts of his finger started in a delicate pace. Instantly, your eyes clenched, breath hitching, as he filled you up. Sanji gradually increased his pace, curling his finger to reach your deepest spot, and you felt your juices coating your thighs with his moves.
"You look at me, don't forget," Sanji whispered, his other hand now cupping your cheek. You obeyed, opening your eyes for him.
A second finger made its way inside your cunt and he pumped them harder this time. Your legs were spreading wider, moaning against his lips, dying to kiss him one more time. But you tried your hardest to mantain the deep eye contact, realizing where you were right now. In the empty kitchen of the Baratie, with the blonde chef between your legs, fucking you with his pretty fingers. Those he protected and took care of so attentively.
And now, the only place Sanji wanted to have his fingers on was inside of you. You looked flushed, sweaty and simply gorgeous, cyring and whimpering. All for him. Your pussy was throbbing and you let a rather loud and erotic moan.
"Shit, I'm so close," you cried.
"Just come for me, beautiful..."
His lips catching your swollen ones in a heated kiss. He curled up his fingers, thumb rubbing your clit softly. Your hips trying to meet the thrusts of his hand desperately, your smooth walls clenching around his digits. Sanji realized he enjoyed the control and power he had over you as you reached your heavenly climax. He loved it more than he could ever think of.
Your body trembled, and finally, you felt sweet release hitting you, walls spasming in ecstasy around his fingers. Foreheads still touching, eyes locked as he watched you come undone. Exactly like he wanted it to be.
You moaned his name under your breath over and over, filled with pleassure. Sanji felt your thighs closing and your pussy contracting around his digits. He let you catch your breath for a moment, enjoying the heat of your body. For the first time, Sanji then pulled away his forehead, remaining still between your legs, and slowly removing his fingers from your throbbing cunt, eyes looking directly to your wetness.
Still covered with your juices, Sanji used both his hands to spread your folds obscenely to get a better look at your pussyhole. Fuck, you felt so exposed to him, but you couldn't care less. You had a mindblowing orgasm just moments ago.
"Fuck-" you cried.
"So beautiful," he praised. Again, you whimpered and your hips bucked a little.
Sanji pushed a finger slowly inside you, just to gather more of your sweetness, so he could finally have a taste. He licked both fingers he used on you before, humming like he had found the best meal in days.
"So how is it?" you finally asked, teasing him.
"Sweetheart, you're delicious."
You laughed softly, realising you totally forgot about the dish you were preparing that night. "Is this included on your private lessons, Sanji?"
"Only if you want," he leaned down to share a last kiss, this time more gentle than the others.
He already knew your answer.
#opla sanji x reader#opla sanji smut#opla sanji#opla sanji x female reader#op!la sanji x reader#op!la sanji x female reader#op!la sanji smut#one piece sanji live action#sanji x female reader#sanji x reader#sanji smut#one piece netflix#one piece sanji one shot#one piece live action fanfiction
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Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes
》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff
》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.
》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)
》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+
A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.
++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!
📍 BLOG NAVIGATION
✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—
He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.
Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.
Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.
It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?
Wrong.
Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.
He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.
"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.
"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."
You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.
Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.
He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.
And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.
So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.
"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"
It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.
But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.
Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.
"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.
Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.
"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"
Bucky shook his head. "Not really."
Your bottom lip went.
He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.
"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.
He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.
Today wasn't an exception.
Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.
But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.
"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."
"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.
"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."
"No, I know," you sniffled.
"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"
You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,
"I don't want to eat alone."
Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.
"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."
•••
A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.
Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.
He couldn't contain his chuckle.
You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"
"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.
"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.
Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.
"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.
"Oh."
"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.
"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."
You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"
"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.
Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.
"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."
Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.
God you were so fucking cute.
"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."
You cried even harder.
Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.
"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."
He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"
"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."
Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.
"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.
He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.
"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."
It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.
But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.
What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?
"How about I ask them to change it?"
Again, wrong thing to say.
He needed to get better at this.
"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"
You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.
He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.
"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.
You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.
"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.
"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."
You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.
"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."
"Shut up, Barnes."
•••
You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.
But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.
It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.
Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.
Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.
Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.
Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.
Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"
"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.
Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.
"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."
"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."
"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."
That made you cry even harder.
"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."
Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.
How could someone be so selfless and sweet?
"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."
"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."
"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."
"Really?" you sniffled.
"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."
That earned him a small laugh.
"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.
"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."
You scrunched up your nose adorably.
"That was so cheesy."
"But it's true, though."
You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.
"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."
"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."
You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.
He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.
When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.
That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.
Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.
His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.
A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—
Yeah.
Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.
✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.
↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!
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#bhh#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes reader insert#sebastian stan#my writing
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COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial
...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.
First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:
The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.
Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:
Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.
First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:
Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.
The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)
Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:
The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:
Punch the holes shown below:
I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.
I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:
(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)
Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:
Punch stitching holes:
Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):
Now you can punch these holes:
(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)
Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:
A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.
What they look like when you're finished sewing:
Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:
I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.
MANY BAGS.
For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:
But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:
Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁
Happy Bagging!
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Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky x Nanny!Reader
Warnings: None.
Author's Note: I'm honestly still in my cowboy era and have also been wanting to try my hand at making a series so I bring you this little piece! I have it more less planned and hope you all will stick around and enjoy this ride with me! Happy Readings!
The iron gate is warm under his touch, the rising sun low enough in the sky that the iron railing has now begun to cool. He watches his dark-haired boy run around the ‘arena’; lasso gripped tightly in his small hands as he gives the calf chase.
Bucky chuckles smile pulling at his lips as he calls out to his son, “champ you got to get that rope off the ground if you want to catch ‘im”. The boy all but stops in his track, feet throwin up dirt chocolate eyes locking on his, “the ropes to long daddy, I’m trying!” he pouts.
Clambering off the rails his feet hit the dirt as he makes his way into the gated ‘arena’ closing the distance between him and his son. He gets down to eye level, pout still adorning his boy’s lips, “you, Uncle Steve, and Sam make this look so easy, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong, I'm doing exactly how I see you do it.”
“Not doing anything wrong champ, c’mere,” he says pulling his son close. “Put your hand here, and wrap this,” he says adjusting his sons' hands, “right here, make sure it’s tight now, don’t want to lose your grip on it and risk that calf getting away from you now.”
Grant follows his father’s directions, “alright, now that we got the rope secured let's get it above our heads.” He helps his son get the rope going, “see, you’re getting it, now, I want you to throw it right at that spot over there imagine the calf's just sitting, focus now,” He advises finger pointed to a spot just feet ahead. Bucky watches his son, tongue peeked out of his lips as he concentrates, rope still swinging. It falls quiet for a moment, then the soft thud of rope hitting dirt meets their ears. Grants grin is wide as he snaps his head back to look at his dad, “I did it daddy! I did it!” He mirrors his son’s smile pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug, lips finding the side of his chocolate locks, “knew you could bud, knew you could.”
“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Tasha about it!” the boy’s excitement grows, “well how about we get a few more rounds of practice in, we still got some time before she gets here.”
They’re outside in the arena practicing till the sun begins to dip into the west horizon making way for the moon and stars that have begun to decorate the still early night sky. Bucky leads him and his son from the arena, leaving the calf with his mom in the barn before they make their way to the house. Steve’s truck is parked out front, him and Natasha sitting on the porch waiting.
Grant spots his aunt and uncle first, excitement hardly contained as he drops his dad’s hand bolting to the front porch, his aunt’s name on his lips. Bucky stops by the front of Steve’s truck watching his son, he’s in Natasha’s arms, raving about his day to them, Steve and Natasha hearing him with wonder in their eyes.
“You’re going to be running circles around the arena in no time bud, put all of us to shame, especially your dad” Steve teases meeting his eyes.
Bucky laughs, “The day he puts me to shame in the arena will be the greatest day of my life, means I taught him well.’
“While we can’t wait for the day he puts ALL OF YOU to shame, I’d like to enjoy my little man while I can, right champ?” Natasha grins hoisting the boy higher on her hip. Grant is taken with his aunt hands curling around her neck as he squeezes her there cheeks mushing together.
There’s an ache in Bucky’s chest as he watches the scene before him, like the many restless nights he has he can’t help but to think in this moment what he could have done differently, what he could have said to make her stay. He’s her carbon copy, he hates it. She doesn’t deserve to have any piece of him, not after she just up and left without so much as a word. Bucky still recalls the urgent call from the daycare asking if anyone would be coming for Grant. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her since that day, not that he’s tried much since Grant’s 3rd birthday.
“Buck - hey pal everything good, you sure you still wanna meet Sam at thirsty barrel?”
The brunette is pulled from his reverie, eyes falling on his best friend who has since approached him, he shakes his head, “yeah - yeah pal sorry just thinking.” He looks over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha and Grant waving at him, he waves back, “have fun you guys, me and little man are gonna have some fun of our own, isn’t that right!”
“Make sure he’s in bed by 9, 10 the latest.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever dad, get out of here!” Natasha replies waving them off.
Steve and Bucky chuckle making sure Natasha and Grant get inside the house before they clamber into Steve’s truck.
“You sure you feeling up for tonight?” Steve questions him as he turns the key in the ignition. Bucky watches the house, getting a glimpse of Grant through the window, “I’m sure, my thoughts just got the best of me but I'll be fine.” Steve puts the truck into drive, “she’s not worth it Buck, the day she decided to leave, cut all contact with you, with grant that’s the day she stopped being of any importance.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs eyes drifting out the window as Steve backs out of the ranch, “it’s just I wonder if I had done things differently if she would still be here.”
“You gave her your all Buck; I don’t think there’s anything more you could have given her to make her stay.”
And though Bucky knows Steve is right, his words don’t sting any less.
The thirsty barrel was in full swing, the bar packed to the brim. Bucky, Steve and Sam had managed to snag the last remaining booth, drinks being run to their table as they talked business.
“So you find anyone to watch little man when we hit the road at the end of the month?” Sam questioned over his drink.
Bucky sighed, he had forgotten, he had been so busy with Grant, with the ranch that he had forgot to look into a caretaker for his son. Another thing he would have to add to his to do list for tomorrow. He shakes his head taking a sip of his beer, “not yet, been looking around but I haven't settled on anyone yet.”
Sam tsks, “We have two weeks before we’re needing to head out on the road Buck, and little man can’t come with us because of school.” Bucky places his drink down running a hand over his bearded scruff, “you don’t think I know that Sam, I'm trying, just haven’t had luck, can’t just trust anyone with him either, I need to know he’s going to be safe, cared for.”
“I can ask Natasha to skip this trip Buck, I’m sure it won’t be a problem, she loves spending time with grant.”
Bucky shakes his head at Steve, “absolutely not pal, I know how much Natasha is looking forward to seeing you ride, I can’t ask that of you or her – I'll find someone – I will.”
A damper has been placed on Bucky’s mood despite the change in subject, and he’s quiet for most of the night tuning in here and there when Steve or Sam directs something at him. He’s there, but not really, his mind drifting to the thought of his son. If Sam or Steve notice his absence, they don’t mention it, nor do they push him to converse, they know how hard it's been for him since she left, and they try to do all they can to help him.
They’re not at the bar long, Sam being the first one to throw in the towel, Steve seconding the notion, Bucky doesn’t argue as they pay the tab, each leaving a tip for their waitress. The trio say their goodbyes outside of the bar, Sam promising to stop by the ranch tomorrow to see grant, get some riding time in with the boy, Steve jumps in to join as well. “Can use all the practice, only got two weeks left,” he chuckles.
Bucky and Steve see Sam off before they get inside the truck, it's quiet most of the ride home, Bucky appreciates Steve for giving him this. It’s only until they’re pulling into the ranch 30 minutes later that he does decide to speak up.
“I’ll help you find someone for Grant,” he says putting the truck in park, eyes meeting his friends, “make sure that it’s someone we can trust, the closest to family that we can get.”
Bucky nods, the fear of that not being possible choking him, Steve reaches a hand out laying it on his shoulder, squeezing, “I promise pal, we’ll find you someone, we’ve got two weeks.”
Two weeks.
Two weeks.
Bucky’s nodding again, “I appreciate you pal, listen I'll go get Natasha for you, know you two have quite the drive, don’t want it getting late for you.”
Steve gives him his thanks watching him get off the truck, make his way up the steps and to the front door. Bucky disappears inside, returning a few minutes later with Natasha. Steve watches the two exchange a few words before she’s pulling Bucky into a tight embrace more words shared. The two pull away and Bucky watches her as she gets into the truck safely.
They all wave one final time at each other before Bucky heads back inside, the lights of his home flickering off one at a time. Steve waits till the last light has been turned off before he’s putting the truck back in drive, making his way out of the ranch.
“How was he?” Natasha questions finding Steve’s hand.
“He’s not doing good,” Steve answers, “he’s worried about leaving Grant at the end of the month.”
“I can stay, you know I don’t mind, I can watch you ride anytime.”
Steve looks over to her, “he already said no, you know he isn't going to go back on his word,” his eyes flick back to the road, “we just need to find someone he can trust; we need family.”
It goes quiet in the cab of the truck for a moment, Natasha speaks up a few minutes later, “I might have someone, she’s a family friend, I could have her come meet us at the ranch tomorrow.” Steve gives her a questioning look, the redhead rolls her eyes, “Bucky doesn’t keep anything from me where Grant is involved, it’ll be perfect everyone can meet her, see how she fits in.”
Steve agrees, and he can’t help but hope this works out, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting anymore, and he hoped with help that he might be the Bucky he was before her.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#cowboy!bucky#cowboy!au#singledad!bucky#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au
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Exile.
a/n I cried so hard I had to write something so here we are. So,I guess I'm inviting you to come cry with me. 🫧
warning: just sadness
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The heaviest thing that weighed on Azriel's chest was that he couldn't find a turning point that changed it all. A breaking point that shattered a perfect picture. That started to pull apart the only thing he thought was unbreakable in this world.
You had been his everything ever since Rhys's mother had taken both Azriel and Cassian under her wing. He still remembered you peeking from behind your mother's dress. Big, purple eyes staring at him. As big and as scared as his. As skittish and nervous as him. You two had observed each other for weeks. Running away the moment your eyes met. Where Cassian and Rhys had been loud and obnoxious. You and Azriel had always been quiet and observant.
Then one evening, you showed up at Azriel's favorite corner of the cabin. One that he had claimed as his. Often sitting there all alone in the shadows. Legs up to his chest as he watched everyone else. And no one ever invaded that space. Until that evening, when you had rounded the corner with a bowl of freshly baked cookies and a glass of milk, you splashed some of it as you walked. Your tongue slightly poked out as you concentrated on your task. Then that bowl was on the floor, right in front of Azriel. Your chest heaved as you took short, labored breaths. For a moment, Azriel had been too stunned to even move because no one had ever brought him anything. If people came to him, it was to hurt him, not to be kind.
Like a beaten puppy, he slowly crawled out of the dark corner. His eyes never left you as you two stared each other down. His scared fingers reached for the cookies. The warmth of them settled into his palm. He felt his heart hammering against his ribcage, yet he still extended his left hand to you. Offering you one of the cookies to share. Your shaky finger followed Azriel's movements until you both stood there on the dim back side of the cabin.
Loving you after that came easy. When his mind spiraled, all Azriel needed was to see you. When he felt like he couldn't breathe, all he needed was to look at your purple eyes, which never failed to remind him of the pure irises that bloomed in late spring. He saw you everywhere and in everything. And you were his in so many ways. You had searched and put together every single broken piece of his soul. Rebuilding him into a man with your slow and gentle love.
The night when the carriage with you and your mother was attacked, Azriel thought that he was going to lay down and die alongside you. Rhys didn't ask for Azriel to come. But he didn't have to. The spymaster was driven by the force of need and fear that ran through him like venom. No matter how many interrogations and battles he had been in after that, nothing compared to the vicious slaughter he unleashed that night alongside Rhys and his father. Back then, it had been the first time Azriel had killed. But it didn't weigh on him like he thought it would. All he wanted was to bring them back so he could slaughter them once again.
You. It was you and nothing else for Azriel after that. No more whispers of secrets. No more sneaking around. No more late-night snacks on the rooftop, so no one would hear you. Azriel wanted to love you loudly. To know that there wasn't a part of you that didn't belong to him. That wasn't his. And as he spun you around in your white dress, with irises in your hair, as your laughter echoed and filled his chest, he was sure that he had found his forever.
But now here he was. On the same old balcony. On the longest night of the year, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hand. Watching as Lucien of all people spun you around. Pulling a laugh after a laugh from you. A sound Azriel hasn't heard for months. And that sound had always been his to claim; now all he got were scowls and angry head shakes.
"If looks could kill, brother..." Cassian tried to bump Azriel's shoulder gently, but the spymaster's eyes didn't leave you even for a second. "It's good to see her like that," Cassian sighed, throwing another dagger straight into Azriel's heart because the whole family had been aware that something wasn't right. After almost four hundred years together, you two had come crashing down the rocky shore. "You'll figure it out, Az. Don't beat yourself...", Cassian had started, but Azriel wasn't going to sit here like a fool. So, with a harsh slam of his glass, he pushed past Cassian without a second glance.
You're not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
I think I've seen this film before...
Oh, how easy it had been to love him. To do it all for him. You had built your world around his broken heart. Carefully helping him stand on his shaky feet. It was the hidden parts of Azriel that you loved the most. Azriel, who put notes in the books you were reading, so that at a certain point, with you flipping through it, you would come across a folded piece of paper that read, "Never loved anyone as much as I love you. Your smile alone leaves me defenseless, my little terror."
You had kept them all. You still had them in a wooden box at the bottom of the closet. Every letter that Azriel had even written. Every note. Every dried flower. You bathed in that soft side of him that was only for you. With him rushing home to you so you could eat your dinner together and talk. Talk for hours until a comfortable silence would fall, and you two would find yourself in bed together, cuddling against one another as you read books in silence. Or Azriel read parts of his book to you.
A lifetime with him seemed too short at one point. Until it didn't. You had an inkling that something was changing the moment your brother brought Feyre home. That same night, you had woken up, drenched in sweat. Gasping like a fish frown on shore, with Azriel grasping at your hands. "It's fading," you breathed out, clawing at your chest till you drew blood with your nails. "My love," Azriel breathed, pulling your trembling body closer, "Breath with me." But all you did was shake your head and say, "It's flickering away." You grasped at him for dear life back then. And maybe you should have held on tighter. Maybe you should have sunk your nails into him. But your mother had raised you differently, and you weren't going to settle for scraps.
You'd like to believe that you knew that she was going to take Azriel away before even they did. Because Azriel had always been a savior. A fixer. An answer to the cries of the wrong soul, and oh, did she cry... Helpless little lamb in disguise. So when Azriel started smelling of her, you didn't even hear your heartbreak. You had tried bringing it up. Tried to get him to see, but the prettiest of flowers were often poisonous.
"All I'm asking is for an evening with my mate, with my husband." Your voice bounced off the walls as yet another fight rippled through the house that always felt cold now. "We had dinner last week," Azriel said blandly, buttoning up one of your favorite shirts. "And to think we had date nights every other day," you chuckled bitterly. "We are not kids anymore, Y/N," Azriel bit back, making you glare at him even more. "Oh, so love is now for children. Good to know that you had put an expiration date on this, Azriel", you said, tossing the kitchen towel you were holding to the side, "It would have been nice if you had informed me about it."
"See, this is why I hate being here." His voice roared back, making you take a step back. You fought many times. But you were always the firecracker. The terror. Azriel's composure never let him cross a line. But this. "You and your nagging drilling," he tapped against his temple angrily. "Not everything is about you. For once, give some thought to other people's needs."You had only blinked at him then. Watched him slowly dress up before he walked out of the door with a loud bang.
"A dance?", you blinked, nearly knocking your glass over as you flinched, but the person in front of you was quick to catch the delicate glass. "Apologies; I had no intention to startle you so much; I didn't think you were that deep in your thoughts." A familiar gaze warmed your soul. "Drop the formalities, Lucien," you chuckled softly. "I will if you will come to dance with me; it's a crime to sit through Starfall," Lucien once again extended his hand to you, and with a light shake of your head, you let him pull you up.
The music was rather lively, one you would come across at the city fair during a festival. But Rhys had always liked his tunes wild when he was happy. And your brother was more than happy. "Eris is convinced that I have two left feet," Lucien muttered as his arm wrapped around your waist, "So if this ends in distress, please keep my shame with you." His words made the corners of your lips tug upward as you chuckled lightly. "I would never cause you such disgrace, emissary," Lucien simply smiled at you before twirling you around.
At first, it was a bitter dig to seek out Lucien. A venomous desire to sting Azriel with his poison. You had come back so proud that night, knowing that after a day of horse reading with Lucien, his smell would have been all over you. And it was. And Azriel had stalled the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes grew dark before he angrily undid his cloak, tossing it to the side.
"What was Lucien doing here?", his voice was low and bitter, but all it did was make you smile. "Who said he was here?", you muttered, continuing to flip through your book. You didn't need to see him to know that he was scowling at you. "Why is his scent all over you, Y/N?" You knew now that it was a desperate attempt to grasp the last bits of his love and attention for you and what you were doing was a pathetic desire to catch one more glimpse of his care. "I took your advice. Listened to others' needs", you said with a smirk. Azriel's hands were on you in an instant. Grasping your forearms as he pulled you up, your book clattered to the floor. "What fucking games are you playing?", Azriel said through gritted teeth as you pushed back against his chest, only to make his grip tighter. "You hypocritical bastard. So you can whore yourself out, and I'm just supposed to watch you!" You barked out, the magic you shared with your brother sizzling beneath your skin, roaring to explode around you if needed. "I'm helping her get settled," Azriel growled, letting go of your arms once the darkness around you two grew thicker. "On your dick is where you're settling her," you snarled. You wanted. Waited. For him to deny it. To explode with shouts about your accusations. But he simply shook his head before winnowing away. Oh, how you had ragged that night. Smashing every vase. Every frame that you could reach. Cursing him in all the languages you knew before collapsing to your knees in soul-ranching sobs.
"I've lost you once more," Lucien's soft voice brought you back. You had lost track of the time you two had been swaying. "I'm starting to believe that I'm an awful company," he chuckled under his breath. "No, no, Lucien, you couldn't be further away from that," you reassured him, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder. "Does this have something to do with your husband plotting my death the whole night?", your head instantly turned to Azriel. As if in second nature. You didn't even need to think about it. You always found him in the crowd. And sure enough, his deathly glare was pinned on you two.
It twisted your guts because there had been a time when that look would have sent you to your knees. To know that he was ready to fight for you. Ready to tear down cities. To get his knuckles bloody for you. Now it just left a bitter taste in your mouth. And it felt like a mockery at best. He had lost his claim to you months ago. "I'm sorry," you muttered, ready to apologize on Azriel's behalf, but suddenly your voice died down. Because all of these weeks it had been you, patching up that broken image of you two. Glossing over the flaws so that your family will not see anything. So that no one would need to worry. So that no one would see just how broken you had been.
A loud bang of glass hitting the table was the last straw for you. You flinched as your eyes shut. Angry tears fell on Lucien's deep green tunic. But you refused to let anyone else see you like this. "Y/n," Lucien muttered, "If this is because of my doing," but you quickly shook your head. Pleading eyes looked up at him, and for the first time, the shock on Lucien's face was enough to make a quiet sob escape past your lips. As the mask you had been wearing for weeks finally slipped. "Please," you breathed, "Help me; I can't do this anymore." Lucien's hand quickly cupped the back of your head as he pressed your trembling frame closer to his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly beneath your ear. "I've got you. It'll be okay", he muttered quietly, looking around for anyone who had spotted the scene that had unfolded. "Come on," Lucien muttered after a moment, "Give me your hand."
It was way past the end of Starfall when Azriel walked through the front door. He was exhausted. That type of exhaustioned that seeped into your bones. That made your body ache. That made that permanent feeling of coldness linger deep within. One you couldn't chase away, no matter what. Undoing a couple of the buttons on his black shirt, Azriel stepped deeper into the house. Into a too quiet of a house.
"Y/n," Azriel's voice echoed through the living room. He knew it was way too late to be shouting like that, but this unsettling dread pulled at his chest. "Y/n," he called out once more, hoping to hear you angrily striding to yell back at him, but he heard nothing. Not a single rustle of the sheets. Not the sound of your feet tapping against the wooden floor.
Azriel was about to angrily march up the stairs himself. To beg for you to scream at him if he had to because this silence that he sat in for hours in the house of wind had him running in loopholes that were near to suffering him. But his eyes fell on something glistening on the living room table. The only thing still shining in this dim place. The spymaster took a couple of quick steps toward it. A sick and sour feeling spread through his stomach. Almost sending him backward. There was no way. There absolutely could not be a way. Azriel's hand reached for a light blue diamond ring that had been a part of his heart for so long. But there was no way because you had it on your finger tonight. He had seen it tonight. And if you weren't here, and if the ring was. Azriel swallowed thickly, cold sweat coating his hands and face. You wouldn't have just taken it off here and forgotten it, unless...
I'm not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
I think I've seen this film before
So I'm leaving out the side door...
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#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel acotar x reader#azriel acotar imagine#azriel imagine#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x oc#lucien imagine#lucien vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra imagine#lucien vanserra
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Domestic
Sam Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties
Words: 1450
Warnings: none, very fluffy
Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it
A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.
Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.
Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.
Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.
But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.
When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.
"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"
Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.
After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"
He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.
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The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-
He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.
Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.
When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.
"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.
(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.
"You did all this for me?!"
It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.
When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.
Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.
(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.
Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness
(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.
"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".
Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".
Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-
Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.
#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester x you
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Mk1 intros with exotic dancer!reader
While reader has no bodily description, the vibe I'm going for is
Please enjoy these self indulgent intros! I have put more details about the reader insert under the intros but see how much you can piece together from the dialogue 😂 Also black text is the reader
Johnny
* "How much for a dance, beautiful?" "For you and Kenshi? Always on the house..."
* "Think about it, gorgeous! You and I? On the red carpet?! IN THAT RED OUTFIT OF YOURS!!" "I'm not sure I'd enjoy the public scrutiny..."
* "You are an entertainer like me in Earthrealm?" "An entertainer of sorts... remind me to show you Ninja Mine when we get back home!"
* "Many of your earthrealm friends seemed confused that I am bound to both you and Kenshi?" "Yeah... explaining polyrelationships on earth is a bit harder than Outworld..."
Kenshi
* "It pains me terribly to know that you can't see me dance anymore..." "I can still see you in a sense. Besides love, I can feel your dancing much more acutely now."
* "How many lucky men have seen the red outfit?" "Just you and Johnny..."
* "We have already been threatened by the Empress and Princesses to not hurt you love..." "The bite marks you both left probably didn't help your case!"
* "Does everyone in Outworld know about your relationship with me and Johnny?" "Unfortunately, court gossip spreads fast, more so regarding me or Mileena..."
Sindel
* "Remember my dear, there will always be a place at court for you, should you want it." "Thank you Aunt Sindel!"
* "All those times you took the blame for Mileena, I did know about it - thank you." "It helped Mileena's reputation in court to not always the troublemaker, it was necessary."
* "Please do not blame Mileena so much for that one night: Tarkat is very easy to contract." "And yet dear, you lived your entire life on the streets and never contracted it?"
Mileena
* "Based on the noises I heard from your bedchamber last night, I assume the earthrealmers are good at pleasuring?" "Mil, pleasure doesn't even BEGIN to describe the feeling..."
* "Do you remember that celebration by the sea front when you thr-" "SHUSH - Mother does not know about that night..."
* "How can you forgive me for blinding your lover?! I wouldn't blame you for hating me-" "You didn't have control! Kenshi knows that and I do too. Besides, how can you forgive me for letting you contract Tarkat?"
Kitana
* "A little birdie told me that Raiden likes you..." "I believe that may have been exaggerated..."
* "Do you promise you will come back to visit?" "Of course Kit, I'll be back before you know it!"
* "Li Mei still does not approve of your choices-" "Believe me, that will not change any time soon."
Li Mei
* "I am only looking out for the Princesses' well-being!" "By isolating them from their only friend outside the palace?"
* "With your talent, you could have been a better umgadi than Tanya and yet you choose to be an entertainer?!" "I choose to live and enjoy life: not just survive it!"
* "Despite what you believe, I am proud of your skill-" "Then maybe show it once in a while!"
Tanya
* "Does anyone know about our training?" "No, and I'd prefer it to stay that way."
* "Look after Mileena AND Kitana while I am gone - they are like sisters to me." "Of course - it is my honour and duty"
* "Thank you for supporting me and Mileena." "I was allowed to be with who I love; Mileena deserves the same."
Raiden
* "Do I make you uncomfortable Raiden?" "Uh... uncomfortable is not the word I would use..."
* "I can put in a good word to Kitana for you~" "Thank you - that is very kind!"
* "Did Johnny explain the relationship to you?" "I... understand the basic principle..."
Kung Lao
* "What does Johnny have that I don't?!" "Better table manners for one."
* "How much for a dance?" "I doubt you could afford it!"
* "Is it true you were engaged to Reiko?!" "He and I grew up together, nothing more."
Bihan
* "I will not associate with an outworld whore!" "You do understand that I am a dancer and not a prostitute? Right?"
* "I will not be bewitched Sorceress!" "So you DO find me attractive!"
* "I heard about the offer you made to Kuai Liang..." "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?"
Kuai Liang
* "I am here to offer you my services... in ANY capacity... or position... you wish..." "Are you still speaking of kombat?"
* "I hear you have a red outfit-" "Unfortunately handsome, that is just for Johnny and Kenshi."
* "Kombatant or dancer, if I wanted your services, how much-" "For you? On the house..."
Tomas
* "Did you ever feel that you did not belong when you lived with the princesses?" "I was fortunate enough to have been friends with both Mileena and Kitana before Aunt Sindel took me in."
* "If it puts you at ease, Madam Bo told me of Raiden's how-you-say 'crush' as well, not just yours..." "I can't believe she told you!"
* "Kenshi? I am confused, Johnny said-" "This really is a bizarre concept to earthrealmers, isn't it?"
Ashrah
* "I heard what your Kriss said about Mileena and Kitana - what does it say about me?" "It says that you are a better person than you let on and that you keep your kindness guarded?"
* "You know, I could show you a few moves to impress Syzoth?..." "Oh... thank you?"
* "Perhaps you could do me a favour and not tell anyone about the having-a-good-heart revelation from your sword - I have a reputation to keep up." "If that is what you wish."
Syzoth
* "Ashrah is a lucky girl... that being said, my offer for a dance is still on the table..." "Oh... umm I appreciate the offer?"
* "Ashrah says you are a better person than most people think." "I TOLD HER TO KEEP THAT A SECRET!"
* "If it is any consolation, the people of Outworld considered me a freak as well." "It is comforting to know that someone so beautiful has shared my struggles."
General Shao
* "I heard about your relationship with the earthrealmers!" "UGH who told you?!"
* "You only survived through Royal nepotism!" "Are you still upset about me defeating you at the banquet?!
* "Your attractiveness is ruined by your demeanour and personality." "Is this the great general finally admitting his attraction towards me?"
Reiko
* "I heard the rumours, your relationship with the earthrealmers-" "Is none of your concern!"
* "Had you not left the palace, we would have been engaged!" "There are plenty of reasons we would NOT have been engaged, Reiko."
* "You were practically handed a position at court?!" "I chose my freedom Reiko - I did not want to spend the rest of my life as Li Mei's shadow the way you are with the general!"
Shang Tsung
* "I want a dance - name your price..." "Easy - YOUR HEAD!"
* "I hear you do more than dance for the earthrealmers..." "DOES EVERYONE KNOW ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP?"
* "Not so innocent, are you?" "Like you have any right to judge me!"
For this backstory description to make sense age wise, I'm going to use human years on the scale that Mileena and Kitana are in their 20s with the reader being the same age as Mileena.
Backstory: reader is an orphan who grew up with Reiko - the two were just your average street urchins. At around age 7 when they were stealing from the market, reader saw two girls who were very lost and distraught. They asked her if she could show them the way back to the palace. Assuming they were joking, she ignored the request but asked them to hang out with her until their parents arrived. So the three girls and Reiko spent the rest of the day having fun. The next day, Li Mei found the four children and brought them back to the palace saying to Sindel that the reader and Reiko should receive punishment. However, Mileena and Kitana both vouched for them and their abilities in kombat. Shao, upon hearing this, decided to take Reiko under his wing. Meanwhile, Sindel was overjoyed to see that Mileena and Kitana made their first and only friend outside of the palace and decided to take reader in to be trained as an umgadi. So for the next few years, Li Mei trained reader in kombat and the ways of palace life but this did not stop reader and Mileena to sneak out of the palace at any given chance. By the time reader was 16, it was time for her to take the umgadi vows but reader shocked everyone by saying she wants to be a street performer instead of an umgadi. Sindel agreed with the condition that whenever reader is in Sun Do, she will stay at the palace with them. So the reader split her time between staying in Sun Do and travelling.
In terms of trying to match this up with MK1, following Reiko's defeat, Sindel is ready to yell at Li Mei for failing to secure the entertainment when Reader walks through the door offering to do so. The royal family immediately go to hug her leaving the earthrealmer gang confused. Liu Kang then explains the story to Raiden, Kung Lao and a smitten Johnny and Kenshi. The banquet takes place with the reader as the entertainer. When Raiden's toast is interrupted by Shao, reader tells him to back down with a fight ensuing with reader as the victor. She ends up becoming very fond of the earthrealmers and decides to spend time with them. The game then unfolds as usual and after the festival when the earthrealm players return, reader goes with them alongside Ashrah and Syzoth. By the end of the game, reader returns to earth with Johnny and Kenshi with the promise to return Outworld soon. (Also let's say everyone survives in this scenario because I love writing intros for Sindel).
@redlotus98 maybe it's time to make an MK branch of the red house universe...👀
Let me know if you want to see intros for characters talking about the reader
#mortal kombat#mk1 x reader#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#kenshi takahashi#kenshi takahashi x reader#sindel#mileena#kitana#li mei#tanya#raiden#kung lao#bi han#Kuai Liang#Tomas#tomas vrbada#ashrah#syzoth#general shao#reiko#shang tsung#mortal kombat x reader#mk1#mk1 2023#mk1 spoilers#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat 1 2023#mortal kombat intros#mk 1
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