#cause like. it just gives off a warmer look to my drawings if that makes sense ?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunseed-leaf · 13 days

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art dump timeee

lots of pokemon stuff i hope you like it :) this is a looooooooooong post

Originally these were just design mashups, at least, that was the plan for my "redesigns"... but it really made me realize how little they change Red throughout the generations. hence why he looks VERY similar to his canon design, i just added some things i guess. for Blue i could go absolutely ham with things i wanted in his design since there's so much to choose from. the fang idea comes from my friend. also, these are pretty much used for an AU based off of the RG project romhack by @shima-draws (i hope tagging is okay aaa) bc i played it with my friend and we really liked it and it converted him into a pokemon fan and namelessshipper :) In the end we made our own AU based off of it because other characters got thrown into it. we're continuing the timeline in soul silver :p

Here's a design for Leaf, she's Red's sister in my headcanon, i again went for the design mashup thing so that's why she looks like a mashup of Green and Leaf. i don't have much to say here....

Then there's some designs i can't show but it's for the reason that they are just human + trainer versions of sonic exes (not joking, i wish i was. my friend dragged them into our mini-roleplays, only two and they were Red's traveling companions and later Kris's too.)

Then here's a redesign inspired by other Daisy designs. dunno why but i just wanted her to be pink....

Eepy...

even more eepies....

then i made some silly redesigns/design mashups for Ash and Gary

And drew Red and Blue in alola. married dudes -w- Just in general my headcanon is that Red collects keychains, he probably has boxes worth of keychains and puts different ones on his bag every day, he even did this as a child he just didn't stop even into adulthood. Still a kid at heart with his silly keychains more headcanon rambles: Blue hates the cold but loves the warmth and Red loves the cold and hates the warmth. please put him into a freezer he can't handle the heat of alola- also yeah i know i messed up the number on Red's shirt, i learned how to draw 96 after this, i promise

And now we get to Pokemon Soul Crystal,,, which is just pokemon soul silver but with a patch that makes Lyra into Kris lol

Here she is!! i tried incorporating some bits from Lyra and her comfy outfit is based off of Gold i swear i love Kris's design in canon, the hair is a lil funky tho so i made the pigtails a bit shorter and poofier

then we got Silver here... again not much change, i love his design, i just wanted to add some moon details bc why not

I'll batch these together! here's some redesigns for the OG trio for Soul Crystal

Blue is supposed to look like he's been crying (sorry Blue :C) Red just makes me think of pokepastas im sorry, once he gets off mt. silver he'll get a haircut. Leaf is just. i dunno, i don't really know how to characterize her... she cares a lot about people but she's kinda bitchy about it. tough love i guess.. I think after soul crystal is over i'll get working on an continuation of that that isn't tied to a game where she gets more of an important role so i can work on her character. Blue is wearing lots of reds/warmer tones cause why not and Red is supposed to wear lots of blues/colder tones to give a little bit of a connection i guess.

Now, here's the final drawing before i show shitpost stuff, this was drawn with a drawing tablet rather than a mouse like usual

lines are a little funky but i like how this looks, i just need a bit more practice, i'm rusty on drawing with a pen

and now, shitpost:

i love Cinder the Typhlosion,,,, he's so cute

i know this is at the top of the post but i wanna put this here again and credit the idea for this: here.

that's all, goob bye i'll go back into hibernation

#pokemon #blue oak #leaf pokemon #red pokemon #redesigns #namelessshipping #daisy oak #ash ketchum #gary oak #silver pokemon #kris pokemon #trace pokemon

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 11 months

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hi i am re-entering into my outsiders era a bit so i have a lil request - the gang being friends w an art kid? like drawing and painting and sculpting and stuff

The boys with an art kid reader

A/N: i know the second req said hcs but i really wanted to write a little piece for this! also i’m in that mid-year phase where i want it to be christmas already so this is set at christmas. Y/N and Two-Bit are a bit of a thing cause i love two bit and i wanna write cute things with him so shush

Tags: fluff

Warnings: none!

It was Christmas eve at the Curtis house, the gang had a tradition of doing their gift-giving then rather than Christmas day so everyone could spend the day with their families, though they normally met up later in the day anyway. “Woah Y/N this is amazing!” ponyboy stared in awe of the bookmark y/n made for him with a sunset painted on it with watercolour. “I’m glad you like it.” Y/N gave Pony a warm smile and handed a bigger package to Darry. He opened it and smiled to himself. “A new baking bowl! just what i needed!” Soda laughed. “Grandma Dar and his baking.” Darry set the bowl down carefully far away from them so it wouldn’t get broken before pulling Sodapop into a headlock. “i won’t make you cookies no more then, see how you like that!” The two wrestled on the ground before Soda gave up. Y/N laughed and handed presents to the rest of the gang.

Johnny gasped when he opened his present. Dally looked over at him and could’ve sworn he was close to tears. “Y/N this is beautiful.” He looked at the small piece of paper in his hand. it was a pencil drawing of all the gang together, it was small enough to fit into a wallet, which y/n knew johnny carried around because all the gang had pitched in to buy it for his birthday. Y/N smiled but was interrupted before they could say anything by soda stomping his feet. Y/N had made him a watercolour painting of a horse, he recognised who it was right away. it was his horse, mickey mouse. “Y/N how did you get this!!” He was also close to tears but he was smiling from ear to ear. “well it’s a long story, yknow the way my parents own a ranch? well they somehow knew who bought mickey mouse all those years ago and i got in contact with them. i went to their ranch about 4 hours drive away. obviously i didn’t have the money to buy him off the rancher but i got a picture and painted it, that way you’ll always have him.” Y/N smiled. in reality mickey mouse had died about two years ago and that was just a picture the farmer had but Sodapop didn’t have to know that.

Dally opened his gift. “what is it?” Dally looked confused. Y/N laughed. “They’re fingerless gloves, crocheted. that way your hands might be slightly warmer than ice like they normally are, but you can still have full use of your hands cause let’s be honest the fingers are always annoying in gloves.” Dally smiled, he’d never admit it, but he appreciated the thought. “Y/N! This is so cool!” Y/N looked at him and smiled. Steve held up a sleeveless denim jacket with the back panel painted black with “you can’t handle the randle” painted on in big red letters and fire painted at the bottom. The front had little embroideries on it too. all things that meant something to Steve. “Glad you like it!”

“You’re so talented Y/N! But uh- where’s my present?” Two-Bit chuckled, he’d been surprisingly quiet up until now. Y/N gasped “Oh shit. i forgot your present.” They laughed about it and Y/N promised to give it to him the next day. After a while Two-Bit went out to the front porch to smoke a cigarette and Y/N followed him a few minutes later. Once they knew the two of them were alone they turned to Two-Bit. “I didn’t forget your present, i just wanted to give it to you away from the others.” They pulled a small box out of their pocket. it had red wrapping paper and black ribbon on it. Two-Bit took it from them and opened it carefully. Inside was a ring with ‘i love you’ engraved on the inside. On the outside intricate patterns were also engraved, but it didn’t look too busy or cluttered, just pretty and detailed. “i didn’t make this one, but i designed it” Two-Bit put it on and when he rubbed his thumb along the surface he realised it could spin. he played with it for a moment before Y/N spoke again. “it helps to calm you down or distract you when, y’know-” Two-Bit nodded. Y/N knew he struggled with anxiety, all the gang did to a degree, but he had it the worst by far. “it’s beautiful darlin, it really is. Thank you.” Two-Bit hugged Y/N before looking around to see if anyone was there. when he was sure there wasn’t he gave them a quick kiss. none of the boys knew about the two of them, and they don’t want any of them finding out this way. “Happy christmas my love.” Y/N whispered. “Happy christmas.” Two replied, smiling to himself.

#i love Two-Bit don’t you dare give out abt him being the love interest #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two-bit mathews #dallas winston x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #darry x reader #sodapop curtis x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Falling For the Devil [Part sixty-two: "The Pinky Promise"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt and you have a coffee date in the park.

Or The pair of you work on your communication together--though neither of you have trouble flirting.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: Another fluffy installment to make up for all of that angst! You're getting closer to the sexual tension that eventually brings smupdates back after what happened. You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here.

Bundled in your winter coat, you guided Matt and yourself around the path at the local park. There was a hot coffee in your left hand, your right hand holding onto his, both of your fingers intertwined together. His cane was currently folded up and in the pocket of his winter coat, his own right hand holding a cup of coffee instead. Matt had invited you out this afternoon to grab coffee, and because it was a surprisingly warmer day despite the fact that it was the very beginning of March, you and Matt had decided to take advantage of it by going on a walk instead of staying at the coffee shop.

“So what is it Ellison has you working on now?” Matt asked curiously.

Your shoulders dropped at the question and a deep sigh left you. Walking in step beside you, Matt chuckled at the frustrated noise. His left hand squeezed yours comfortingly in return.

“Well I’m off of copy editing duty, at least,” you began. “But I’m still on his shit list. I’m working on a piece for a local fundraiser coming up. Which yes, it’s for a great cause and it definitely deserves attention,” you told him, “but Katy meanwhile is covering that weird string of homicides–”

“Stay out of that,” Matt cut in quickly.

Head turning, you shot Matt a questioning look. “What?” you asked.

“Stay out of that,” he repeated. “I’m keeping an eye on Katy but…neither of you should be involved in that.”

“Do I…want to know?” you asked cautiously.

“No,” he answered immediately.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Uh, well. Point being I’m glad I’m covering something again,” you continued, “but I mean…it’s not that interesting, either.”

“It’s safer,” Matt pointed out.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your gaze involuntarily dropping down to your injured side.

Matt gently tugged at your hand, the gesture catching your attention. You glanced back up at him and saw him smiling back at you beneath those red lenses. His head nodded to an empty park bench nearby, just on the side of the path.

“Why don’t we sit for a minute?” he suggested. “Give you a little break from walking?”

With a sigh, you nodded and led the pair of you over towards the bench. Matt sat down beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and drawing you further into his side. You couldn’t resist the little smile forming on your mouth when he did. Your head lowered, coming to rest comfortably on his shoulder. A second later you felt his hand shift along your shoulders before he began affectionately combing his fingers through your hair.

“It’s healing pretty well,” Matt told you.

“Is it?” you asked curiously, your eyes watching as others passed the pair of you by.

“Sounds like–” he paused, his head tilting briefly to the side, “–maybe another week before it’s mostly healed. No sign of infection.”

“Probably because I have someone with experience keeping stab wounds clean helping me,” you muttered.

“How’re you doing, by the way?” he asked carefully. “Emotionally? With–with everything?”

Your eyes dropped down to your coffee cup in your hands, fidgeting awkwardly with the little cardboard sleeve. “Better,” you answered quietly. “The nightmares have lessened, as I’m guessing you noticed. And I don’t constantly feel like anyone is sneaking up on me in my apartment anymore, not with Backman arrested and you, you know, making sure no one else is out there taking an interest in me.”

Matt’s forehead lowered, coming to rest against the top of your head where it still lay along his shoulder. “I’m sorry that happened,” he whispered. He shifted, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to Backman sooner, that I didn’t–”

“Matt, stop,” you cut him off. “Stop beating yourself up. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You did everything you could. And I am so grateful for you finding and saving me that night. This wasn’t exactly on you.”

Your left hand released the coffee cup, reaching behind you and grabbing his right hand. You unwound it from behind your shoulders and drew it up to your mouth, your lips placing a kiss to his torn and battered knuckles.

“I went poking too close to Backman,” you said, lips brushing the back of his hand as you spoke. “I was being reckless. I’ve certainly learned from that. And I am definitely going to listen to you next time.” You turned his hand over, bringing his palm to your mouth as you kissed that gently, too.

“Why didn’t you just give him my name?” he asked.

Your head turned on his shoulder until you were looking up at him. He was focused straight ahead now, those dark glasses once again covering his eyes and the emotions behind them.

“You can’t be serious, can you?” you shot back in disbelief. “You really think I’d give him your name?”

“I meant,” Matt said softly, his gaze dropping down to his feet, “I wish you would have.”

You pulled back from him, your brows drawing together as you studied him. He looked a little tense, his shoulders a bit stiff as he sat there beside you. It looked like he was chewing the inside of his cheek with the way his mouth was moving, too.

“I would never have given him your name, Matt,” you told him firmly. “He’d have gone after you. Hurt you. You think I could just live with that?”

“Better me than you,” he murmured.

You shook your head roughly, squeezing his hand firmly in yours. “No. Uh uh. Stop that martyr shit right now, Matthew. You look at me.”

The corner of his lip twitched almost into a smile. “You know I can’t,” he said, his head turning towards you as he spoke.

“Matthew Michael Murdock this is not the time for blind jokes,” you scolded him, though you couldn’t entirely keep the smile off of your own mouth. “I would never give your secret up, Matt. And also, there was no part of me that believed he’d have just let me go, either. So really, we’d both probably end up dead in that scenario.”

The little smile that had slipped onto his mouth instantly fell away. Your eyes narrowed curiously as you continued to study him beside you on the bench. It definitely looked like something was bothering him; his body was still a little tense and he seemed a bit distant.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked.

He shook his head lightly, his covered gaze falling away from you. Releasing the hold you had on his hand, you reached out and grabbed his cheek. Carefully you turned his face back towards yours.

“Hey,” you whispered. “You can tell me anything, Matt. And we are supposed to be working on talking to each other," you reminded him. "What’s bothering you?”

For a moment he remained silent as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the stubble of his beard lightly rasping the pad of your finger. Very slowly you watched his body relax before you, his shoulders dropping as he inevitably leaned further into your hand.

“It’s stupid,” he began, shrugging lightly. “My fault really for eavesdropping but…I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Hearing you tell Karen that you regretted that night we met.”

Your face fell at his words, your heart twisting in your chest. “Oh Matt,” you whispered. “You clearly stopped listening to that conversation pretty quickly or you’d have heard Karen call me out on saying that. I never meant that,” you told him, shaking your head firmly. “I was hurt and angry, but I didn’t mean it. We’ve had our issues lately–pretty big ones, yes–but you’ve been the best thing in my life. That night at Josie’s was one of my favorite nights. Granted," you continued, tone softening to something lighter, "I then proceeded to have the biggest crush for a year and had no idea the feelings were reciprocated.”

A beautiful smile slowly lit up his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners just behind his glasses and that dimple in his right cheek forming–you would do anything to always see that dimple. The warmth of his smile was easily stirring up those nervous butterflies he somehow still managed to give you even after all of this time. You couldn’t fight back the matching, bright smile forming on your own face.

“Oh?” he teased, turning just a bit to quickly peck your hand still on his cheek. “You had a crush on little old me?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as your hand dropped to your lap. “Please, there’s nothing little about you, Matt," you replied.

Instantly you realized what you’d just said, eyes flying to Matt as one of his brows quirked up high above the red lens of his glasses. You clapped a hand over your mouth before you burst into a laugh behind it. He sat there smirking coyly back at you.

“Is that so?” he continued to tease.

“That is not what I meant!” you wheezed out between laughs.

He pulled a face, head tilting to the side. “So you’re going to just take that compliment back?” he asked.

A snort fell out of you as you continued to laugh behind your hand. Matt’s mouth, as it always did at that sound, curled up into a smile again.

“How did we end up talking about this?” you asked as your laughter subsided, placing the back of your hand against your blushing cheek.

Matt shrugged as he smiled innocently back at you. “Not sure,” he answered. “I’m guessing it's the adorable lack of filter between your brain and your mouth you always tell me about.”

“Oh is it?” you sassed back.

“Mmm, or maybe it’s that talent you’ve still never shown me,” Matt mused. “You know, shoving your foot in your mouth?”

“Will you ever let me live that down?” you asked him.

“Not until I witness it myself,” he answered.

Rolling your eyes again, you drew your coffee up to your mouth and drank down the warm liquid. Matt’s arm wrapped back around your shoulder, slowly drawing you right back into his side. Your head lowered down to rest along his shoulder again, a contented sigh leaving you.

“I missed this,” he admitted. “Just being with you. Laughing. You just…make everything better when I’m with you.”

Turning, you planted a kiss to his shoulder. “I feel the same way,” you admitted before laying your head back against him.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair of you as you both sat on the bench, drinking down your coffees. Matt’s fingers had resumed combing through your hair, the gesture relaxing you further into his side. The fingers of your left hand were absently tracing patterns onto his thigh that was pressed alongside yours.

Only two weeks ago it felt like everything had been broken between the two of you, as if the damage was possibly irreparable. But over the past almost two weeks you’d both been slowly finding your way back to each other. Despite it being slow going, you saw things mending between the pair of you. And not only just mending, but growing stronger. Communication had vastly improved between you both. Which also meant Matt wasn’t hiding his feelings from you like he so often had in the past, even if he sometimes required a little reminding. And you had found yourself more readily voicing your concerns and fears in turn.

“What’re you thinking about?” Matt asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “You seem quite deep in your head.”

“Us,” you answered.

“Ahh, yes,” Matt teased, the tone of his voice instantly drawing a smile to your face, “because when I asked what was on your mind, I really wanted a vague response.”

You laughed lightly, turning and burying your face into his shoulder as you did. His own shoulders were shaking gently as he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you muttered, head rising as you rested your chin on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how happy I am that this didn’t end for good. That we managed to talk and work through things.”

His head turned, a grin on his face. “Me too, sweetheart,” he said. “I really didn’t think that would be possible.”

A thought struck you suddenly and you drew back from Matt. Raising your left hand between the pair of you, you stuck out your pinky finger. You watched as Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his focus dropping down towards your hand hovering in the space between both of you.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Making a pinky promise with the Devil, obviously,” you playfully shot back. “Hold up your hand.”

With a defeated sigh and a smile still spread across his lips, Matt raised his hand beside yours. He extended his pinky and then quirked a brow silently at you.

“We’re going to make a pinky promise,” you began, “that we’re going to use our grown up words and communicate when shit gets difficult again. Because I’m sure it will, especially with what both of us do. And,” you continued as Matt patiently listened beside you, “we’re not breaking up again over something like that. Or running away from our problems. We’re going to try to fix them and work on things together .”

“You…want to make a pinky promise over something that serious?” he questioned.

“Yes,” you answered. “Do you want to break a pinky promise with me, Matty?”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No,” he answered. “You’re right. You’re far too adorable for me to want to do that.”

His pinky finger wrapped around yours as yours curled back around his. Both of your hands stayed like that for a moment before you finally released his.

“Glad that’s settled,” you joked.

As your hand lowered back to your lap, Matt’s hand darted out across the space between you, landing along on your neck. He gently drew you in towards him, the movement briefly taking you by surprise. And then his mouth was on yours, soft and warm. It took your brain a moment to realize what was happening before your lips began to move in response to his.

“Matt–” you began between kisses, “–what–”

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips.

At his words, you kissed him back harder, your hand rising to grasp the back of his neck, fingers slipping into his hair. You pulled back only just long enough to whisper "I love you" in return, and then your mouth was back on his.

You ignored the onlookers as you sat on that park bench kissing Matt. You didn't care who was watching the two of you this afternoon, because two weeks ago, you'd never have believed you could even be sitting on a park bench kissing Matt again.

And you weren't planning to stop any time soon.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #fftd

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

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Can you make a part two to ‘The Only Thing That Matters’, possibly with Chishiya at his workplace the next day!? I love your work thank uuu💕💕

The Only Thing That Matters - Part 2

I'm sorry it's taken a while! This started off with nurses gossiping about him and then took off in a different, but wholesome direction.

I think I just wanted a different universe where Hayato lives :(

Chishiya x fem reader. You can find part 1 on my materlist.

_______________________________________________

News always did travel fast, especially in hospitals.

From the moment I stepped into work, I had been assaulted by sideways glances, whispers, and one or two heated blushes from nurses, doctors and fellow surgeons alike. I wasn’t oblivious to the way women - and some men - sometimes looked at me, but this was different. This was annoying.

I entered the shared surgeons’ office and turned up the mini heater under my desk, glad for the warmth, peace and quiet. However, I had only so much as switched on the computer and logged onto the hospital system, when a timid knock sounded from the door.

‘Come in.’

A young, female junior doctor peeked through. ‘Chishiya-sensei? It’s about that patient, the little boy, Hayato. He was just brought into recovery now.’

Hayato’s surgery was always going to be complicated. Originally, I had been assigned to Hayato’s care. However, due to “priority” surgeries, the only slot available had been in the early hours of the morning, and my manager had transferred Hayato’s case to my colleague.

Was I glad? Perhaps. It was one less patient to concern myself with. But there was something else about him. The innocent questions he had asked, the way he clutched his mother’s hand every time I told him what exactly the surgery would entail. There was something mysterious that intrigued me about his case.

But what?

‘He’s still under anaesthesia,’ the junior doctor said, drawing my attention back into the office. ‘But you can go and see him if you want.’

I ignored her suggestion. ‘Did the surgery go well?’

‘It was a success! It’s good you’re so invested, Chishiya-sensei. Do you have children yourself?’

My mood instantly darkened. Did she really think I couldn’t read between the lines? That I was so ignorant I wouldn’t know what had caused her to ask, or the intentions behind it?

‘No.’

“Ah. Oh well.’ She tried to hide a smile. ‘Does Mrs Chishiya not want children?’

‘What Mrs Chishiya wants is nobody’s business but my own.’

And certainly not yours.

The doctor froze, then bowed her head in apology. A pink blush spread across her cheeks. ‘Forgive me. I was a little too forward.’

Just a little?

She disappeared, the door shutting softly behind her. Due to her own unprofessionalism, she was probably going to avoid me for the rest of the week. How convenient. It would be one less headache to deal with.

However, her news had stirred something inside me. Hayato had been in and out of the hospital for weeks, his condition rapidly declining. His liver was quickly giving up, and would have eventually failed if not for the last minute donation.

I was in no rush, but I still found myself drawn into the ward, where doctors, physicians, anaesthetists and nurses rushed around, unconcerned by my presence. I didn’t have to think. My feet moved automatically, directing me towards recovery.

Now, after the surgery, Hayato was already looking healthier. His skin was warmer in tone, less clammy, even if he was still unconscious and hooked up to a heart monitor. I approached the bed, wondering why I was even bothering. This boy was no longer my patient.

‘He’s doing so well.’

A general nurse appeared from behind me. Unlike the junior doctor, Ume had been working at this hospital for at least forty years. She always plodded along happily, despite having arthritis in her hip. Not that I cared. I only knew because she never stopped talking about it in the staff lunch room. Ume checked his condition, ensuring his IV had enough fluid.

‘It looks like he’s going to pull through just fine,’ she said.

‘I see.’

What am I doing here?

She carefully adjusted Hayato’s pillow, ensuring his neck was supported. ‘It’s good that he’s got someone like you watching over him. You’d make a good father.’

My first instinct was to recoil. Was this really what they thought of me? Now that they knew I was married, they were obsessed with painting me as a family man? I must have been glaring at Ume, as she took a step back, nervousness flashing across her features.

She raised a withered hand. ‘I apologise, that was too much. I just think that any child you might have would be lucky.’

I thought about my wife, the way your hair lay sprawled out on the pillow that morning, and the flash of your smile every time I arrived home after a long shift. You had never said anything about starting a family, but knowing your caring nature and how much enjoyment you gained from baby-sitting others’ children, you were probably holding back.

What kind of father would I be?

The only image I could conjure was my father’s back, hunched over his desk.

‘I wouldn’t say they would be lucky,’ I said.

‘Hmm…’ Ume smiled. ‘I think you’re doing yourself a disservice, Chishiya-sensei. My son is trying for a child with his wife. He wasn’t sure if he wanted one at first either. They decided to wait until they settled down, which was difficult because I wanted grandchildren of my own right away, even if they had just married. For a long time, I was worried I had pressurised him too much, but it turned out he just hadn’t been ready until now. I’m not complaining anymore. I’m happy for them either way, whatever they choose to do.’

Her story did nothing for me. These people didn’t matter to me whatsoever. They were just small, insignificant names in a family line I didn’t belong to. In fact, I didn’t want to talk about this, especially not with Ume. This discussion had run its course.

’Do you have the surgery list for today?’ I asked.

Her face fell slightly. ‘Yes, Chishiya-sensei. Your first patient is due at 9am.’

Nodding, I walked away. I simply had no interest in conversations like these.

Despite this, all throughout the morning I had found myself distracted. After staring out of the window for fifteen minutes, I realised I had missed the tail end of an important meeting. When I sat down at my desk to check the shift rota, I stared at the screen for a long, long time, before eventually remembering why I had sat down at all. Meanwhile, the stares continued, the giggles, the whispers in the staff lunch room.

By the time my break rolled around, I was already bored of being the latest piece of gossip on the grapevine. Wandering outside into the car park, I pulled out my phone and dialled the only number I knew by heart. It picked up on the third ring.

‘Woah!’ Your voice was fuzzy down the line, but just hearing it eased this boredom. ‘Chishiya Shuntarou, calling me at lunch? To what do I owe the honour?’

‘How has your day been so far?’

It was a stupid question to ask. I wasn’t sure why I was calling, either. Or why I wavered so much in my response.

‘Oh, you know, the usual. Corporate nonsense.’

Finding a quiet corner away from the bus stop and the smokers, I leaned against the brick wall of the hospital. ‘Ah… that’s good.’

‘You sound really weird. Is everything okay?’

There was concern there. Concern that I didn’t want. But no matter what, there would always be concern, whether it was that our marriage was too work-heavy, that my parents would always frown upon her, that really, she should have married somebody else…

‘You always wanted to start a family,’ I said quietly. ‘But you’ve never brought it up.’

There was silence on the other end. ‘How did you know?’

‘Because I know you.’

Once again, a hesitation. ‘I do want that.’

‘Then why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because you don’t want that.’

Of all the stupid reasons…

My fingers tightened around the phone. ’You shouldn’t have put your life on hold,’ I said. ‘It’s not all about what I want.’

‘And it’s not all about what I want either,’ you replied swiftly. There was a defeated, slightly muffled sigh. ‘We’re in this together, Shuntarou, and we both know you’re not ready for children. You might never be. And that’s okay.’

Your voice was soft and comforting, yet tinged with sadness. There were no words I could offer that hadn’t already been spoken.

‘And besides,’ you added. ‘I haven’t actually put my life on hold. You’re my life now, whether I like it or not. And I don’t want a family if it’s not with you.’

‘I…’ I swallowed, unable to find the right thing to say. The words disappeared as soon as I thought them.

‘I know,’ you said. ‘I love you too, Shuntarou.’

All at once, your voice, so calm and assured, expelled any lingering doubt in my mind. Just like the spring sunshine, gently melting the frosted landscape of my life.

#alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya x reader #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu

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okiidokii · 1 year

Text

Obligotry Once-a-Month art post, and here's the main five designs lol.

I'm hella busy right now and I already barely had time to draw the Lagoona and Cleo designs, I then realized I had some problems with my first take on the big three so I redesigned them. I'll make bios for Lagoona and Cleo (as well as Ghoulia and Spectra, who are supposed to be part of this "Wave 1" lineup), but just unshaded full-bodies for now.

edit: Individual artworks cause the main image is blurry as shit 😭

Tangent under the Cut!

I made some little changes for Frankie ( I now realize I didn't even complete the pattern of the leg warmers, but ngl I'm vibing with the asymmetry). I just thought their design was too busy to work for a doll. Not that I am planning on making these designs into dolls, but that was my mindset when designing them. The excessive patterns, while looking cool to me, might seem off-putting to see on shelves so I toned it down a bit. Also removed some layers of clothes cause LOL there is NO way Mattel would ever put that many layers on a playline doll. Also changed the shoes, kinda rushed the first ones I designed I didn't like them at all. I feel these one fit my direction for Frankie a lot more.

Cleo was very inspired by Mcbling era of 2000s fashion. I like G1 Cleo a lot, but I think she was of the main dolls who didn't really have a clear fashion style attached to her, just wearing Egyptian motifs. Which don't get me wrong, looked really good at times, but I feel a lot more could be done with her. I associate the Mcbling era with extreme consumerism and hyper-femininity, and like... if that's not Cleo. Gave Cleo hazy eyes, jaundice, and generally ashy skin so she looks especially dead looking.

I didn't really have that much beef with my Clawdeen design as much as I had beef with her drawing. Like it looked SO bad compared to the rest. I actually sat my as down and drew her braids this time. I also changed her bra-mesh shirt cause 1.) again, Mattel will never put that many layers on a playline doll 2.)IDK maybe I'm a prude but perhaps it was too much for a 15 year old?

Lagoona was really a case of having my cake (making her Australian) and eating it too (making her a WOC). My Lagoona Blue is a Yawk-Yawk, a sea creature with sea-weed hair from the Bininj indigenous people of Australia. I wanted to connect her to an actual sea creature because honestly G1 half-sea nymph thing was vague as hell, and G3 is giving us literally nothing.I'd like to imagine the seaweed being a plastic mold at the back of her neck, like Viperine snakes. A lot of redesigns of Lagoona tend to go for streetwear or sport-leisure, but I went for beach fashion cause I liked the vibes. To compensate for the utter mainstreamness of her fashion, I tried to give her weird makeup.

Drac changed significantly because she was the only one whose design I outright disliked, at least for a hypothetical core doll. I removed the pink streaks cause I thought while it might look cool as a drawing, it might look garish on a doll (that and It'd be difficult to root with a machine). Still think the design might be a hassle to translate to doll form (the skirt is WAY too much), so I might have to revise it, again. But I like this direction much more.

#honestly lagoona is my favorite simply for how much I snuck into her design #like her choker is the plastic rings of soda packaging (they get infamously caught by turtle in the ocean)#Her headflower is the Stuart Desert Rose(the national flower of the Northern Territory in Australia where the Bininji people are)#her eyebrows resemble fish skeletons #her earrings are dragonflies (an insect Yawk-Yawks can transform into)#and her seahorse from G1 holds her fisherman's net-looking crochet sweater together (an Idea I stole from Moderngurlz design lol)#they're references in the others as well but yeah Lagoona definitely had the most #Monster High #Hokii's Dokiis #redesign #fanart #Monster High fanart #Monster High redesign #Frankie Stein #Cleo de Nile #Clawdeen Wolf #Lagoona Blue #Draculaura #my post #ohh boy here comes a bunch of tags

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auxiliarydetective · 3 months

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Sweeter Than Sugar and Twice As Sharp

Behold! The ultimate cutie of this blog! It's Lily!

Bases by Destinys-Heart and ShinanaPixelBases on DeviantArt

Detailed breakdown and separate baby and kid forms under the cut!

As per usual, we'll be going top to bottom!

The ears. Lily is a fennec fox and fennec foxes have big ears, but baby fennec foxes especially are 90% ears, so the same is true for baby Lily.

Generally, I based Lily's fur colors off of real fennec foxes. Their tails are surprisingly dark!

Have you ever seen fennec fox teeth? They're tiny and razor-sharp. I settled for giving Lily only the canines, in true cute anime fashion. Still, those things cause serious ouchies. You do not wanna be bitten by them.

Funny story about that necklace: I simply didn't like that there was so much dead space in kid Lily's collarbone area, so I decided to add a necklace, but I didn't know what kind of necklace. So, I looked through my gallery and found screenshots from the garden of Kaya's mansion. One of those screenshots showed the pond with the gigantic lily pads - and water lilies! A pun? Perfect! Thus, Lily got a water lily necklace, and I will turn this into a plot point in a future fic because I have something very sweet for it in mind <3

The necklace was originally meant to resemble rose gold, but I'm not sure if I want it to be actual rose gold yet since that would be expensive. We'll see...

Ah yes, the dress. The bane of my existence. I found it on Pinterest and decided that Lily just HAD to wear it. And so, I spent hours drawing and coloring it :) - But I think it turned out really cute!

Lily is a ballerina, in case you didn't know, so she gets the typical tights, leg warmers and shoes. She would actually be in the correct age range to be starting to dance en pointe! Also, her being a ballerina just makes sense to me? She needs a little hobby and ballet just seemed perfect. One day, I'll write some cute scenes of her asking Sanji to help her train...

No shoes on baby Lily both because I did NOT wanna draw those again and also because a five year old should NOT be dancing en pointe. Their poor baby toes and legs and... entire bodies, really. So, she's barefoot like a true kindergartener on permanent summer vacation

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄✼▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @supermarine-silvally - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

#one piece #one piece oc #oc: felicity #fyeahonepieceocs #artsy

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sofiiel · 1 year

Text

Ch.1 | From the Ashes

"Oh sure, yeah. We'll just pull the CIA up in the phone book."

------------------------------ MASTERLIST | NEXT | THEME -------------------------------

Your feet feel on fire, the same burn fills your lungs, but this air around you feel so much cleaner, warmer, sweeter. You're out, But your body hurts so much more than you ever remember, pain. You'd almost forgotten the hurt.

Your eyes strain in the dark and dust. It makes you sneeze.

Sirens caw in the surrounding echoes, people are screaming and crying in confusion. The raw essence of the emotions whirling around the chaos strikes you like stones.

You needed to get far away from this place, from this ruin. With eyes unadjusted to the new place, you make a run for it. Avoiding the bright red and blue flashing lights and scattered people.

The loud drumming of helicopter propellers is near deafening, causing you to clamp your hands firmly over your ears as you run for nearby trees.

"Keep running!" A voice chimed frantically in your head. "Move faster, he cannot see you." it said.

Sticks and rocks stabbed your bare feet, drawing more blood from fresh scars. Coming to a halt in the middle of an empty street, you try and catch your breath.

A gurgle sounds odd behind you, and before you can turn you're knocked to the ground, claws digging deep into your shoulders. "Stop it!" You shouted at the monster as it flared its mouth open, showing off rows of needle teeth.

You struggle beneath it, Headlights rounding the corner ahead of you. Your heart's racing, and you are too weak to keep the creature at bay. Your arms shake.

Laying your head back, you look up to see an on coming machine, it took your mind some time to remember what they were called. "Car." you exhaled.

Drawing up your strength, you closed your eyes and in an instant, you popped from under the creature and off to the side of the road. Laying on your stomach, you watched the large vehicle roll over your enemy, coming to a quick stop.

The laughter and merry headbanging in the green van flew into frantic shouting. "Please tell me that was a deer!" Gareth shouted, hands pulling at his hair. "I didn't see anything, maybe it was already roadkill." Jeff said.

Eddie's foot still pressed hard against the brake. His screaming stopped, but his wide eyes wavered as he watched his headlights light up the asphalt.

Knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

"What if it was somebody?" asked David. "Oh my god, they're mush, they'd have to be." Jeff said. "Uh, not helping, It likely wasn't a person." Gareth said.

"It could have been." Eddie murmured, looking at him.

"There wasn't a scream," Gareth said.

Drawing in a deep breath, Eddie freed himself from the seatbelt and opened the door. "You two stay here, Gareth, with me." Eddie said. Meeting Eddie around the driver's side, Gareth looked up at him with apprehension as the two carefully walked to the front of the van.

"Ugh," Gareth said, holding his stomach. He didn't want to look, but he could not steal his eyes away from the murky red mush seeping from under the van.

"What in the hell did we hit?" Eddie questioned, inching closer, but as the mush bubbled he jumped back with a yelp. Eddie and Gareth grabbed onto each other, "holy fuck!" Gareth shouted.

"Get in the van," Eddie said, giving Gareth a shove, "get back in the van!"

As Gareth moved to run, something shifted in the shadows of the roadside. His feet stopped moving, "what are you doing?" Eddie asked him, pausing mid-climb into the Van.

"There's something out there." Gareth said.

"What'd you guys see?" Jeff called.

Gareth looked over his shoulder to Eddie, beckoning him to follow, "Dude, come with me." he said. Eddie let out a fearful chuckle, "no way in hell man, come on. Let's go." No sooner had the words left Eddie's mouth, did the shadows shift once more.

Eddie fell silent, and his jaw clench tight. "This is stupid..." He exhaled as he slipped back out of the van. With tinny steps, he followed Gareth. "This is so incredibly stupid." He repeated. "Shhh," Gareth hushed. "I think it's hurt, maybe the mush wasn't what you hit, just....residue or somethin?" Gareth asked.

"Do you want to see what the thing looks like if that mush came from it?" Eddie asked back.

Gareth stopped and peered into the darkness, Eddie standing over his shoulder. The boys gasped and looked ot each other before rushing towards it. Faces pale.

"What do you think it is?" David asked, turning to Jeff. Jeff shrugged, he couldn't say, but their question was soon answered as Eddie and Gareth ran back to the car.

"Is that a person!" David shouted in panic.

"Oh shit, goddammit!" Eddie cursed out of breath. He carried the girl with his arms under hers, her beck and head propped onto his chest. Gareth shuffled backwards, carrying her feet. "D-did you hit her?" Jeff stammered, watching his friends try and get the girl into the back of the van. "Lower the seats for us." Gareth instructed.

David moved as quickly as he could to lower the seat.

Your vision was shaky, fading been the black curtain of unconsciousness and the blur that was left of the waking world. You could make out frantic faces, words swimming in slurs in your ears.

"Lay her down, and prop her head up."

"With what?"

"Anything!" a sharp voice shouted.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man. She's bleedin so much!"

"Hospital?"

"Look at those ears...and-"

You could hear screaming from each of the four voices. Looking down at your hand, you noticed your arm was nothing but a wisp of turning hues of red and blue, like a flickering mist of light.

"Everyone get in."

"But where are we going?"

Your vision and consciousness faded.

Eddie ran up the steps to his home, his hands trembled violently as he tried to get the key in the door. "Ran over a freaky alien ghost girl in the middle of the fucking night." He whispered, shaking his head. "And I can't get this stupid door open!" he raged.

Jeff and Gareth carried the girl up the steps, David close behind them. It was late at night and the boys could only hope no one was awake.

"Finally!" Eddie called out, swinging open the door and holding it there while the boys rushed in. "Take her to my room, we'll cover the bed and lay her there." He instructed.

Inside, David gathered some sheets, and tried his best to cover Eddie's mattress, tossing the blanket and pillows to the floor. Eddie looked around outside, no one seemed to be out or looking. Once he was sure it was clear, he rushed inside and locked the door behind him.

"She's in bad shape, man." Gareth said, Jeff rummaged through Eddie's cabinets around the home. "You got bandages or? A first aid kit?" He asked. Eddie pointed from his place in the small hall, "under the kitchen sink. But It won't do much." Eddie said.

Eddie rubbed his eyes, hoping that they were playing tricks on him. But as he stood over the injured girl, her body was still nothing but a ghostly array of colors.

David's lips were sucked in tight as he watched with terror on his face. "What is she?" he asked.

"Even her clothes are ghostly...." Gareth murmured.

"Wait, it's stopping." Eddie said quietly. The three boys hovered over the girl, watching in amazed fright as she became solid once more. Body riddled in open wounds and blistered burns.

"Was she in a fire?" Gareth asked.

Eddie shook his head and ran for the living room. He snatched the remote from his Uncle's favorite recliner and turned on the small TV. His fingers quickly flipping through the channels until he passed "Breaking News" in bold letters.

"The Star Court Mall as appeared to have caught fire tonight. An investigation is already underway. Reports say multiple persons have been injured and many are unaccounted for. Why they were there has yet to be disclosed. It appears to have been some sort of explosion-"

Eddie pressed his fist to his mouth as he watched the news. Behind him, Jeff stood quietly with the first aid box. "Do you think?" Jeff asked. Eddie nodded his head, "She's covered in burns and shit." Eddie said. Turning, he took the box from Jeff and headed back to his room.

"So who's gonna...you know," Gareth murmured as he looked away from the girl uncomfortably. "What?" David asked. "I mean she's can't stay in those clothes right?" Gareth asked.

"Oh god." Jeff exhaled. "They're soaked and singed. Something will get infected." Eddie muttered. "It's gonna take two of us," Gareth said.

"Rock paper scissors?" David questioned. The boys gathered in a circle.

"Alright, ready?" asked Jeff. The other nodded.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors - Shoot!"

"Damn it...." Eddie groaned, "Why's it always me." David whimpered.

Gareth released a long sigh of relief, "I would say I'm sorry, but, I'm not." he said. "Alright, you two out." Eddie instructed, pointing to his bedroom door. "Make sure Uncle Wayne isn't coming." He added.

"Let's be quick with this." Eddie sighed, rummaging through his drawers for pants and a shirt.

"Quick? Dude, I've never dressed anyone before." David complained. "You've dressed yourself." said Eddie. David rolled his eyes, "not the same, you know it." he hummed. "It's not gonna fit her well, if at all." Eddie sighed.

"A sheet then? Cut sleeves and shit and then just....tie it?" David asked. Eddie snapped his fingers, and pointed, "that might work."

"You cannot hide." A rumbling voice shook your mind.

Eyes flying open, you shit up, body instantly in protest at the quick movement. Calming yourself down, you find yourself in a room you don't recognize. It's dark, all the lights are out and several layers of sheets blocked the windows.

You tilt your head in confusion, letting your eyes scan the room. Your hands pull you forward as you crawl to the edge of the bed, leaning to peer over.

A sleep face comes into view, you remember it as one from the road. Leaning down more, you get a close look, nearly nose to nose. He twitches his nose as your breath tickles his skin.

Reaching out, you press a finger into his cheek to make sure he was real and not one of 'his' illusions. The warmth of the boy's skin and the way that the flesh bounced back into place with you drew away your finger was reassuring, He was real.

Panic began to settle, he was real.

You couldn't afford to be found, you couldn't go back.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, upon locking into yours and seeing how near you were where he screamed.

The shock from the sound made you tumbled off the bed. The two of you scrambling to get away from each other and wakening the room.

"Eddie?!" Jeff called, hoping to his feet, the three boys rushing to their friend.

You shuffle across the floor, scooting to back yourself up into a corner. Your heart's threatening to race from your chest. Eyes jumping from person to person. You didn't like hurting people, but then again, you didn't have the strength to attack if you wanted to.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just, hold on." Eddie spoke carefully. He slowly got to his feet, his eyes falling on you. "She's scared." He said.

"Right, guys. Let's give her some space." said the blonde. Your eyes watched him keenly as he took several steps back and the others copied.

You draw your knees to your chest, hugging them there.

"We won't hurt you, we swear." Eddie spoke up cautiously. Your eyes turned to him. Looking him up and down. "Were you in that fire at the mall?" He asked you.

You want to answer, but you can hardly remember what happened before running. When no answer came, the boys glanced at each other. "Maybe she hit her head?" the large boy asked.

"Maybe, or maybe she'd just wondering why she's sittin in some strange bed in the middle of the night. I'd be freaked out, too." Gareth said.

"Look we didn't do anything, I mean, David and Eddie, changed you because your clothes were ruined, and we needed to patch you up and-" The black boy ranted frantically as he looked between Eddie and the large boy.

"Honest, we didn't look much, and I didn't even want to." David confessed.

"How are you feeling? Is there anyone we can call?" Eddie asked.

You are quick to shake your head, "Don't call, I am fine. But... please." You plead. Eddie glanced at his friends, worried. "Ok," called the blonde. "We won't," Eddie said, daring to inch closer.

You pressed yourself further into the corner, and Eddie stopped. Slowly he stooped to your level at a distance, "We want to help." he said. "I'm Eddie, that's Jeff, David, and Gareth." He explained, pointing out his friends.

You examined them each carefully, "they don't look bad." You think. "But when do things every look as they should?" You mind questioned.

"She doesn't trust us." David said quietly, "would you?" Jeff asked.

Eddie tapped the side of his head, where his ears were hidden unto a mop of hair. "Your ears, they're pretty pointy, aren't they." He said, "You did this uh...kind of glowy ghost thing," Eddie rested his arms on his knees as his eyes looked into yours.

It wasn't often people could hold your gaze, only two succeeded before without looking away. "What are you?" He asked.

"I don't know." Your answer came in a whisper.

"Well, we're considered the local freaks so, you're probably in good hands." said Jeff.

"Probably?" Gareth asked. "That's not going to make her feel better."

You coughed lightly, "would you like some water?" Eddie asked. You bit your lip, "Do I trust them?" You wondered before giving a feeble nod. "I got it." David said, moving to leave the room.

Gareth sat in Eddie's chair, his arms folded over the back rest to support his chin as he watched you. Jeff and Davis each sat on the bed, eyes curiously stuck to you as well.

You quietly sipped the cold water from the ball jar, eyes focused on the ice bobbing inside. Ignoring the bemused gazes around you.

"She really likes water." Jeff pointed out. "Five glasses, how is she not burst yet." Gareth exhaled, baffled.

Eddie frowned, "If you were caught in a fire, you'd want all the water in the world too, right?" He asked his friends.

Your eyes snapped up towards them. "Sorry. Have I....had too much?" You asked timidly. You stopped sipping from the jar and hesitantly held it out. To be honest, you didn't want to give it up. Your body felt a blaze and the cold water was soothing.

"Did you want some too?" You asked, looking across each of their faces. "Idiot, you made her feel bad." David snapped. "I didn't mean to! I was just sayin..." Gareth nearly shouted.

"Don't mind these morons, They're just freaked out." Eddie said, turning to you from his spot on the floor. He offered a slight smile, "If they wanted some there's plenty, and they can just as well get their own. That's yours, drink up." He said.

You blinked a few times, but gladly drew back your hand and continued to sip.

"So, do you have a name?" Eddie asked you.

Quietly, you extended your arm, turning it to expose your wrist.

Eddie looked at his friends before leaning forward and craning his next to read the small set of numbers on your skin. "Seven?" He asked, brows knotted in confusion beneath his bangs.

Eddie smirked, "double O Seven? Huh?" He teased. Though it flew over your head. "Just seven." you said.

"No, he meant like in Dr. No." David said.

Your blank stare told him you knew nothing of it. "You don't know about James Bond?" Jeff asked carefully. You shake your head and the boys share glances.

"Your name can't be Seven, do you have another name? Like I dunno Katie, Sue, Norma...like that?" Gareth asked.

You turned to him after thinking for some time, "Y/n" You said.

"Y/n?" Eddie repeated, you turned to him and nod. "I think so." You answered. "You don't remember a lot, huh?" He asked. Peering down into your glass, you listen to the ice softly crackle. Memories of a dark cold world came to mind, you could almost feel the vines wrap around your ankles trying to hold you like a cage.

Your body shuddered, "I was in the there too long, It eats the parts you wish to remember the most. The hurt makes them stronger, but it's the 'self' part they want." You murmured.

The room fell silent, "what did she just say?" Gareth finally spoke up.

The boys simply shook their heads.

You released a long yawn, mouth opening wide. "You tired? You can rest here in the bed, we can sleep in the living room." Eddie offered.

"I didn't use to need sleep." You murmured with a frown. "What's happening?" you whispered.

"You don't sleep?" Jeff asked. You shook your head.

"Come on, guys, everyone out." Eddie said, getting to his feet. He walked to the bedroom door and stood in the entry. The other boys followed, and Eddie let them pass him.

"You can rest. Alright, we'll figure out what happened to you in the morning." He spoke carefully. Looking him over one more time, you relaxed a little. His face didn't seem dangerous, and the energy around him felt softer than those you'd been around previously.

You gave him a nod.

"He's afraid of you, too." You thought.

"Thank you." You said. Eddie paused on his way out of the room but offered a smile, "yeah, the least I can do after nearly or possibly running you down in the street." He said.

"Not me, the monster." you said.

Eddie turned to you, "monster?" He asked.

"You thought it was mush." You said in a yawn, staggering to your feet and hobbling to the bed. Eddie said nothing, and quietly closed the door as you crawled onto the mattress and closed your eyes.

The boys stood rigidly in the kitchen, when Eddie came running back inside, having stepped out to his van. In his hands was his DnD binder. "Got it," He said quietly.

Joining his friends in the small kitchen, he cracked open the binder and pulled out a handbook. "She's obviously not of this world." Eddie murmured, flipping through its pages.

"What are you thinking? Because I'm thinking we caught an alien." Gareth said, leaning against the counter top.

"She doesn't look like one though, and those years." sand David, creating points at the tips of his own ears my pulling the skin. "Maybe all those fantasy writers were actually onto something, We could have found Hawkins Big foot, or Nessie." Jeff said.

"Hawkins Elf? Or Fairy or something?" Gareth asked.

"I don't think so, not going all see through and colorful like that." David murmured.

"Shit." Eddie sighed, pulling his face away from the book. He gave his head a slight shake, "she doesn't fit the description for any specific thing. Then again...it is just a game, but it would have been nice to compare." he muttered.

"Maybe we should call somebody, the police or the FBI or...the CIA?" David asked.

Jeff rolled his eyes hard, "oh sure, yeah. We'll just pull the CIA up in the phone book." he snarked.

"Well, we can't keep her!" David nearly shouted.

"Shhhh, man, she's sleeping." Gareth said.

"She didn't want us to call anyone. I'd rather not piss off the ghostly girl, please." Eddie reasoned. "Besides, this is our find. They'd only lock her up in some tank, full of weird colored water and run tests on her for the rest of her life." he added.

"She's already terrified." Gareth jumped in.

"So can we be agreed, we keep quiet about this?" asked Eddie.

Jeff rubbed the top of his head in frustration, "I mean, I'm pretty terrified too." He said.

"What are you going to tell your Uncle Wayne?" David asked.

Eddie puffed out air from his nose and looked between them. "I don't know, probably just...that I brought a girl home." He said. "And that's going to work?" Gareth asked. Eddie shrugged, "I mean it's a fifty-fifty shot, so...it might." he said.

"And if it doesn't?" David asked.

"We saved her from the fire, she didn't want to go to a hospital because she was scared." Eddie said. He pointed at his friends, "But you tell no one else about this." He warned.

"Who would believe us?" asked Jeff.

------------------------------------ MASTERLIST | NEXT -------------------------------------

#steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

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popitdontdropitwrites · 2 years

Text

"New Invention" Engineer/Medic - Chapter 10

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,

❗ This is a sequel to Mx. Sinister. Events may not make sense if you have not read that fic.

Steam billowed from the kettle as Misha filled each cup with enormous, shaking hands. Amber curls flowed through the water, spreading, and reaching for him like liquid tongues from the deep mahogany depths. The colour only intensified as he spooned a generous heap of honey into his cup and he very nearly reached for the milk, a distant memory flickering before his eyes, one far warmer than reality and frighteningly easily to get lost in.

“Just a splash, bitte. You always put too much in… You’re too generous for your own good, Misha.”

He held himself for comfort, gazing into his reflected, distorted face in the well of the cup. He looked as though he had aged a thousand years, with tired eyes, cheerless lips, and deepened wrinkles. He stirred his tea, dispelling his grim reflection in favour of a dark, spinning swirl, creating an invitingly sweet aroma in the process, one that soothed his racing mind.

“How do you like tea?”

His guest, who had made himself at home at the dining table, looked up from his notes, his icy cobalt irises strikingly vivid against the maroon balaclava. “Black, thank you.”

He presented the cup on one of his prettier saucers, hoping it would be up to the other man’s standards – though he knew deep inside that it could never be, as told by the slight but unmistakably demeaning smirk on his lips. Misha took great care not to spill a single drop on the other man’s priceless suit, causing the ceramic to clink and clatter together, as if they too, were frightened of what was to come.

“Relax a little, mon ami.” He waved him off with a gloved hand, as if to dismiss his nerves from service. “I understand the nature of my profession is enough to make even a man like you nervous, but please, you have paid me handsomely. I have no intention of harming you, or insulting your tableware for that matter, though it is a touch garish.”

“I am not scared of you, little René.” He was well aware that wasn’t his real name – a man like him wouldn’t give away such valuable information willingly – but he used it to be polite. “I worry about what you found.” He explained, taking a seat opposite to him. The chair creaked under his weight, and he leaned over the table, resting his elbows on it. “You understand. I have been waiting every day for news about Joseph. Some things… I do not want to hear.”

“…You fear that he is dead.” The assassin said exactly what was on his mind without any care for sparing his feelings.

Misha gave a solemn nod, willing himself not to show the ache in his heart.

René reached into his coat pocket, popping open a cigarette case and placing a cigar between his lips with habitual finesse before remembering his manners. “Do you mind if I have a cigar?”

“Is okay.” Misha reassured, though he despised the smell.

He flicked open a lavish lighter, one with gold accents and a serpent carved into its body. The flame graced the tip of his cigar and the end glowed, releasing a proud puff of smoke. He inhaled, closing his eyes as he savoured the sensation, unwittingly drawing attention to his long lashes.

He exhaled with the dignity of a king and searched through a different pocket, this time procuring a black envelope with damask patterning. René peeled it open with ease, not tearing even an inch of the paper, revealing a neatly sorted collection of photographs inside, all of which had been numbered.

“In this envelope, I have included all of the evidence I have gathered thus far.” He plucked the first of many out and slid it over to Misha.

The Russian reluctantly scooped the polaroid up, swallowing down the horrid thoughts encircling his mind like opportunistic vultures. It was a snapshot of Joseph’s apartment, or more accurately, its rotten corpse. Books lied open, dishes remained dirty, the curtains wide open and food decomposing on the table. Small bugs had infested the room, feeding and breeding in the leftovers. He could only imagine the smell. Misha shuddered, unnerved by the picture.

In his minds eye, he could picture a body, grey and bloated, with fog laden blue eyes. He shook the image away, promising himself like he did every other damned day that Joseph was still alive and maybe even finding his way back home.

“Believe it or not, Misha, this is a good thing.” The assassin tried to reassure him, though coming from him, it sounded practiced, artificial, even.

“How? This is… very bad. Joseph is very neat man.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette and wordlessly handed him the next photograph.

A foul, cold pang rippled through his chest as he read the label, written in flowing cursive: Admirateur. The photograph focused on a tall vase of dead flowers in the entryway, something Joseph never bought, often regarding them as a waste of money. In the rows of dead, brown decay, a white card shone like a jewel, and he resisted the urge to snap the table in two and scream. Without prompting, he outstretched his palm to accept the following photo, which had masterfully captured the writing on the card.

Joseph,

The sickeningly sweet words of adoration crawled under his skin, their meanings too perverse to stand. The perfectly neat, evenly spaced letters only worsened the sick churn of his guts. Misha had seen neat handwriting in his time, but no person could write like this.

He swallowed thickly, feeling as though he was about to throw up. “Someone was buying him flowers?”

“Oh, more than just flowers.” René chuckled, oddly amused by this. “Seeing as you paid me so well, I did you the service of rifling through your friend’s garbage. His admirer bought him drinks, cards and even a few personalised sweets, things that were not necessarily a safe bet, but he knew he would like them. Do you see what I am getting at?”

“What is the point of this… secret admirer?” He cocked an eyebrow, failing to understand how this was a good thing.

“Misha,” He said in a haughty manner, almost scolding him for failing to connect the dots. “Joseph was being stalked by someone who was how shall I put it, madly and utterly in love with him. Almost as much as you are, non?”

Misha turned red up to the ears and chose not to respond to that.

“This is further corroborated by the evidence I discovered around the home.” He handed him several photos, one of an opened luggage bag full of clothes, including singlets, flannel shirts, overalls, shoes, thick work socks, and some gloves. “You may have noticed that these clothes are very unlike your friend’s choice of dress. They are also several sizes too small, suggesting we are dealing with a person of a short, stocky build, likely a man.”

The next showed another assortment of things, and at first, he cocked his head, puzzled. “What is this for? It is Joseph’s things.”

“Indeed, they are Joseph’s things.” René agreed. “But look carefully. His unwanted guest was hoarding them. I believe it was a compulsion of his, something he could not resist doing whenever there was an opportunity for it.”

“I don’t understand why this is important. Tell me what happened now, little man.”

René took another drag, chuckling to himself. “Patience, Misha. We are almost there. I would prefer that you have the full picture before we move on.”

He was handed several more pictures, this time of Joseph’s bedroom. The closet doors had been swung ajar, the bed unmade as if he had just gotten up and the wall phone hung from its slot, dangling from the cord and in the display were two numbers – an incomplete call. One picture was different to the rest, a close up of the wall and the carpet below, which had been stained a dark, purplish colour.

Blood.

He paled, forcefully turning the photograph over, in hopes of unseeing it, though he never would. He waited for the Frenchman to tell him the news he had been dreading for so very long now, bracing himself as though he was about to be shot.

But only a calm breath passed between them.

“I believe your friend was attacked in this room while attempting to call the authorities.” René leant over and tapped the shiny surface of the polaroid. “I assume that his admirer was discovered, and, in a panic, he resorted to attacking Joseph to keep him quiet.” His lashes fluttered, seamlessly remembering every detail. “Judging by the blood spatter, it was a single strike by a blunt object and not a particularly hard one, meaning our assailant did not intend to kill him.”

Misha realised that he had been holding his breath and he finally released it in a long, relieved exhale. “He is okay?”

“I cannot promise anything, but I have reason to believe that he is alive. Knocking your dear friend unconscious would be an excellent opportunity to abduct him, non?” He picked through the envelope, finding the next, but he hesitated, deciding not to give it to Misha just yet. “If it is any consolation, I have been hired for many situations like this and in my experience, this breed of delusional individuals are unlikely to kill the object of their obsession.”

“Unlikely…” Misha sipped at his drink, hoping the sweetness would help him to relax. “Is still possible?”

“In the rare cases where it does happen, they only kill their lovers if they refuse to play their role in their sickening fantasy.” He raised air quotes, his nose scrunching in disgust. “You said that your friend was—is an intelligent man, did you not? He would have learned to play along… eventually.”

“He is also very independent man.” Misha squeezed his hands together for emphasis. “He doesn’t like being told what to do, not even by me. Might be problem.”

The spy swished the tea in his cup, taking a modest sip. “I hope for his sake that he learned to behave.”

“Do you know where he took Joseph?”

“That,” René raised a finger. “I still need to find out.” His gaze softened, though it did not suit his angular, cruel face. “Don’t look so glum, I do have some good news.”

“You do?”

He fetched what looked to be a small stack of folded paper, tied together with a tasteful ribbon, almost like a gift. “Joseph originally thought that you were his secret admirer.” He handed the package to him. “He never quite finished his letters, but I think you will appreciate them nonetheless.”

He clutched the paper tightly, gently stroking the soft ribbon, its pristine surface appearing miniscule in his grasp. He wiped his eyes, not wanting to sob in front of him. He couldn’t muster the strength to read them now, not like this. He would wait until the dead of night, when his pillows were already soaked with his tears and his body trembling from the pain of it all. That way, it couldn’t hurt any more. Maybe then, Joseph’s sentimental words could wrap around him in the dark and heal his wounds.

“Thank you, René. This means very much.”

“Don’t thank me, you might just make me feel guilty for taking your money.” He snorted a little. “Ah, who am I kidding. I deserve it, especially after what I found.”

He fell for the other man’s bait, as obvious and prideful as it was. “What did you find?” He asked quickly, desperate to know.

“Look at this, it is… excellent.”

By now, the photographs in the envelope were running thin. A reproduction of a set of fingerprints was pressed into his palm, with each finger labelled in French.

“What is so good about fingerprints?” He scoffed, examining those belonging to the right hand first, some of which were incomplete or smudged.

He ended up eating those words as he looked to the prints from the left hand. His eyes widened and he brought the photo closer, examining the almost non-existent smears and marks, which only bore a few indents and scratch like patterns, He sputtered in Russian, in awe of this turn of good fortune.

To his surprise, René understood him. “You’re right, mon ami, your luck is astonishing. Mine, not so much, seeing as this cuts our business together rather short. In most cases I would be doing far more digging to whittle down our potential suspects, but I would say a prosthesis is rather unique, wouldn’t you?” He tapped the ash of his cigar into the saucer. “I have done my research and none of our existing consumer grade models come close to this. This one appears to be one of a kind.” He smirked. “On the back, I sketched what I believe our suspect’s prosthesis to look like, based on impressions, prints and what he used it for around the house.”

Misha froze entirely upon seeing the clean, tidy sketch, his mind cycling back to the last time he’d seen Joseph. At first, only silver eyes appeared to him, their gaze intense with bitter, burning jealousy. Then, he saw it – the newspaper, or more importantly, the advanced robotic hand effortlessly clasping it. He remembered it simply because he never seen anything like it, and of course, because he’d caught Joseph glancing at it.

“I met this man.” He breathed out, wishing he had only known. “I need his name.”

“Now this, I am proud of.” René grinned, straightening his tie. “He is an elusive little rodent, which is ironic because—”

“—His name.”

“Will you let me finish?” He hissed, glaring at him.

“Hurry.”

“As I was saying, it is ironic because he is a brilliant inventor.” He reclined in his seat and smiled, revealing the crow’s feet by his eyes. “He is the genius mind behind many of our modern appliances, tools, weapons and even our newest, most luxurious tech, such as my equipment.” He boastfully tapped his watch, showing it off. “He prefers to remain faceless, nameless. As far as the public is aware, he doesn’t even exist.”

René reminded him of a cat with the way he endlessly preened his own image. Misha sat back and endured it; his arms crossed with impatience.

“But you see, well placed coin does wonders to loosen the lips of even the most loyal men. It didn’t take long to find him with the right questions, and of course, the appropriate connections.” He snuffed out his cigar, marking the end of their time together for today. “His name is Dell Conagher. Remember it.”

Misha nodded, forcing himself to attach a name to the monster haunting his dreams, granting it even more power.

The assassin downed the last of his tea. “Ah… there is one last matter to resolve before I leave today, Misha, being my payment for how shall I put it… a thorough search for Joseph, seeing as we have established that he is likely still alive and the identity of his captor.” He rose from his seat, dusting off his suit with his hands. “Of course, I will assess whether or not a rescue will be possible.”

“And if not?”

“You know what happens.” He said coldly, his expression startlingly serious. “And it will not be cheap.”

Next Chapter

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into-the-daniverse · 2 years

Note

okay so i have a few so i'm gonna send two asks (rodrigo's crew vs meredith's crew): 1, 10, and G for rodrigo my beloathed; 13, 38, and H for jacqui love of my life; 13, 16, 22, 30, and 38 for my baby louis

I am kissing you directly on the mouth <3

Uncommon Questions for OCs/Creators

Rodrigo

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

He’s usually pretty good at entertaining himself, but if his normal distractions are nowhere to be found, and he has to sit still, he’s going to lose it after about a half hour. A part of him has to be moving at all times to keep himself sane.

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Promising his Mami that he’d stay inside and hidden during the attack on his village. It haunts him almost daily, and he is always wondering what, if anything, might have happened differently if he listened and stayed hidden.

G. What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

The fact that (in normal circumstances/universes) he’s so extremely possessive and jealous over the people he cares about. He’s capable of doing awful things just to make sure he doesn’t lose any of them, and would do almost anything - except, of course, actually talking to them and sharing his feelings.

The rest are under the cut!

Jacqui

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

He likes to stick to cool/jewel-toned colors like blues, greens, and purples, and while he does look Amazing in all of the above, he would also look great in warmer colors like yellow and red.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

A good memory that he revisits most often is the first time Keean told him that he loved him. Jacqui all but turned into a puddle of mush when that happened, and it’s a memory he revisits often when he’s having a bad day - and he most definitely cried about it the night it happened.

H. What trait do you admire most?

I admire his selflessness, and the way he puts others above himself always, but recognize that he often doesn’t know when to draw the line and that ends up causing just as many problems. But, when he is able to communicate, he always tries to work towards compromise.

Louis

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

He tends to stick with white, tan, and brown colored shirts, mostly because he doesn’t want to ruin anything more colorful while he’s working, but also because loud and vibrant colors can give him a headache (he avoids Rodrigo’s quarters as much as he can for this reason). He would probably look best in a baby blue, or even a light yellow, and the very few more “formal” shirts that he owns are in those colors, as he finds them soothing.

16. What makes their stomach turn?

As a doctor, he’s pretty much immune to blood, gore, vomit, etc, etc, and isn’t shocked easily, but he is very very grossed out by specific textures or smells. He can never be on dishwashing duty because touching wet food will make him queasy, and similarly, the smell of cilantro (he inherited the “cilantro tastes like soap” gene and Paulina weeps daily for him).

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Louis isn’t one to get jealous over anything, but if something bothers him, he tends to retreat into himself and talk out loud a lot less. He is usually the first to notice it in himself though, and he will always try to rationalize with himself first before bringing it up to the other person.

30. Who do they most regret meeting?

He both regrets and doesn’t regret meeting his former mentor, one of the Original Scholars at the Sea Palace. He regrets meeting them because he would have been better off not knowing what really goes down in the catacombs, and how the scholars largely obtain their knowledge, but at the same time, he doesn’t regret it, because he was able to use the knowledge he took from the Palace to help the people he cares about now.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

Meeting Dimitri’s sister, and his now best friend, Laila! She was very very shy when she first joined the crew, but the way her face lit up when she realized Louis could understand and talk to her in sign is something that he revisits often.

#ask tag #wistreeria #dani's pirates #rodrigo's crew #rodrigo #about rodrigo #jacqui #about jacqui #louis #about louis

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

please

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky needed to be spoiled.

word count: 1.2k

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! sub!bucky (more or less), handjob, mention of bodily fluids, praise!kink, language, cockwarming.

author notes: this isn't proofread, sorry for possible mistakes. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Oh, fu— fuck”.

A muffled moaning escaped his lips when your thumb caressed his reddened tip. Since Bucky woke you up some minutes ago, with curses and groans, you knew perfectly what he needed. Now he was sprawled between your legs and his back was stuck to your chest. The soldier tossed his head to your shoulder, having a better view of his tongue strongly licking his lips and his eyelids closed.

Your right hand pumped his most sensitive skin, up and down, at a medium pace. Enough to please him, but not to make him cum too soon. Bucky was stirring under your strokes, gripping his balls with his cold fingers as the flesh ones got tangled in your hair. Sometimes, he just needed to be touched. Touched by you, and no one else. Be treated with care and tenderness. The last mission had some complications and that took its toll.

“Does it feel good?” You whispered using a honeyed tone of voice into his ear.

“God… yes… so damn good, doll”. He replied as he could.

“You deserve it”. You hummed spreading sweet kisses on the connection of vibranium and skin.

Increasing the pace a little more just to tease him, Bucky responded with a soft growl, rubbing his abdomen with the palm of his free hand, slightly stretching back his head. His hard cock felt warmer with every move of your fingers around it, using some more pressure to give him an added pleasure. Bucky had to settle himself better against your chest, stealing the air from his lungs when you nailed your teeth in his neck. His digits got closed tighter in the back of your head, watching him trying to breathe through his parted lips.

James wasn't too loud while having sex, except in moments like those where your only purpose was to make him enjoy. He couldn't control his vocals, babbling your name with a wrecked tone. You used the tip of your tongue to draw a mark on his skin, sucking and hollowing your cheeks slightly. You loved to mark your territory, although those hickies never lasted longer than a day.

“Puts your hands on my thighs”. You ordered him, placing your legs over his to keep them wide open at any moment.

He obeyed with a soft pout, landing your free fingers on his balls to massage them slowly, contrary to how you were pumping his firm dick. Bucky would never recognize it, but he loved when you took control and told him what he should do. Tilting his head, he kissed you slowly, invading his mouth with your tongue as you felt his anxiety by digging his fingertips in the sides of your legs. Both were hungry for each other, jerking his length faster till earning again his moans and his curses.

Bucky looked like the most beautiful piece of art with the pearls of sweat decorating his forehead and some tufts of his black hair stuck on it. He bit his bottom lip fixing his pale blue eyes on yours, not needing words to express to you what you were making him feel.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you?” You purred against his lips, brushing them with yours. “My good boy”.

“Yes… I am”. Bucky whined when the pleasure started to be too much for his body.

“Of course you are, and you belong to me”. You spoke this time with a hoarse voice that gave him goosebumps, watching your boyfriend swallow. “Say it”.

“'M… you— yours, doll… only yours… I swear it”. His dick was twitching between your fingers, getting tensed as you squeezed his balls tighter. “Fu— Fuck… I need to… I need to cum…”

“Beg for it, my good boy”. You murmured, licking his parted lips with the tip of your tongue while slowing down the pace of your strokes, causing him to sob.

“Don' be… petty, doll… C'mon… C'mon, lemme cum, please”. Bucky growled in gasps, starting to rock his hips against your hand unconsciously.

He needed to release all the frustration running through his body. And he wanted you to help him with it. For you, it was a little funny how easy it was to make your big bad boyfriend plead. Although he hated you for it, trying to do his best to not push you apart and finish by himself.

“Baby, ple— please… Please…” Bucky moaned closing his eyes strongly, gripping your thighs with his huge hands. “God… I ca— can't wait… I can't…”

“You 'gonna disobey me?”

At the moment you replaced your left hand from his balls to his throat, forcing him to look at you again, his breathing became erratic, keen. His chest rose and fell furiously, not being able to control a single action of his anatomy.

“Please…” He begged you one last time, feeling all his blood concentrated in a concrete point of his cock and the knot within his low abdomen growing. “Doll… please.

“Cum for me. Now, James”. You commanded jerking him off faster than before, receiving a delighted cry from him.

Soon, the white ropes fell and stained his torso. His whole body was shaking, his Adam's apple was dancing under the palm of your hand still gripping his throat, the toes of his feet were curled and his abdomen was tense because of the orgasm exploding within him. Shutting up his vocals by devouring his mouth, your tongue fought his with dominance, while he was trying to breathe through his nose.

Collecting his arousal with your fingertips, you broke the kiss leaving him running out of air, sucking clean your digits under his attentive and exhausted gaze.

“Should be illegal to taste like that”. You purred giving him a whole show. “Wanna try it?”

“Please”. He mumbled leaning his head enough to lick your lips and suck the tip of your tongue. Bucky couldn't help but gasp at the savor of his jizz mixed with your saliva.

Not saying a single word, after placing one last kiss on his sweaty forehead, you stood up from your bed to go to the bathroom. Wetting a small towel with warm water, you came back to find your big soldier lying on his back and trying to recover. You kneeled on the mattress to clean first his face from the sweat, before continuing with his chest and abdomen and finishing with his —yet— twitching erection. Bucky sighed because of the careful caress, placing his hand made of vibranium on your back.

You tossed the towel somewhere over the floor, stripping yourself after that to lie by his side. “Come here…”

Using a sweet thread of voice, you urged him to turn and to let you embrace him. What he wasn't expecting was one of your hands to be snaked among your bodies, while you put a leg over his waist. Bucky understood your intentions when he was buried deep inside your soaked walls, sinking a more than pleased growl in your neck. He closed his arms around your body, forcing his cock to beyond your limits and holding it within your warm pussy.

“You're an angel, babydoll”. Bucky whimpered, feeling your walls clenching his sensible erection. “I love you… I love you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut

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satinsumu · 3 years

Text

favour. || oikawa t.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: MINORS DNI, f!reader, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, virginity loss, dirty talk, creampie

summary: your friend, the good samaritan oikawa, does you a favour by taking your virginity—a little too willingly.

a/n: written in one sitting on a whim and did not proofread lol please i loooove the first time trope

oikawa stares at you in disbelief, his warm, chocolate eyes wide and fixated on you.

“what?” you sigh, starting to regret casually mentioning that you’d never actually slept with anyone before. “why is that such a surprise to you? is it really such a bad thing?”

“no,” he quickly says, regathering his composure. “you’re just so cute, i’d expect a line of guys waiting to get at you.”

“they are,” you laugh teasingly, the sound causing his heart to flutter. “doesn’t mean i’d want to fuck them though—didn’t you tell me not to settle?”

“of course!” oikawa exclaims, a look of what appears to be slight relief washing across his face. “but you never got curious? just tried it even once?”

“it’s kind of scary,” you admit nonchalantly, never keeping secrets from your friend. “men are scary, honestly. you never know if they’re just gonna hit it and quit it.”

“yeah, your first time should definitely be with someone who cares about you,” he nods, throat feeling oddly dry.

you sigh in a way that says, i’ll-never-find-someone-like-that-so-why-even-bother?

oikawa licks his lips, and contemplates his next question.

“you always have me,” he chirps, a sickening sweet smile plastered across his face. “if you want your first time to be good, guaranteed.”

you want to smack him and tell him to stop joking, but the way your heart skips a beat tells you that this might just be all you ever wanted. and with the way he’s eagerly waiting your response, hiding behind the charming grin you know so well, you get a feeling that this could be something more than just a little favour he’s offering to do.

and that’s how you ended up in his room just one night later, the prettiest (but not overdone) lingerie set under your skirt and your hoodie as oikawa locks his door—not that he needs to.

he makes his way over to the side of his king-sized bed as you take a seat on the mattress, him towering over you with a casual smile on his face.

though, it feels like there’s something else to it. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the great oikawa tooru, breaker of hearts, was nervous.

“so!” he chirps, clapping his hands together as his eyes linger on your thighs pressed against the blankets for a second too long. “is there anything off-limits?”

“uh,” you think for a moment, interlocking your fingers. “no anal.”

“no problem,” he hums with a nod. “anything else?”

“not really,” you say, fidgeting in place. this is so weird. “i guess i’ll just tell you if something comes up.”

“okay,” he agrees, unzipping his jacket as he tosses it onto the chair beside his desk. “one more thing—are you on the pill?”

“yeah?” you answer, tilting your head at him, the gears in your mind turning just a bit more slowly than his.

“cool. just wondering,” oikawa chuckles, eyes glimmering at you.

and with that, he closes the remaining space between your faces, locking his lips with yours and taking you by surprise. your eyes flutter shut instinctively, although you gasp into his mouth at the gesture.

oikawa takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, swirling it around your own before biting your lower lip gently.

you pull away briefly, short of breath at the unexpected kiss, eyes displaying a mixture of shock and confusion, though not unhappiness.

“kissing is important,” oikawa shrugs, face glowing with a bit too much content.

he pulls you in by the nape of the neck once more, kissing you gently, but passionately. you slowly release the tension in your furrowed brows as you wrap an arm around his neck, unable to get enough of his minty breath, and the way he sucks at your tongue.

his hand slowly travels down from your cheek to the bottom of your hoodie, tugging at it once to gesture for you to let him take it off. you break the kiss for another moment as he hauls the article of clothing over your head, his eyebrow raising at the sight of you wearing nothing but a bra underneath.

“what’s the point in wearing a shirt if i’m just gonna take it off anyway?” you mumble, cheeks feeling hot under his gaze.

“you look pretty,” he beams at you.

you’re so flustered by his compliment—you two are just “friends,” after all—that you don’t notice the tent forming in his grey sweatpants.

before you can say anything in response, oikawa is crashing his lips against yours once more, this time with fervor, hunger, and desire. you struggle to keep up with the pace he’s set, occasionally panting in between kisses as he slips a hand into the cup of your bra.

you gasp at the contact, his hand slightly cold against your warm skin while he just smiles sweetly at you, gently pushing you down against his mattress by the shoulders. he leans back down to lock his lips with yours while still kneading your breast with one hand, the other pressed against the headboard above you. you don’t even noticed that he’s unclasped your bra and tossed it aside.

the area between your thighs begins to feel slightly warmer than before as you rub your legs together, taken aback by the sensation. oikawa pulls away from you for a second to take his shirt off, and you feel your heart lodge itself in your throat at the sight of his torso; his tan, muscular build is really something straight out of a magazine (literally).

“like what you see?” he smirks teasingly as you look away, but he uses one hand to turn your head back towards him. “eyes on me, baby.”

it’s in that moment you feel like you’re finally seeing the oikawa tooru that everyone else sees: the charismatic, experienced lady magnet that you’ve never even given the time of day.

a breath escapes you at the intimacy, but returns to your lungs in gasps once oikawa leans in to tower over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow above your head. he begins trailing kisses down from your lips to your jawline, to your neck and your chest, then to each breast as he takes one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

“o-oika—” you stutter, squirming at the sensitivity, but he doesn’t stop.

“call me tooru when we’re in bed,” he enunicates, swirling his wet tongue around the bud. he can’t help but smirk at how cute you look, all hot and bothered underneath him.

the sensation of his saliva against the tip of your skin makes your heart pound, and it’s almost hard to focus on which breast feels better when he’s kneading the other one with his large, strong hands.

you find yourself running your fingers through his hair as your eyes squeeze shut, the softness of his head oddly comforting as he continues to nip at your skin.

but the comfort doesn’t last for long.

you feel his lips leave your chest as they begin to travel further and further down, the trail of kisses left along your belly indicating exactly where he’s going. he hikes your skirt up to your waist with a flick of his wrist, marveling at the matching underwear you’re wearing beneath it.

“wow, just for me?” he coos, licking his lips. “i’m honoured.”

you wrack your brain for some sort of witty remark to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face, but he plunges his hand between your thighs and draws a long, slow line against the thin cloth over your cunt before you can say anything.

“o-oikawa!” you cry, flinging your head against his pillow at the shock he just sent through your body. it was sudden, but... pleasurable.

“i told you,” he murmurs, gazing at you with dark eyes. “call me tooru.”

his last sentence comes out like a threat once you feel his finger slide up and down your underwear faster, the contact against your folds driving you crazy. you feel the fabric grow slightly damp as it gets wetter with every teasing stroke of his hand, and you know he can feel it too.

“feel good, princess?” he chuckles, unable to tear his eyes off of your flustered face while you give him small nods, too embarrassed to look at him. he pushes the middle section of your panties to the side with ease and slides a finger into you slowly, your arousal making it smooth for him to do so.

“so diiiirty,” he hums at the way your breath hitches, and the way his digits squelch against your juices. “and all i’ve done is put a finger in you.”

“f-feels good, tooru,” you breathe, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. oikawa feels himself get much harder at your reassurance, pride swelling up in his chest.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

“it better,” he grins cheekily. he slips another finger into you, moving in and out with languid motions so you can feel every bit of him as he curls his fingers upwards.

you gasp at the way he seems to hit a spot inside you that feels a bit different than before, but whine once you feel him pull his fingers out.

“what’re you—ah!”

before you can finish your question, oikawa’s ducked his head between your legs, licking your juices up from your folds. he pulls the panties off of you before spreading your legs wide open and holding your thighs down firmly, the hem of your skirt resting gently against his head as he eats you out.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you pant, seeing stars in your eyes. you can’t believe oikawa tooru has his tongue in your cunt, licking up and down, teasing your clit like his life depends on it.

your hands grip the sheets in fistfuls as you stare at the ceiling, biting your bottom lip so hard you think it might bleed.

oikawa takes the small bud between your folds with his mouth and sucks, before dragging his tongue around it and licking your arousal off of your skin.

“mm,” he breathes into you, his voice muffled from below. “taste so... good...”

your juices are flowing onto his face as he laps it up relentlessly, his tongue sending spasms of pleasure through your body. a coil begins to build itself in your core, and you think you’re going to snap if he keeps going at this rate.

but the next second, the contact is gone.

“w-wait,” you whine, seeing oikawa get up from the edge of the bed.

oikawa doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement.

“don’t worry, i’ll let you cum tonight,” he reassures you, pulling down his sweatpants and revealing the huge bulge in his boxers. “just not with my mouth—not this time.”

your eyes widen at his size as he drags his remaining undergarments off, his cock springing out from beneath.

it looks big. and hard.

like it’s swollen, and intimidating. you’re not sure if the veins along the side or the overall size make you more uneasy.

although oikawa seems to get a nice little ego boost from expression as he chuckles, “it’ll fit.”

you’re reminded of how he immediately deprived you of pleasure just now, and pout at him.

“just hurry uuuuup.”

“didn’t take you for an impatient one,” he laughs, leaning over you as he plants one hand beside your head, and gives his aching member a few good pumps with the other. “are you ready?”

you give him a small nod, biting your lower lip as he presses the tip of his cock against your folds. you feel a little tingle from the contact as you wrap your arms around his neck, perhaps out of desire for some comfort.

he slowly slides himself into you, pausing to let you adjust to his size as you hold your breath, before bottoming out and stretching you wide open. you squeeze your eyes shut at the foreign sensation, though it’s not unpleasant.

“doing okay?” he murmurs in your ear, to which you give him a small nod, still practically hugging him to your body. “i’m gonna start moving.”

you feel the sides of his cock drag along your walls inch by inch as he slowly pulls out of you, until the throbbing tip is just barely in between your folds. then, without warning, he thrusts himself deep inside you.

“ah!” you cry out, clinging onto him for dear life, but never telling him to stop. it feels good being clenched around him, your bodies so close together and fitting within each other like puzzle pieces.

“fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “you’re so damn tight.”

he slides himself out of you again and repeats the action, slowly gathering more speed until he’s really fucking you at a set tempo.

you feel his hips snap against yours as he pulls himself in and out of you at a rapid pace, the mild discomfort slowly turning into pleasure.

“t-o-o-ru,” you gasp, your words split up with each of his thrusts into your body as you dig your nails into his skin.

“right here, baby,” he grunts, rutting into you with continuous force. “that feel good?”

“y-yeah,” you pant in his ear as he grips the headboard tightly, not giving a damn if the neighbours can hear the wood knocking against their wall. “f-feels so, ngh! good!”

“you’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, pulling out and slamming his throbbing cock back inside you, watching your body move back and forth on the bed with every one of his motions. “and you take my cock so well.”

he slides himself out of you briefly as you blink at the loss of contact, barely able to process what’s happening before he flips your body over.

“get on all fours,” he orders, with surprising authority—and need.

“i thought i said no anal,” you remark, though already getting into the position he wanted.

“relax,” oikawa smiles at you, tracing a finger slowly down your spine and onto your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze that sends tingles through your body.

your body twitches once you feel him rub the head of his cock against your folds, still wet from your arousal. he inserts himself back into your aching cunt that was tired of clenching around nothing, a new wave of pleasure washing over you.

“a-ah...” you moan, tossing your head back at the new sensation. you back yourself into him as you feel oikawa put both of his large hands on your body, gripping your waist.

and once he starts to move, you know it won’t be long before you cum.

he’s thrusting himself into you mercilessly now, his cock so deep inside of your wet cunt that you feel like he’s literally rearranging your guts.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts with each snap of his hips. “doing so good.”

the pleasure is overwhelming as he hits a spot inside you that you didn’t even know could feel this way.

“tooru!” you cry, tears brimming your eyes at how hard he’s slamming his dick inside you, overcome with how fucking good it feels. “d-don’t stop.”

“i won’t until you cum,” he growls in your ear, leaning over so his chest is pressed against your sweaty back. “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

you nod furiously as you bite your lip, small dribbles of saliva leaking out of your mouth at how good he’s fucking you. god, you look so angelic, wearing nothing but a tiny skirt, ass perked up just for him while he rails you into tomorrow.

“g-gonna cum,” you whimper at the same familiar coil building in your core from earlier as oikawa thrusts faster and faster, your tits bouncing back and forth as they hang above the mattress.

“cum for me, princess,” oikawa grates, barely holding onto his own orgasm with how tight you are around him. “taking my cock so well, letting me fuck you so good.”

“tooru-ah! tooru!” your cries of his name fill the room with the lewd slapping sounds of his balls against your ass, the unbelievable speed he’s ramming into you at on the cusp of desperation.

“let me see you fucking cum,” he curses, moving one hand between your thighs to play with your sensitive clit. the pleasure sears through your body as your vision grows slightly hazy from the stimulation. “cum on my cock, baby.”

“w-want you to cum inside,” you breathe, not sure of how much you can last longer. you don’t need to ask twice as he rubs fast circles with his slender fingers against your clit, cock still thrusting in and out of you with incomparable speed. “a-ah! t-tooru, i’m gonna c-cum!”

you feel the coil inside you snap as your walls clamp down against his cock, your juices flowing out of your cunt and down your thighs as oikawa continues grinding against you.

“f-fuck,” he curses, giving you one last, deep, hard thrust as you feel the tip of his cock touch your cervix, groaning as he chases his own orgasm right after yours. he’s still hugging you close to his body as you feel his warm seed spill inside you, the white fluids trickling onto the bed sheets in a mixture with your own.

you’re gasping, out of breath as oikawa pulls himself out of you, the two of you flopping onto the bed together. you lay in the quiet of each other’s pants, staring at the ceiling.

frankly, you’re still in a bit of disbelief over what just happened—you just let oikawa tooru, your friend, fuck you on his bed and take your virginity.

he made you cum. and made you beg for him—willingly.

“how’d it feel?” oikawa asks after a few seconds, breaking the silence with his familiar smile.

“good,” you admit with a giggle as oikawa turns his head to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wanna go again?”

#fic #oikawa.fic

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Okay so! For the one you wanted nsfw for

This, and Fugitive predator.

Because he’d hug them and go,” alright ooman. Thats all the affection you’ll need for two years.” But the human is like, “OOH???? Oh????????” And just. Goes wild. Lol i hope that makes sense

(And if not thats fine, I just love fugitive)

I hope you like this!

Asshole.

Fugitive x reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

"You know, not everyone is as tall as you. Slow down!" By now, I definitely must be annoying the yautja stalking ahead of me, his steps becoming faster as he tries to decrease the time we have to spend together.

In way of response, Fugitive brings his hand down on a branch, causing it to flick back and slap me across the torso. Grunting, I stagger backwards, hand grasping at the front of my gear as the air is knocked from my lungs. Up ahead, I can hear the predator let out an amused series of clicks and growls, his head turning to take in my discomfort, to which I flip him off, not that he knows the meaning of the gesture.

"Asshole." I grumble, straightening after checking the gauntlet on my wrist for any damage caused by the branch. Thankfully, the vital data all reads normal.

"Asshole!" Fugitive mimics, voice twisted and garbled as he imitates me.

Scowling, I keep quiet, falling into step behind the tall yautja as I do so, looking out for the odd mess of plants native to this particular planet, trying to avoid the ones I know to be dangerous. My clothing will protect me, I know, but it still pays to be careful: I've known people who get caught unawares by the nature of foreign planets. Generally they never last long in this profession. Hunters, particularly those who like to keep up with their alien competitors, need to be swift, clever and precise, it doesn't do to be clumsy.

Sighing, I swat away a smaller branch, once again glad for the presence of my helmet as it swings back and catches me round the back of my head, drawing a curse from me. Internally, I'm praying that this leg of the hunt won't last too much longer, as Fugitive and I really don't get along too well. Something just never quite clicked with us, so this decision to group us off together made by the others in the party has been a particularly unpleasant one for us - and not very successful, either. Neither of us have caught anything today, a fact we'll both keep quiet if nothing changes.

It's sweltering in this jungle, my brow and body drenched in sweat from the sheer heat, making for a very uncomfortable hike through the tough terrain. Naturally, Fugitive doesn't have a problem with this, given his species' particular preference for warmer climates, striding ahead with ease as he stealthily moves through the foliage, dreadlocks swinging with each move of his head. Even with his armour strapped in place he doesn't seem to be affected by the heat, nothing in his movements betraying any possible discomfort. Watching him now, I have to begrudgingly admire the fluidity of his actions, eyeing the flex of his rippling muscles and sinuous limbs, everything about him calculated and careful, clearly on the alert for prey.

Unfortunately, I have a bad feeling that we won't find any prey today, which means the yautja is not going to be happy.

Being so deep in my thoughts, I don't notice the ground suddenly give way to a cliff until my foot swings precariously over the edge. Shocked, I allow a sharp sound of surprise to escape me, reeling back from the edge before I fall to the ground, far below.

Glancing up at the predator beside me, I lift an eyebrow before speaking.

"What do we do now?" I ask him, chewing my lip as I observe the surroundings: I can't see any way of getting down safely.

Fugitive clicks his mandibles beneath his helmet, sounding as if he's stating the obvious.

"I can't understand you." I clarify, resisting the temptation to roll my eyes.

With what can only be described as an audible sigh, the yautja takes a step back from the edge, before he suddenly pitches himself off of it.

Frowning in shock, I scramble back to the edge, a cold bolt of fear going through me at the thought that he may not have made the jump down safely.

Of course, he's standing at the bottom, looking up at me expectantly, perfectly fine.

Huffing in frustration, I glare down at him.

"How do you propose I get down?" I call down to him, gesturing to the steep drop.

He makes a beckoning gesture, arms outstretched. Immediately, I know what he means, my heart dropping in my chest at the distance between us, my mind refusing to believe he means what I think he means.

"No! No! That'll kill me!" I shout back at him, shaking my head furiously.

Clearly exasperated, Fugitive tries again, gesturing more fervently now.

"No!" I yell down at him, scowling.

The yautja nods, roaring up to me to reassure me as he widens his stance, arms out and ready to catch me. Watching him, I feel an odd sense of trust well up in me, so I curse myself and line myself up with the cliff, getting inline with Fugitive's position on the ground below. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself, before I take a few steps and leap from the edge of the cliff, my body feeling weightless as the ground falls away from me.

Fighting the urge to scream, I allow my arms to flail to slow my descent, hoping to hell I didn't misinterpret his instruction. Adrenaline courses through me, each nerve in my body on fire as I hurtle through the air towards the ground, quickly picking up speed as I go.

Just as I start to think he won't get me, Fugitive steps forwards, arms ready to snatch me from the air, which he does efficiently, pulling me into him to secure me. Instinctively, my arms go around his neck, legs closing around his waist, my body pressed flush to his.

For a moment, I have to recover, my breathing rough and heavy as I catch it again, body heaving in the yautja's grip. He makes no move to put me down just yet, keeping his hands where they are: clamped around my hips and ass, squeezing lightly. I can't see his expression behind his mask, but I can guess it, even as a conflicted ripple of awkwardness floods through me, my body screaming at me to stay in the warm circle of his embrace, whilst my head is yelling at me to get out before I make things worse. His body heat seeps through my clothes into me, making it difficult to focus until he finally puts me back down again, hands lingering on my body.

Blushing, I look away, almost wishing we could continue the embrace, though I know it will most likely never be spoken of again. Already, Fugitive has moved off, acknowledging my thanks as I call after him, cleafly not thinking too much of the embrace except that it was necedsary to my survival. I can't stop the lurid thoughts swirling through my head as I chase after him, biting them back as I catch up again, falling into step beside him.

"Not so invulnerable, then, hm?" I comment after a few more minutes, laughing nervously at my own words.

I don't get time to laugh properly as I suddenly find myself pinned to a tree, a leg shoved between mine to keep me up. Eyes wide, I lift a hand to grasp at the arms holding me in place, ashamed of the fact I can feel desire starting to flood my system at his closeness and roughness.

"Don't call me that." The predator almost snarls at me, the sound sending bolts of need through me, despite the awkward nature of them.

Dumbly, I nod at him, trying to ignore my body's reaction to the proximity of the yautja, not quite recovering properly until he's dropped me back down again.

Watching him stalk off into the jungle again, I feel a change in mindset about him, a new need to be near him coming to life as I run after him.

#predator #yautja #yautja x reader #Fugitive x reader #Fugitive #Fugitive predator #predators #Fugitive imagine

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