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peterfankoffski · 5 months

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Lautski Week - Day 1 (Blue)

You know the au where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate? Yeah.

Teddy had said that school wouldn't be so bad go raise some hell. Whatever that meant. And even if there were any capability of that, Pete probably didn’t have it. The idea of actually going to school with people was already scary, and the principal deciding he was smart enough to go straight into the first grade with the big kids made it worse. Everyone was going to be taller and probably meaner. He’d never deal.

The drab hall lying ahead of him went on forever and ever, or so it would seem if he didn’t at least have shadows and the room numbers to rely on. So he watched carefully for room 12. That’s where the first grade class was.

He wondered how many of the adults or even way older kids saw things way more clearly. After all, they’d be old enough to date, right? And that would mean finding a soulmate. And when people meet their soulmate for the first time, they’re able to see colors. Teddy was able to see color for a few years, before Jenny disappeared. He didn’t speak on it much. But once when Pete asked what colors actually were, Teddy had said they made things so much brighter.

Pete found room 12 eventually, though. He opened the big creaky door and walked around, scanning for the desk with his name on it. All the desks were grouped in clusters of four. Three girls were already sitting at his. One of them said “hi” to him as he approached. As soon as he sat though, something in his vision shifted. The best way he could describe it was a splash, as if the change literally rolled down like the way small waves rippled in the lake if you threw a rock into it. And then everything was different. More diverse in a way he could have never imagined before. Maybe brighter.

Oh. Oh my gosh, he thought. Are these colors?

Pete briefly glanced at the girl who’d said hi before he sensed a strange spark and looked down again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light, cool hue on her dress. He looked up and out the window. The sky was the same shade.

Pete quickly decided that this color was his favorite.

“What color is the sky?” Pete asked on the drive back to his parents’ house.

Teddy had picked him up. Pete noticed his car was the same color as the sky and his classmate’s dress.

“Blue,” Teddy said. “...why?”

“I think I see colors now.”

Pete knew of course, just how young he was compared to other people when it happens to them, but he didn’t fully grasp the weight until Ted pulled over at the nearest public parking lot to ask him about it, and if he was sure, and did he know who it was, and what does he think of color anyway?

Pete was fairly sure, and he didn’t fully know really because three people were at his desk group, and colors were so beautiful. He never would have imagined it was to this extent.

Pete shut his locker, already so ready to just get to lunch. If he did, that would be the day’s halfway point, and after enough taunts from Jagerman, he was more than ready to go to Beanie’s like every other day.

Sitting comfortably in his place in the woodshop, Pete went over the sketch of the third stupid bird house he’d be making this year. Hey, Mr. Houston never told him to stop making them, and it was a bit more complex than two separate cutting boards, and since he was here to learn different techniques (even if Mr. Houson almost always gave an A anyway), then he was making progress.

Steph Lauter sat next to him. She’d been speaking to him more and more this year. And every time, it seemed less and less like a prank.

Until today, anyway.

“So,” she said nonchalantly, “Can you see the colors?”

His mind suddenly reeled. No one had ever asked him that. It really wouldn’t matter to anyone else anyway. He knew his soulmate had to be someone in his grade, of course, but who would want to be stuck with him? He truly felt bad for his soulmate, knowing they’d likely be cooler in every capacity.

Especially Steph.

So why was she asking him?

But Pete nodded. “Y–Yeah. I can. Since I was a kid.”

“So you’ve met your soulmate, then?”

“Logically, yes.” Pete looked down, trying to concentrate on his work. “Didn’t ever figure out who it is, though. Someone in our grade, that’s all I know.”

Sometimes part of him hoped it was her given how fluttery his mind could get when she spoke to him. Then he’d always remember, he was a loser, and she was Stephanie Lauter. What kind of match made in heaven would that be? Maybe yet another prank pulled on him, this one by the universe itself.

He eventually spoke up again “...can you?”

“See color?”

He nodded. She did too.

“Cool,” he said quietly. “...do you know who yours is?”

“Nah,” she said. She looked at him, smiling. “But I’ve got a good guess.”

Pete could feel himself going warm. He wrote and rewrote his measurements for his draft even more furiously. But he couldn’t ignore her forever. He sighed.

“Y’know something?” he said. “One of the first things I saw after it happened was this dress you were wearing, because we were in the same class. It was blue. Then when I saw the sky I thought to myself, ‘if anything can be the same color as where outer space is, it must be good.’ Blue’s been my favorite color ever since.”

She stared at him, still grinning fondly. “Pretty clever for a kid, huh?”

He shrugged. “I still think it’s the prettiest anyway.”

The conversation started to fade there. The implications did not take much a further hold in Pete’s mind. It wouldn’t matter forever. Soon enough the universe would give him another chance to make it click for Pete, just how much that day in school when she wore the blue dress mattered to Steph, too.

#team starkid #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lautski #lautski week #peter spankoffski #pete spankoffski #steph lauter #stephanie lauter #npmd #nightmare time #em writes fic #soulmate au

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 4 months

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Darkness Lane by Joan Hassall [ x ] - the piece that most inspired my recent woodcut-style piece.

When I found out I was drawing for @gorgeousundertow's regency AU fic, Half Agony, Half Hope, as part of the @ineffableidiotsbigbang, I started looking up Jane Austen novel illustrations for inspiration and ended up finding some really cool art and websites! I'm posting about some of the images and resources I found because I think it may be interesting to others too (and even if it isn't, I'll have gotten the infodump out of my system haha).

Illustrations from Mansfield Park by Joan Hassall [ x ]

The link above points to a gallery on pemberley.com which has deliciously old-school DIY website HTML and a wealth of Jane Austen illustrations, as well as references for regency clothing. This was where I discovered Joan Hassall's work and decided I wanted to do a woodcut style piece (and then subsequently regretted it many times during the process of making it because I had no idea what I was doing). The detail, visual texture and dramatic lighting in her work is so cool and I just got more obsessed the more I saw.

See more Joan Hassall on tumblr via @uwmspeccoll (a very cool account!) here, here, and here.

The gallery on pemberley.com also had a bunch of Charles Edmund Brock illustrations, which I could not get enough of and so returned to the searchpage and found Molland's Circulating-Library. SO COOL! Jane Austen fans have bought illustrated editions of her novels and uploaded scans of them and oh my gosh they are all so beautiful.

Northanger Abbey watercolour illustrations by C.E. Brock [ x ]

Side note about Henry Tilney (Catherines' love interest in NA), I also came across this old fan page for him from a mostly-broken-links-now site called THE CULT OF DA MAN and um it's great haha, check it out. (reviews of artists representations of him, more delicious HTML, and pixel art (!) of da aforementioned man)

There's also an article on Molland's about Charles and Henry Brock and their Jane Austen works that I found interesting. Charles is better known and did far more JA illustrations, but I do really enjoy Henry's tinted line pieces! (the article also dunks on some bad reproductions of them haha)

Pride & Prejudice tinted line illustrations by H.M. Brock [ x ]

C.E. Brock also did really cool title pages and when I found out that fic banners were a thing I knew what I wanted to do! (with the help of the symmetry tool and undo haha, so much respect for traditional art)

Title pages illustrated by C.E. Brock [ x ] and my banner - the banner design uses elements of both of the Brock images.

So, research in hand/bookmarks folder and banner completed, I decided on a scene from Chapter 10 where our beloveds are standing beside the Thames in the moonlight after walking around London for hours together and talking (CUTE). I wasn't sure what buildings to include in the background, so @gorgeousundertow gave me a few suggestions: Old Southwark Bridge, London Bridge, Southwark Cathedral, and Clink Prison. I realized after a bit of sketching that bridges would be hard to show with the straight-on view I wanted to do, so I decided on the Cathedral, partially because I had also considered drawing a scene that takes place in Salisbury Cathedral in Ch. 7.

OK BUT HOW? I struggled finding reference images for a while until I realized this was LONDON and would be very Google Earth-able. Big ups to Frank Cosgrove, whoever they are, for uploading this haha. This was also where I found out that all the suggestions were from a very small area!

View of Borough High Street, London, 1830, by George Scharf [ x ]

The building in front of the cathedral looked too new, so I went searching for an older image and found the second image. It's a completely different angle but it was enough to get me past the 'oh no idk what do'.

the much brighter concept vs the much darker finished product, featuring a barely-visible Southwark Cathedral

While looking for images of the Thames pre-Google Earth, I also found this website called Dictionary Of Victorian London which has a whole bunch of old images and excerpts from newspapers, etc on a variety of topics. One of the categories, Sex > 'unnatural offences', had this excerpt from The Times (1863), which reads:

Thomas Lane, a coffeehouse keeper, No.9, Love-lane, Eastcheap, city, and James Mortimer, a seaman, were charged with unlawfully meeting each other to commit an unnatural offence. ... The Magistrate committed both prisoners for trial.

Ugh. I hate that so much. Some sexy stuff happens right after the moment I'd chosen, and reading that reminded me that such things would be much more comfortable and safe in darkness (or if ppl just stopped being homophobic, but barring that). I wanted them to feel alone, like the whole world was asleep and it was just them, outside of time.

With that in mind, the iconic Thames Walk Lamp had to go bye bye, and when rendering the background I tried to minimize any light - it's just the suggestion of buildings. I also added tree cover! I tried to imitate how Joan Hassall does trees in some of her artwork, but when she rendered trees like this they were usually farther away/smaller, so my version looks more stylized with how prominent they are.

The ribbon border and book quote presentation is of course more Brock, but by making it black and having the interior image use it as a border instead of a fade-out inside it, I made it a bit of a reference to the very cool foliage edges you see in the very first Hassall image at the top.

I used the procreate brushes from this post on the Procreate Folio forums if anyone wants to try them!

Also fun fact! The font for the quote is called Chanson D'Amour <3 (I initially downloaded it when making the banner before changing the banner font to one called Dark & Black)

------

That's all I have to say about the process for the piece, but here's a comic from Dictionary Of Victorian London, Thames > Sanitary condition that I thought was cute (and gross ig? but also cute):

a Punch comic from 1850, I can't link the page due to how the website URL system works but it's from the Thames > Sanitary condition page

#lol anyway back to reading fanfiction from the bang!#joan hassall #charles edmund brock #henry matthew brock #art process #eccles makes #ineffable idiots big bang #jane austen #illustration

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b0und4gl0ry · 1 month

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...alrighty I'm home again.

The date went well, (kinda expected since its not our first) and I forgot to mention I watched the other videos you've recorded before I found your account too. Listen, I know you said "no secrets" and all, but are you really being honest, Casey? I don't want to dig too hard... But if it's how you said, why did you say their their name like you were surprised to see them while you tried to sleep? It's definitely faint but you can hear it in the recording. (Also remember to turn off the recording next time unless you want to bloat the hard drive of your laptop with a single video file. you probably don't want to rely on whatever horrific things haunt your sleep to wake you up so you can turn it off.)

Anyways, onto that story;

So, like, a year or so ago. I was sleeping. And suddenly, I had a good old case of sleep paralysis, It was actually pretty common with me, I have it all the time. The normal stuff, hat men, pitch black shadow people, ect.

This event was like the rest of my sleep paralysis experiences, except, no Shadows, voices, or anything. Tried moving to check if I just woke up for no reason. But I couldn't.

Eventually. Something came up to my window. (On the fifth story.) It was pitch black, (which I later found out was a very, very deep shade of red.) It had super long hair, looked kinda like a cats head with droopy ears in kinda a ^ shape, 4 smaller eyes that scanned the room, frantically? And one large eye that was staring directly at me, all with pitch black pupils.

I'll reblog this with a sketch of what it looks like if I can.

It raised up a long, bony arm. And I hear a chattering noise. It points at the door to my room.

But.

But then I realized I could move again.

The creature made another sound, and I noticed the door to my rooms doorknob was rapidly being turned, and then it was getting pounded like a fucking horror movie. The door slowly was being unlocked somehow?? The lock on it was being turned. At this point i glanced at the thing again and it was just looking at the door now with all its eyes. I got up and held the lock and the door closed. After what felt like an hour of banging and something trying to get in, it stopped.

I looked at the window again.

Nothing was there.

I went back to sleep eventually, I didn't have a dream after.

I occasionally see that thing now. One time when I went hiking at night, a few times again when I'm all by myself.

Sorry if this was long winded or unwanted or something. But I think it's an interesting story. I think I'm still here because of that thing. I haven't fully committed to a name for it yet, so I'm open for suggestions. But I'm primarily I'm calling it Lefty because the big eye is on the "left side" of it's face.

- Stace T.

"Yeah, those "Mae" nightmares are the worst. I just get shocked that I see her and hear her. I don't know why I'm having them…is it my guilt about leaving? Paranoia? I don't know.

"But Mae…she's a good friend from my old hometown. She's done nothing wrong"

"Also, that's a sick ass story. Wild as shit, but cool. I could see a novel about a person dealing with their strange cat demon"

"Nice to see we have similar shit going on. Continue these stories if you want"

"But, what I think is more likely is you had one of those "awake but not" dreams. Where you wake up but you're still dreaming. I have those a bunch"

"Also, I'm glad your date went well. Sorry, it kinda took a seat behind all the spooky shit"

"Also, that's a sick ass story. Wild as shit, but cool. I could see a novel about a person dealing with their strange cat demon"

"Nice to see we have similar shit going on. Continue these stories if you want"

(ooc: I'm not sure how familiar Stace is with the source material this AU is from, which is Night In The Woods, but to anyone who doesn't know too much about it, I highly recommend it! It clears things up about Casey a little...I don't know if that comes off condescending or not. I'm not good with communicating sometimes)

#casey hartley #night in the woods #nitw fanart #anthro art #b4gdraws #furry #nitw #nitw casey #anthro #ask #my art #digital art #art #b4gresponds #blog lore #Stace Anon #< stace anon...very cool dude /gen

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fionacle · 8 months

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Hey, would anyone want me to edit/continue this? Old story I was writing, Sanders Sides fanfiction actually, but I changed the names. It’s obvious who’s who anyway. Mermaid AU. Story under the cut.

I turn my vehicle up the stone path of the orange-tinted mountain, looking over the edge at the horizon. The sun is starting to creep below the sea’s edge, painting the sky in yellow, red, and pink. The view of the glistening water widens as I reach the top and breathe a sigh of relief. I come up here often to sing, rehearse scripts for my plays, write shows and stories of my own, or paint and sketch the scene before me without disturbing my neighbors. In all of the time I’ve come here between shows, it hasn’t changed a bit.

I unlock the car door and step out onto the warm rock. The sun instantly hits my skin and I wave my usual hello to the glowing orb. It’s crazy how homey and inviting this place feels to me. It’s nothing special, and yet special is exactly the word I’d use to describe it. This is the closest thing to magic I’ve ever seen, every little thing about it casts an enrapturing spell on me.

This area is enchanting in more ways than just feeling and looking cool and serene. It sounds crazy but every time I turn to leave, something makes me hesitate. I can hear the sound of people calling out from the water. It’s likely my imagination, but my gut tells me there’s something out there. I just don’t know what.

I walk away from my car and my feet land about a foot from the edge of the cliff. A faint breeze blows my hair out of my face and I close my eyes and welcome it with a smile. Once it passes by, my eyes shoot open in response to a splash from below. I thought all the fish swam farther down and closer to the center? I take another step forward and see another splash, definitely too big to be a fish.

I step closer to the edge again and get down on one knee so I can see better. These three miles above the water, it’s pretty hard to tell what I’m seeing. There’s some blurry colors moving around just beneath my he surface. Then the unbelievable happens, a human head pops up with an enthusiastic grin and sticks their arm out to wave. He has messy blond hair and pale skin.

I muster a half-smile and wave back, too astonished to do anything more. He makes a hand motion in my direction and one-by-one three more heads pop up. One has black hair that’s more tame than the first and slightly darker skin. Another has dark brown hair and olive skin. The last one has purple hair and, considering he’s in the water, surprisingly dark eyeshadow. How did these people manage to swim so far out from the shore?!

The first one pipes up, “I notice you come by here a lot! I hope you don’t mind that we watched, but you’re really good at theater and art!” His voice is cheerful and light. As friendly as the approach is, I can’t voice a reply. Instead, my eyes dart quickly between the four, scanning their faces for any sign of trickery. The angsty purple guy notices my apprehension and sighs, “A bit freaky to think you weren’t alone all that time you were dancing on the rock like a dork. I promise we don’t have any bad intentions, though,” he rubs his neck anxiously, “We just don’t have much else to do.”

There are so many questions running through my mind. How and why are they here? How are their glasses and makeup staying on? Why have I never seen them before? How long have they been watching me? Were my performances really that bad? Honestly that question seems like the most-

I suddenly hear a car door slam and my head and shoulders shoot up in shock, “So THIS is where you’ve been running off to, James!” That impish voice confirms that this interruption is courtesy of my brother, Luis. His green hair bounces through the air and his knee-high black boots collide rhythmically with the floor as he strolls over to my side, “I have to admit, it’s pretty beautiful.” I glance to see that his face is unusually mellow and relaxed. At this, I can’t help but smile, genuinely this time, “That’s only half the appeal.”

I look back down where the mysterious men were, but to my disappointment, most of them don’t appear pleased with the new visitor as they dip back underwater. Wait... underwater? How did I not notice how long they must have been holding their breath until now?! The blond one gives a quick wink and dives under as well, only he swims quickly back up to breach the water, showcasing a glittering light-blue tail in the process.

I place a hand to the ground to quickly push myself up and begin mentally calculating the risk of diving in. Luis takes notice of my scrunched-up concentrated face and cocks his head. “If I feel like I have to do something crazy, do you think it’s worth the risk?” He chuckles, “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” “Right...” I nervously take a few steps back and he raises an eyebrow.

A shaky breath finalizes my decision. I’m gonna jump in. I thrust a foot up from the ground and slowly pick up a fast pace towards the end of the bluff. Luis finally notices what I’m doing and steps in the way, but I can’t stop now. Not when there are mer-people just waiting for me to take the leap into their world!

And so, I jump off, pulling my twin with me. As my body leaves the ground, I grab his torso tightly and he returns the gesture. The wind is blowing all around us, but not as fast as my heart is racing. He looks shocked that I’d actually go through with something like this, possibly as much as he is amused by the situation. The water is getting closer by the second, just as relentlessly as my hair is hitting my face. Our momentum builds up rapidly and the sky flies past in a blur, so much faster than I could have imagined.

I hug my brother tighter than I’ve hugged anyone before and inaudibly scream my lungs out, taking one last look at his face that now shows more fear than anything else. My eyes shut tight and I inhale a great gulp of air, waiting for this stupid in-the-moment decision to either bring us new friends, or death.

...We hit the water. Since we just slapped the surface of the sea with the force of two grown men, it makes sense for it to be returned with an intense burning sensation making my whole body ache. All the air is knocked out of my lungs and the strength from my arms is no more. Luis’s grasp barely falters, however, as he’s a bit of a demented dare-devil who does this sort of thing for fun. He may be strange, but at a time like this, I’m glad to have a brother like him. The important thing is we’re alive, we made it and all our previous surroundings are replaced by the blue of the ocean.

After a moment for recovery, he adjusts his arms so he’s holding my weak figure in one, and has the other free to propel us to the top. I don’t know how far we are from getting out when I see the four men approaching in the distance. Before I can respond to them, alert Luis, or anything... the world goes dark. I stop struggling, I give in to the feeling of being held by loving family and the pull of the liquid surrounding me. My eyes close and my body goes limp in the panicking man‘s grasp.

๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑·๑

I awake with a terrible headache and aching joints. I’m sore from head to toe and it feels like the world is spinning in circles. My muscles barely have the will to move, but I force my eyes open. The choice doesn’t let me down as I'm met with a more beautiful sight than the mountain and skyline I've admired for years.

Everything is surrounded by an endless sea that’s giving off a dark blue hue with hints of teal and purple dancing through it. Many of the plants and animals hold very warm tones that contrast greatly with their background. Viridescent seaweed almost appears to be waving to the bright coral as neon fish swim through it. The lime green sea grass is bent over like it’s being blown by a strong wing. There’s a school of herring forming a a wall as they pass by. A turtle pushes the water out of its way with its flippers and soars through it. A few bubbles float up from the mouth of a butterflyfish, and I remember something important.

Those are bubbles of oxygen, a gas I kinda need to live. Thing is, humans typically can’t inhale the air at the bottom of the ocean. Sounds basic, right? Well I’m an idiot. I puff out my cheeks and hold my breath, suddenly realizing I had to have been breathing fine just a moment ago to have any breath at all! The pain vanishes almost instantly as I'm overcome with wonder. Since when can I breathe underwater?

I heard fish breath with gills, so how is that possible when I only have lungs? ...or do I? I lift my arms to my neck and feel thin slits along the sides. Gross, but cool! I inhale through my mouth and water runs past and through the holes, oxygen presumably being collected to fill my lungs in the process.

Looking down, I can see another big surprise. A bright red fish tail has replaced my legs. It’s covered in sparkling scales that become smaller the higher you look until they fade into my waist. I strain my lower body muscles a bit and it curls upward. The end of it has a fin that’s thinner, lighter, and more transparent. There’s no doubt I look awesome. The question is, where did these come from?

I can't not try to discover more about the mysterious additions to my body and this world under the sea, so I attempt to sit up. Unfortunately, it seems I'm too weak to lift my weight, even with the pounds the water takes away, and I crumple back down on whatever it is I'm lying on. Someone must have been behind me and seen me move because u hear a gasp, "He's awake!" I hear splashing and indistinct murmurs as a few people shuffle to my side. Hoping and praying to see Luis or some other familiar face, I slowly turn my head. To my delight, it's him smiling along with the people I saw earlier. I see now that the black-haired one has a dark blue tail, the emo has a purple tail, and the other one has a yellow tail. Luis appears to have grown a green tail as well.

I push up from the thing below me once more but this time, just as my elbows are about to give out again, five pairs of arms quickly reach out to catch me and help me rise to sitting position. “T-thank you...” My voice is quiet and raspy. The one with black hair clears his throat, “You’re very welcome. And I must say, after that eventful beginning to your new life as a merman, you appear to be adjusting exceptionally well.” I barely have time to take in the the clear, monotone, almost British-accented vocalization before Luis buds in, “I told you, we can’t stay here. I appreciate the hospitality and magical transformation, but we already have lives on land!”

The mysterious yellow-tailed man scoffs, “Yes, I’m sure your existence as a human can be just as exciting as that of mythical creatures.“ His tone is playful and cunning, which I must admit pairs well with his mystical and villainous demeanor. I turn away from the group and tune out their argument, gazing once again at the aquatic world around me. The fish, the plants, the water - it’s all so beautiful and mysterious. Besides, Luis never cared all that much about reality and the normalcy of our lives before, he’d love a chance to explore and step away from how boring society is.

I was REALLY proud of this when I wrote it, showed it to everyone, and I still like most of it. Makes me kinda jealous actually because I feel like after years of being too tired and unmoved and burnt out from school and life and hormones, or simply just not having time, my writing is so bad. I hadn’t written in so long, but finally started some short things recently, and it felt good, but they’re still just nothing compared to some things I’ve written. I’m by far not proud of all my writings, but there is a level of greatness I did reach that I’m not sure I can anymore.

#mermaid AU #mermaids #sanders sides #sanders sides au #i hope people like it #ferrenpost

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elendsessor · 9 months

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pictured here is a comment i got on a post i made on one of my sideblogs. now this actually kinda motivated me to go and look into something for no other reason than “yeah sure why the hell not.”

and thus i went down a mini rabbit hole.

this is referring to a post about smt 4, but i think they just mistyped smtv instead of iv—

the picture in question shown is this concept art for blasted tokyo:

now this pic mirrors that of where jonathan is in all the little dream/vision/whatever you wanna call them sequences prior to choosing a route. however…

the head of what i believe is supposed to be the statue of aquila or some other structure is different. blasted tokyo is full of rubble on the surface but none match the head from what i can remember (i may be wrong). even then, the guy pictured isn’t jonathan. next thing to question is “what if it’s jonathan’s beta design?” or if any other art for blasted tokyo matched the mystery man.

to the left is beta jonathan and to the right ends up being for the remaining underground districts and for pluto castle (home of the best boss in the game) + weird shadowy figures. again nothing matches up. there’s a really cool exterior shot that i don’t think is ever in the game tho. closest other character i could think of is kiyoharu.

originally though he was intended to wear the same outfit everyone else does (which contextually makes more sense and is something they should’ve stuck with).

so who is this guy? the answer is god knows. best guess i have at this point is an original design for either 1. a law hero similar to 1 and 2, since 4 was a bit back to basics compared to the previous two mainline entries or 2. one of the original concept designs for flynn/the mc. in a lot of the concept artwork displaying what represented the player, they mostly never resemble flynn. some end up just being random designs meant for npcs, armor, or were scraped concepts altogether. a good portion of them are just area concepts. 4 has a ton of world building and i would argue is more based in that than any of the other games.

in just the concepts for tokyo alone that’s the case. mikado concept art isn’t any different.

a lot of background concept art (such as for the weapons dealer, exterior shots of a few dungeons, rooms with npcs in them, etc) end up getting used for locations you can’t walk around in, since the free roam stuff is 3d modeled save for a couple assets. there’s no rough sketches available for most of the areas even in the art book, and that can definitely be the case for character concepts too. sometimes it’s easy to forget that an entire team works on art and not just a couple people, especially in 4’s case given how there’s a few guest artists. there are likely many concepts and pieces of art that have never been seen or are completely lost. any unnamed unknown character shown in these bits of art were likely meant to exist at some point and yet never did.

though gonna be honest this was just the perfect excuse to go looking through concept art again. (quick shoutout to veskscans since she’s uploaded scans of 4’s art book to a google drive (which is linked on her blog). many of the area concept artwork and early character designs are easy to find but smaller scale scenery not so much. she’s a goddamn hero.)

#shantien rambles #smt #smt4

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sanjisprincesswifey · 2 years

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imagine ⋆ zoro x reader

summary: you and your soulmate don't have one of your five senses until you fall in love with one another

♡: soulmate au zoro. female reader. 2.700+ words. sfw content.

“left...right...left...left.”

your body sways back and forth, mimicking the swinging of zoro's swords. the movement of cool air ran along your body, allowing you to know in what directions he was wielding them in.

“now you stopped.”

wiping his sweaty brow with his towel, zoro placed his swords back onto the display case you had made him with a soft chuckle.

"why’d you stop?” you ask, your body turning to face him. your eyes follow where you presumed him to be by the creaking of the floor boards, awaiting an answer.

“i’ve been training for an hour,” he blankly stated, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“has it really been an hour?” you lifted your wrist, pretending to take a look at your imaginary watch.

zoro laughs to himself, his eyes fixated on the grey of your own. staring straight ahead you continued to sketch in your notebook, a soft smile resting on your lips as it always did.

“what're you drawing?” he wonders, an unusually curious tone seeping into his sentence.

your pencil stopped, his deep voice was so hypnotizing. though you had no idea what he looked like, you could only imagine.

“what i think you look like,” you admit, with an unapologetic smile curving your lips.

the water from his cup almost spilled over his bare torso; it was funny that you could feel the sudden change in the air. your hands turned the notebook to allow him to see. “what do you think?”

zoro smirked, taking the notebook from you to inspect it himself. for some reason, you had been able to capture his likeness without ever laying eyes on him. you were definitely talented, he’ll give you that.

though it had been a couple years since you lost your eyesight, you had adapted impressively quickly. you had even joked that you didn't even need your sense of sight to pursue all the things you loved and even if you didn't find your soulmate, you'd fare rather well.

when you first joined the crew, zoro utilized your ailment as an excuse to train together. he'd say something among the lines of 'spending hours in the crow’s nest would perfect your fighting skills'. though, to be frank, you were already a pretty talented fighter without his help.

“huh, well;" zoro toys with his inner cheek.

that strange, unfamiliar fuzziness he had felt before was back again. at first, it was frightening, but looking at you now, it was much more comforting and warm than it had previously been.

“it’s really good,” he admits. his words tugged at your heartstrings, pleased with yourself and your talent. “how can you do that? it actually looks like me, but you don’t even know what i look like.”

you giggled, allowing him to take the notebook from your hands. “that’s what you look like in my head. i’ve asked the others what you look like and this is the final product. although, sanji said you were just a moss ball with hair.”

zoro paused, he didn’t even register the cook’s snide comment, he was more focused on what you said before that.

“you asked the others?”

you nodded, glad you couldn’t see anything, so you wouldn’t have to make awkward eye contact with the swordsman right now.

“yeah, it was easier than asking you if i could feel your face to, you know, feel for myself.”

zoro’s eyes flicked between your dull ones and your lips where a small smile rested. the feeling from before festered further throughout his body. he felt sweaty and not just because he had been working out for the past hour.

his palms twitched at the thought of feeling your dainty hands running over his features, and some part of him wanted you to.

“but, since we’re here,” you sheepishly gushed, inching closer to him. “do you mind if i...”

before zoro could respond, luffy burst through the crow’s nest hatch, scanning the room until his big black eyes found you. “y/n! there you are! come with me! i’ve been looking for you!”

without waiting for confirmation, luffy pulls you by the hands to follow him to the main deck, holding you tightly in his arms on the way down.

zoro was unsure of what luffy needed from you, but all he wanted was for you to be sitting by him again. your warmth lingered, but only for a second as zoro was left on his own. it was the first time, of many to come, that he disliked being alone.

.。･:*:･

“remind me again, why did you want to come with me, zoro?”

he followed next to you, pulling the wagon full of ingredients sanji had asked you for.

you were surprised when he had offered to join you, instead of head with luffy and franky to go eat, or stay on the sunny to nap. but you weren’t complaining, you enjoyed pretending like you couldn’t tell his stare would be lingering on you for longer than it should’ve.

“couldn’t afford for you to get lost,” he shrugged nonchalantly which resulted in a scoff coming from you.

“are you really one to talk?” you joke.

zoro laughed, a little too hard, causing your heart to race at the unfamiliar sound.

“wait,” you both stopped, a familiar chime rang through your ears, “come with me.” you took hold of his hand, dragging him with you to wherever you were headed.

you did not fail to notice that he never once attempted to retreat from your hold like you thought he would.

his eyebrows raised as he looked down at your hands, now realizing you had interlaced your fingers together. feeling you attached, almost like a sign that you were his, he felt a sort of pride, confidence in which he hasn’t felt before.

you stopped in front of the wind chime display, smiling to yourself.

your mind flooded with the thought of your childhood home, wind chimes flowing through the summer breeze, emitting a melodious sound.

you released zoro’s hand, the emptiness from the other night returning, causing him to frown.

“excuse me, how much for the wind chimes?” you ask, hoping the person behind the display heard you.

the vendor curiously flicked eyes between you and zoro, before noticing the dullness in your own.

“they’re one hundred berries a piece ma’am.” the gentleman offered, taking your outstretched hand and kissing the back of it.

zoro growled lowly when the man studied your face with the same expression the cook often had.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, are you new in town?”

you chuckled, shaking your head, feeling the delicate objects with your hands as you retreat from his grasp.

“no, we’re just in town for the night. we’re leaving tomorrow,” you inform, reaching for your bag to retrieve the correct amount of money.

the vendor's hand rests on top of yours as your rummaging halts.

“how about instead of paying for this, i’ll give it to you in exchange for a date tonight. you know, since you’ll still be in town?”

zoro’s jaw clenched at the man's words, eyes darting to your face to see how you were reacting to this.

his eye twitched when the man paid no mind to him, acting as if he didn’t even exist.

you hesitate for a second, “um...sure. i guess that would be okay." you awkwardly smile, unsure of how to respond.

a sharp pain grows in zoro's chest as he drops the handle of the wagon, a loud slapping sound emitting as it dropped to the concrete floor.

he darted immediately to the sunny, leaving you alone while he feels his head throbbing.

“zoro?” you called, but you got no response.

.。･:*:･

“sanji, can i have more of this tea? it’s amazing!” you smiled, holding out your cup so that the chef could refill it.

zoro followed your eyes, and if you had your sight you’d be making eye contact with one another.

the thing is, you knew zoro was staring at you. his gaze was hot and it burned into you, but you decided to save him the embarrassment in front of your nakama and let it slide. for now.

“of course, my dearest y/n. i’m so glad you enjoy it. can i get you anything else before you go?” sanji coos as you felt his lips against your knuckles, a gesture that he often pulled when you were least expecting it.

meanwhile, zoro’s stare from before had a much angrier intent, the air growing slightly heavier.

sanji was used to it though. after all, the two being the object of one another's aggression was a common occurrence, but it was strange this time around.

the reason behind his anger was clear to everyone at that table, probably except luffy and chopper to due to sheer obliviousness.

after you had left for your date, robin, nami, brook, and sanji decided on a plan to corner zoro in the kitchen.

right before he could leave for bed, robin locked the door, her hana-hana limb keeping it shut to deny him an exit.

“mm?” zoro turned around, facing robin who was innocently smiling at him.

“take a seat moss head,” sanji interrupts before blowing his smoke in the opposite direction.

he was confused, but obliged and sat at the head of the table, kicking his feet up.

“zoro, you seem to be taking a liking to y/n,” brook started, sipping his tea.

he only paused for a moment, doing his best not to stagger from his calmed demeanor, shrugging his shoulders, “yeah, she’s nice. a good training partner.”

he was good at pretending to be fine, he just hoped the three didn’t see the bead of sweat that formed on his brow.

“she’s quite pretty too, don’t you think so?” robin asked, tilting her head.

zoro’s breath hitched, his good eye shooting open to stare back at the girls who sat opposite the table from him.

nami wore such a devilishly evil smile it made him nervous to continue speaking.

“i, uh-” he coughed, feeling the burning stare of his friends.

“if you ask me, y/n is gorgeous.” brook spoke, “i would like to ask her for her panties-"

nami throws a shoe at the skeleton, ready to cut to the chase and avoid the sexual harassment. “so what do you think? you agree with us?”

zoro swallowed thickly, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. “s-sure. yeah, she’s cute.” his eyes wandered the room, refusing to look at the four matchmakers in front of him.

“enough. we could do this all night. mosshead, you like y/n or what?” sanji’s arms folded across his chest in an accusatory manner, enjoying how uneasy zoro seemed to be.

“wha--? no! no, i don’t like her. that’s crazy,” zoro shot out of his chair, hastily pacing around the room, somewhat laughing at sanji’s allegation.

he stopped when he realized that they were tauntingly smiling at the poor swordsman.

he drew in a long breath before nodding, sitting back down. “yeah, i think i do.” zoro expected the others to laugh, perhaps to make fun of him for feeling so sentimental over a person. but he forgot who he was talking to.

a comforting hana-hana limb rubbed his back while he let out a dry laugh, holding his hands out in disbelief.

“what do i do?”

his hands carded through his hair, it felt good to finally let it out.

“i’m back!” your voice was faint, far off.

“you have to tell her,” nami screeches, almost excited to watch this go down.

zoro’s brows furrowed together, shaking his head.

after minutes of back and forth, zoro was being pushed out the door.

“don’t be a wimp mosshead.”

“are you crazy? what am i supposed to say?” the four combined their power and were able to get zoro out the door, locking it behind him.

“tell her you like her eyes!”

“ask to see her panties!”

“tell her the truth!”

zoro rubbed his head, grumbling underneath his breath as he spotted you up in the crow’s nest overlooking the open ocean. the kitchen light was off when he turned around to check one more time to see if he could run.

he took his time getting up there, hands slowly, shakily, opening the hatch.

you were sitting on the couch against the window, your hand cradling your head.

you heard someone enter the room, hoping whoever it was would leave you alone.

sighing, your legs fall to the floor feeling zoro sit at the opposite end of the couch.

“are you trying to scare me?” you joke, causing zoro to flinch; he thought he was doing a good job of being discreet.

“w—what? no! i, i was just—”

“i’m just messing with you, how was dinner?”

zoro couldn't even answer your question, his head spinning way too much to think clearly. maybe he’d pass out and wouldn’t have to tell you.

you turned your head more in his direction when he took too long to respond.

“oh, dinner was okay,” he swallowed thickly. he knew you weren’t actually looking at him, but when your idle eyes roamed over him his heart began irradicably beating. “how was your date?”

you shifted in your seat, unsure if he was the person you should be telling this to.

“that bad, huh?”

you both laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“it was okay. he was nice, and smart, and funny...”

‘this would be the best time to pass out,’ zoro thinks, his brow picking up a sweat.

“...but,” his brows raised, eyes shooting directly over to you. “he just wasn’t my type.”

zoro clenched his fists, fisting bumping the air in celebration.

“i think i like someone else,” you admit.

your cheeks stained red, and you didn’t know, but his did too.

zoro’s eyes glanced between his lap and your hand resting on top of the couch, wondering if he should grab it.

“anyways,” you interrupt, hoping to change the subject. you leaned over the edge, rummaging through your bag for your notepad and paper. “do you think i could feel your face now?” you mischievously ask, face splitting into a playful smile, inching closer not waiting for an answer from him.

before your he could even open his mouth to respond back, you were sitting on your knees on the couch, face so close to him he could smell the perfume you were wearing, hands hovering over his cheeks.

so much heat radiated off your hands, but all he could focus was on your dulled eyes gazing up at him.

“yeah, sure,” was all he said before your hands brushed over his stubbly skin using the most gentle touches.

your fingertips handled him in a delicacy that he had never experienced before, his lids aching to fall closed. “wow, your jawline is so sharp,” you comment, giggling when your fingers brush over his adam’s apple and you can feel him swallow. your hands wander up to the curvature of his nose, the tips of your fingers gliding around with ease.

zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest, what was this feeling? it was so powerful but terrifying? you were so pretty, and you smelled so nice, and your touch was so heavenly. what was this bursting feeling in his chest? when he looks back up at you and sees you smiling at him, he feels his heart beginning to swell. it’s like he can’t even catch his own breath. not even some of his strongest opponents had ever made him feel this weakness in battle, this vulnerable. so safe.

it was like a curtain. it was like darkness, and then sunlight. the feeling of that warmth enveloping your body in the kindest of hugs. the world exploded with vibrant arrays of colors you hadn’t seen in so many years. the yellowish-orange of the sunsetting sky, the ocean waves, the white of the clouds. your hands froze, your eyes now staring directly into zoro’s, who were incredibly wide.

was he dreaming? one minute he’s staring in your greyed eyes, and the next they’re bright, luminous and golden from the sun outside. if this was a dream, this was the best one he’s had about you yet.

you blinked a couple times, eyes attempting to focus. “zoro?” you breathed, hands still cupping his cheeks. zoro was doing his best to maintain consciousness, his brain unable to even process what had just happened.

your gaze was like fire, burning every inch of his face until it was red hot. your eyes ran over every feature on his face, examining each little detail, he was even prettier than you had imagined. not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine zoro to look as handsomely as he did.

you smiled widely, “it’s you,” hands running through his short, bright green hair.

zoro’s hands found your hips pulling you on top of his lap so you straddled him, lips so close yet, so far out of reach. “you’re my soulmate,” you whispered against his smug smile.

“so it’s okay if I kiss you?” you nodded, leaning into his lips before he had a chance to react. zoro groaned into your mouth, the simple sensation of your lips on his was more than enough to please him. he’d been waiting so long for this; he would’ve been satisfied with a simple kiss on the cheek.

his breath was hot, and his lips were chapped, but you didn’t mind. he guided yours with ease, nipping at your bottom lip. “you’re prettier than i saw in my head,” you smiled, your eyes remaining screwed shut.

“really?”

zoro was blushing beyond compare, his whole body pulsed when reality set in that he was actually holding you.

“prettier than i could ever imagine,” you sigh into the air, leaving no room between your lips once again.

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro imagine #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine

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ilovekazuhaa · 2 years

Note

Could you pls write something like: The reader is Isabela's best friend and has a crush on Julieta, but she doesn't confess bc she doesn't want to ruin the friendship with Isa. Julieta also has feelings for the reader, but doesn't speak bc they have a large age difference. Mirabel finds out about how the two feel and decides to make the matchmaker. (the reader is in her 20s) I love your blogs <3

Ooh! this is a really cool idea!! I love that Mirabel's gonna be our matchmaker, let's see how well she does :0 Also tysm! I’m so happy you love my blogs <33

“I like you. In that way.”

Julieta x fem reader

Genre: a little angsty here and there, but mostly pure fluff

Extra info: reader is in her 20s

You sat by yourself on a bench in the plaza, near Julieta’s stand. You were painting something special just in time for her birthday, which was coming up soon.

“Whatcha painting?” Isabela says as she sits next to you. “Woah, that’s amazing! You painting this for her birthday?” she said, staring wide eyed at your work in total fascination. Pictured was a smiling Julieta hugging her daughters tightly.

“Yeah, I really hope she likes it, it’s been in the works for a while” you responded proudly.

“I’m 100% sure she will, Y/N. She cares for you so much, she’d still say it was amazing even if it was ugly. Which it isn’t, don’t worry, I wouldn’t lie to you” Isa said, smiling.

You always knew Isabela showed her love for you in little ways like this, even if it was unusual. You laughed in response “Okay Isa, thanks” you said as you got back to painting.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck.” She said as she got up from her spot next to you and winked as she walked away.

You felt bad doing this, not telling Isa the real reason you were painting this for Julieta. Sure, it was for her birthday, but the love that came from this wasn’t coming from the daughter’s best friend, it was coming from someone who was so deeply in love with her. There were lots times where you contemplated on telling Julieta about your feelings towards her, but you were so afraid of what Isa would say. She was your best friend, and you didn’t think that you being in love with her mother was a good idea. You cared for Isa too much to do that to her. Imagine your best friend becoming your step mom! But it was so unfair, you couldn’t control who you loved. Plus, you were also hesitant because of your age gap. The woman was in her 50s and you were in your 20s. There was no way you could be together, even if she felt the same way you did.

Mirabel walked across the bridge from Casita, on her way to her mother’s stand. While on her walk, she was planning on what she was going to do for her mother’s birthday that was fast approaching. While in her train of thought, she tripped over something and fell. She got up and dusted herself off. “A notebook?” she spoke aloud to herself. She picked up the book and saw your name on it. “Huh, so this is Y/N’s. It wouldn’t hurt to flip through a few pages.” She allowed herself to skim through the book, not expecting to find anything interesting. It was a normal, worn out notebook that you took everywhere. It was a small enough to fit in your pocket. A loud gasp suddenly came from Mirabel when she started scanning through it. “Y/N likes my mom?!?!” she exclaimed in complete shock. Your notebook had every single one of your journal entries. They were all about Julieta. It basically consisted of your journey of falling in love with her, also including some of your little moments together. You had also listed things Julieta mentioned she loved doing, along with your rough sketch for her birthday gift. “This is crazy, but kinda sweet. Time to help a girl in need.” Mirabel said as she closed the notebook, shoving it in her bag and continuing her walk.

Julieta stood at her stand, healing person after person. She was growing impatient with all of these ungreatful people. It bothered her that she always had to act a certain way, just because she was the worn out golden child. She wished someone who really cared about her, needed her. She couldn’t wait to get out of here and hear about your action packed day. You were the only thing that made her happy, besides her amazing family. She grew a romantic liking to you, and wanted to tell you how she felt. There was no way she could allow herself to fall in love with her daughter’s best friend. But it was too late, she fell for you, hard. Julieta always cherished everything you two did together. From cooking together to painting, there was never a dull moment. But there was no way she could be with you, the age gap was too large. She feared you would be looked down upon and didn’t want to be a burden when she grew old and you had to take care of her. Coming to this realization, she sighed in defeat. She was taken out of her train of thought by her youngest daughter running towards her.

“Hola mama!” Mirabel said as she hugged her mom, incredibly out of breath.

“Mija, why are you out of breath, is there an emergency??” Julieta asked in a worried tone.

“No, sorry I worried you, I just wanted to ask you something.”

The woman sighed in relief as she put the plate of arepas down, paying full attention to what her daughter had to say. “Sure mi amor, what's your question?”

“Well, I was wondering if there’s anyone you hold close to your heart.” Julieta immediately thought of you. “I hold you close to my heart, mi corazón.” She said with a small smile, squeezing Mirabel’s hand.

“No mama, not like that.” The girl shook her head. “Is there anyone you hold close to your heart in that way.”

“Well I-” her mom stuttered as a heavy blush grew on her cheeks, playing with the strings on her apron. She kept looking behind Mirabel to where you were, unknown to her, painting her. Mirabel stared at her mother, arms crossed, with a knowing look. “Just admit it mama. You like Y/N. Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at her.”

“Mirabel please, I don’t see her that way.” It hurt her saying those words out loud. How could she let herself lie about this? “We also have a large age gap. That would be... strange.” The woman said, now frowning.

“Whatever you say mama. I’m not giving up on you and Y/N just yet” the girl said triumphantly as she walked away.

“Here” you heard someone say, sitting next to you. You looked over. It was Mirabel. In her hands, was your precious notebook, where you wrote about all of that stuff. You hadn’t even realized it was missing, you must’ve dropped it somewhere.

Before taking it back, you hesitated “You read through it, didn’t you?”

“You sure know me well, Y/N” the girl responded, putting her hands up in surrender.

“Just please don’t tell Julieta about anything you saw” you begged as you grabbed it from her hands. “Fine, but you only have until my mom’s birthday to tell her, or I will” she said, with an evil smile.

“Hey! That’s not fair! I don’t have to tell her anything!” you argued. “That’s the rules” she responded, shrugging her shoulders.

“Rules? Since when are there rules about confessing to someone?!?!” you yelled.

She ignored your statement, saying “You can tell her right after giving her that” she said, using her head to point to your painting.

“Wait, how are you not shocked by this?” you asked, confused. “I saw it coming” she stated proudly. Given her reaction earlier, she definitely did not see it coming.

“Wait so you’re not mad?” you asked. “Mad? Why would I be mad? I’m so happy my mom found love again and I can see that you love her. So much. So this is my way of helping you.”

“You’re.. going to help?”

“Of course I will. Now, I’ll leave you to it. You’ve got a lot of work to do” the girl said as she smiled. Mirabel only wanted the best for you two, so of course she was going to help.

“Thank you, Mira” you said. “It’s nothing, really” she responded, waving her hand.

You looked down, sighing as you shifted in your seat. You felt so guilty, Mirabel had found out about this before Isa did. “Hey, is everything alright?” Mirabel said, noticing your change in behavior. “It’s just that I’m afraid because I don’t want Isa to hate me for wanting to be with her mom. What if she gets mad… and it ruins our friendship?” you responded.

“Y/N, are you for real? Isa would never hate you. Sure, she could think its weird, but she wouldn’t hate you for it. I promise.” she said, holding your hand and squeezing it. Her reassurance made you feel confident enough that you could finally do this, finally tell her how you felt. Setting a plan in place, it was only a matter of time until you executed it. But little did you know, Mirabel also had a few tricks up her sleeve.

It was finally the triplets’ birthday, and you were a nervous wreck. You were going to gift Julieta the painting you’ve been working on for months. It was also the deadline set by Mirabel that required you to tell her mom about your feelings towards her. You gave the girl props, she helped you bring the painting inside without Julieta seeing, keeping it out of sight until the party.

Unbeknownst to you, Isa was told the whole situation by Mirabel and she was so excited to help. “Hate her? How could I ever hate my best friend? I swear she doesn’t think sometimes!” She grew a large bouquet of her mom’s favorite flowers, ready to give to you when you confessed to Julieta.

When you arrived to the party, there was loud music playing and there were so many people clogging the hallways and everywhere you went. As you looked around in fascination, you caught Mirabel’s gaze. She winked and gave you a thumbs up mouthing a “you got this.” You smiled back at her, walking into the large dining room where the triplets were posing for photos with all of their guests. When you walked in, you immediately spotted Julieta. She was smiling and laughing with the guests, telling them stories about her life. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was so pure and kind, she was definitely your favorite triplet.

Looking around the room, Julieta noticed you and tried to keep her excitement at bay. She quickly ended the conversation she was having by saying she had to “use the restroom”. She scurried away from them and straight towards you.

“Hola birthday girl” you said hugging her tightly. “Hola my sweet Y/N” she responded, pulling away from the hug, despite not wanting to let go. “I got this for you...” you said, pulling a party hat out of your bag. It had lots of different colors and had “happy birthday” displayed on the front of it.

It looked like this:

“Aw, isn’t that sweet” she said, putting a hand on her chest. “Will you do the honors?” she asked, wanting you to put the hat on for her. “I’d want nothing more.”

Putting the hat on her, you couldn’t help but laugh. Julieta noticed this, asking “What? Do I look funny?” She cracked a smile at your laugh, it was adorable. “No mi amor, you look great” you responded, boosting her ego a bit.

Taking her hand, you twirled her around and pulled her close. One of your hands was wrapped around her waist and the other intertwined with hers. Your faces were a hair apart and you just stared into each other’s eyes, without a care in the world. In that moment, nothing else mattered, especially the stares you two were getting. You and Julieta were too in the moment to pay any attention to that.

Mirabel saw this as the perfect opportunity. Running from her spot on the dance floor to where the music was coming from. She asked the person in charge to change the music to a more ‘romantic song’. Without any protest, the song was changed from upbeat to slow and romantic.

Catching on, Casita shone a spotlight on both you and Julieta. Snapping the two of you out of your trance, the both of you pulled away and saw the crowd forming around you, chanting for you to dance. Looking at her expression, a light blush grew on her cheeks. Your heart melted. She was so beautiful. Her natural smile, peppered locks tied into a bun, those big brown eyes that never failed to make your heart flutter, her perfect tan skin shimmering under the light, and her typical blue dress contrasting with her skin tone took your breath away. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, but you felt calm in that moment.

“Care for a dance, birthday girl?” you asked, putting out your hand. “Of course” she responded, taking your hand and slightly bowing. Letting the music take over, you two danced and held each other as hundreds of eyes followed your every move and cherish each other’s touch. Julieta put her head on your chest, hugging you tightly, as you slow danced. She took in your scent and you felt her soft hum vibrate through your body.

“Juli?” you said, breaking the silence. “Yes, mi vida?” the woman responded, staying in her spot on your chest.

“I have something I want to tell you, and I have for a while. Just promise me that nothing will change between us if things don’t work out.”

Hugging you tighter, she responds “Nothing you say could ever change things between us. Tell me.” Taking a deep breath in, you pull away and cup her face with your hand.

“I like you. And not in the friendly way. I like you. In that way. Look, I know we have a large age gap but let’s do what we want. Who cares what anyone else says.”

Leaving the rest to fate, you felt as if the world was lifted off your shoulders. The only thing worrying you now is what Julieta would say. Eyes widening at this statement, she grabbed the hand cupping her face. Responding “I- I don’t-” not being able to form what she wanted to say with words, she decides to use her actions instead.

Tucking a hair behind your ear, Julieta leans in close, planting a soft kiss on your lips. As she pulled away, her warm breath trickled down your neck and gave you goosebumps. It felt like fireworks. Nothing could ruin this moment. This sparked lots of gasps from the crowd. It was followed by cheers and clapping from everyone.

Looking at your shocked expression, Julieta asks “Does that answer your question?” You smile, picking her up and kissing her on the lips again “God, just marry me already.” Setting her down, she responds with a laugh “Sure, where’s the ring?”

#julieta madrigal #julieta x you #julieta x reader #julieta madrigal x reader #julieta madrigal x you #encanto julieta #julieta encanto #encanto x reader #encanto #encanto imagine #julieta #julieta madrigal imagine #julieta my beloved #encanto fanfic #encanto imagines #disney encanto

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chiwhorei · 4 years

Text

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

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inotanzen · 3 years

Note

hiii! i really admire your art skills. and the fact that you improved so much in just 6 months is inspiring! do you have any tips on how to improve? i'm 26 and i want to improve but i feel like ive neglected my art for so long and now it's too late. :(

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH OMG ?? oh man i’m so bad with feeling and gratitude but this seriously means more than i can express so i worked really, really hard on narrowing down my best tips! so here’s

Eli’s Top 5 Rules To Be a Totally Cool Awesome Badass Artist In As Long As It’s Going To Take (In Order) :

Most important rule of all is it should be FUN. be disgustingly self indulgent, draw what you want and LOVE, not what you think you should or what everyone else is, or how everyone else is! don’t vibe with doing sketches first? hate lining? despise complicated painting styles? find shortcuts, don’t do them!!! if you’re doing digital maybe draw your sketches traditionally first and scan them/take a photo to draw over, try a lineless style, cel shading, or mixing mediums, the options are endless! this is where your “style” will come from. all “style” is, is an artists shorthand.

You are your only competition. never compare your progress to anyone but your past self, it’s not a race in terms of how good you are at X age after X amount of time spent practicing. i saw it illustrated in this comic a few years ago (that made me cry at the time, because i hadn’t started drawing yet) as seeing your skills as a beautiful potted plant- just because some people are walking around with theirs fully grown and thriving, doesn’t mean your little sprout will stay small forever. just be patient, keep watering it, and eventually, it’ll be a beautiful flower all your own. ❀

Use references Obsessively. this includes tracing! (ethically) there’s a ton of resources out there, redraws of frames from movie or shows are great too! play around with it, try using the perspective but change the style or turn it into a character au for a fandom you love. (this is part of that first tip!) mashing together images past the point of original intelligibility is acceptable as well. the goal isn’t to obsess over accuracy or stop using references altogether though, just to use them differently over time.

Inspiration/motivation won’t be gone forever. don’t force yourself to practice drawing, or you’ll end up resenting it altogether. i’ve had my tablet and pencil since january but i say 6 months bc there were two (almost three) entire months where i had no inspiration and just did Nothing. take time to consume new media for ideas or look at what inspires you instead! keep folders of the things you find most appealing to pull up when you need them. art can be a freeing escape if you allow it to be!

Look at art you admire and think about Why you admire it. why does it look good, what catches your eye most? is it the colors? the lighting? the shapes and perspective? the varied line thicknesses or the overall layout composition? everything can be broken down into components, hone in on the ones you like most and try to emulate them. we’re all just flowing down the stream of shared inspiration together. :)

bonus digital art tip: you will always need more layers than you think you do. give each element its own layer like it’s the most introverted mf you’ve ever met, i swear on everything good in this cursed world you will thank me later. layer/item selection and transform are your best goddamn friends for life.

there’s also a lot of art related posts in this tag and on my art twitter ♡ thank you endlessly again and good luck on your journey!!

#art tips #art advice #anonymous #love me #i just know i'm forgetting sth #and i'll kick myself when i remember later #but i Think that's everything #that's helped me most at least!#i hope it can help you at all #it's never too late ♡

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tulsa-trash · 3 years

Text

Book Swap

Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice

WARNING(S): N/A

You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.

Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.

It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.

Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.

Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?

You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.

Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.

Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.

Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.

Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.

Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???

Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.

Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.

With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.

"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.

In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.

"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.

His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.

"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.

"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."

"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.

You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.

"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.

"Have you read it before?" He asked.

You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."

"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.

You snickered, "Must be really great."

"What ya got there?"

You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.

"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"

"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."

"Well what's it about?" He asked.

You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.

You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.

"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.

"That sucks." He said disappointedly.

You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.

"Hey, Pone?"

He hummed in response.

"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"

"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.

You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.

Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.

The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.

After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.

It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.

There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.

"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.

You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.

"You like him, huh?" He asked you.

You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.

"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."

"Does he know?"

"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."

"Why not?"

"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.

"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.

"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.

It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.

"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.

Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'

"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.

"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.

"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."

You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.

"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.

"Oh I don't think, I know."

You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.

"I like him too." You admitted.

Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Well... what should I do?"

"Tell him." Two replied.

"I agree." Johnny piped up.

Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.

"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.

"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"

"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."

Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?

Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?

Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.

Ponyboy: It's alright.

Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?

Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin

But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...

Ponyboy: Well... Go on then

Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it

I like you

like a lot

Ponyboy: As a friend or?

Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...

Ponyboy: Wait actually?

Y/N: Yes Pony

Ponyboy: Seriously??

Y/N: OMG YES!!

I LIKE YOU A LOT!

... im sorry if it weirds you out

Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.

SORRY

... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.

But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.

Y/N: Are you sure?

Ponyboy: Positive doll

Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?

Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?

Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)

Y/N: Well I would love to :)

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fic #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders fandom #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis imagine #ponyboy curtis fanfiction #ponyboy fic #modern!ponyboy #ponyboy curtis au #c thomas howell

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gluteus-canis-familiaris · 2 years

Text

art post . 07

IT’S THE HBOWAR ART POST : RAGGEDY ASS MARINES EDITION BAYBEH

was too lazy to put my sig on the scans but...... it's the HBOwar fandom...... there are only 10 of us active at a time anyway adfjfjhshagahahaha jk jk

no, no, no, this is not the product of my anxiety when I thought school was starting, only for classes to get postponed for a whole 2 weeks because of a bad wave of omicron, thereby extending the period of anxiety, and then me actually catching it, and subsequently going more nuts than usual while in self-isolation…. nooo…… why would you think that

my notes for this are a real mess, no joke, pls continue reading at your own risk looool

Around this time last year, I started a new sketchbook!!! It felt really nice because it takes so long for me to finish one :( My first sketch in the new one happened to be of Frank Castle and Billy Russo (the Punisher and Jigsaw). I wasn’t that happy with it, had no intention of posting it, and it’s not even HBOWar (??? she doesn’t even go here HAHAHA), but it ended up in this post anyway because I feel like I’ve come full circle by starting 2022 with more USMC goodness! (I mean it’s Jon Bernthal and Recon Marines sooooo not that far of a leap??? also this will be the closest I’ll ever get to making GK/The Punisher crossover content for myself akhkdhkjfha)

The ooooonly reason any of the other sketches came to be is because I sat down for 3 nights in a row, AB SO LUTE LY DETERMINED to draw BradNate before I was thrown back into the torture of a new semester, and I would put a colored pencil down on the page– and my hand would go NOPENOPENOPEABORTABORTABORT

.... so here we are with a whole page of Doc Badass Bandana Bryan and another whole fuqin page of AndyEddie instead akdjfhf

If I’m being honest though, I’m most happy with the AndyEddie ones 💖💖💖 the bottom left is from the scene in Episode 6 where Ack Ack comes back and tells Hillbilly ‘don’t blame yourself, you did the right thing’ (which is like….bAbE NOOOooOOOooooo) but I mistakenly put them both in ponchos!! Only Hillbilly was smol under a poncho in the actual scene!!! Very minor, but I feel the need to say it!!!!

If you’re thinking the paper of the Doc Bryan page looks like someone took an angry damp q-tip to their watercolor pencils thinking it was cool, then you’d be damn right.

And THEN as if my dumbass didn’t think that spending 3 days waffling about before even attempting BradNate was already a red flag, my brain said bUt i nEeD tO seE tHeM iN tHeIr dReSs bLuEs !!! and the rest of me thought, LeT’s dO iT !!!! UGGGGGHHHHHNNNNGGGHHHH SO THAT WAS THAT

Ended up spending a lot of my sick days just looking up the particulars of the Marines dress uniform, which was really fun!! And then I laid down my sketch and made the mistake of deciding on serious coloring instead of my lazy 1-3 tone shading because i wAntEd tHe rEd pIpiNG tO rEalLy sTaNd oUT which was….. a lot less fun…. If it wasn’t already obvious, I nearly abandoned this one several times, I was sooooo damn lazy to color everything in, only to return to it 'cause I was crawling up the walls from isolation lol

Disclaimer that in spite of the joy of reading up on the uniform standards, I really couldn’t 👏 be 👏 arsed 👏 to make the ribbons and medals accurate, I sincerely apologize 🥲Nate magically has a Purple Heart now pffffft

In the end…. it doesn’t really look like either Brad or Nate to me 😂😂😂 but I’m very happy to have attempted it at least! and getting over the fear of the first try makes subsequent doodles a lot easier and less stressful, so here’s to future Fancy BradNate yaaaaay

I had a looot of years in between my first watch of BoB and my first watches of The Pacific and GK, which came closely after each other, and weirdly enough I never got around to doing fanart in all that time no matter how much I wanted to :(((( So this feels like such a great personal turning point in my HBOwar fanhood!!! (ok there is exactly 1 unfinished Winnix sketch that is so unfinished they don’t even got gaddamn eyes and eyebrows and it won’t see the light of day nope nope)

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Honeysuckle

hi i have no self control and really really really love tattoo artist!jaskier so here we are again. this is a prequel to the nipple piercings fic wherein geralt is absolutely smitten from day one. not the same vibe but im telling myself thats to be expected bc these take place like five years apart lol

Warnings: tattoos. if they make you squeamish this is not your fic, swearing, mild anxiety, not much else

___________________

Geralt’s palms were sweating when he walked into the little tattoo shop above his favorite deli. The artist he booked was nice enough in the email, and the front desk gal was sweet on the phone, but he’d never gotten a tattoo before and his anxiety was telling him to run home and bury himself under all the blankets he owned.

A familiar voice greeted him when he came through the door, “Hey! Sweet, you’re early! Jask is just setting up the chair!”

The coily brown haired receptionist gestured to a black leather couch across the room and Geralt just barely caught a glimpse of tattooed vines from under her hoodie sleeve. He nodded and smiled, taking a seat and trying not to look so stiff. The receptionist called another artist over and Geralt was surprised when the taller, purple eyed woman wrapped her arms around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek as they looked at the monitor. It was the good kind of surprise, Geralt decided, the kind that sets you at ease when you were gearing up for a fight. The receptionist caught his unintentional smile and winked at him before he suddenly found his nail beds fascinating.

“You Geralt?”

His eyes scanned over the man asking from bottom to top and nearly lost his ability to speak, “Hm? Thats me.”

He looked like he came straight form the Seattle grunge scene in the 90’s, but showered and with beautiful floral blackout sleeves up to the wrists on each arm. It seemed the only color over his whole body was the few yellow buttercups scattered through the pattern, ending in a bouquet of all sorts of plants and flowers and herbs at his collar bones, only slightly covered by his Heathers on Broadway tank.

He flicked his wispy brown hair out of his unreasonably pretty blue eyes and smiled so brilliantly Geralt had to remember to breathe, “I’m Jaskier. Come on back!”

Geralt gave him a curt nod and stood to follow.

“I hope you brought shorts, it might be a bitch to walk home in that.” Jaskier said, leading him into one of the rooms down a long hallway.

Geralt was suddenly regretting listening to Lambert. He wanted to melt into the floor when he realized he would have to say this to the beautiful tattoo artist’s face, “They uh… they zip away…”

“Oh my god.” Jaskier breathed, finally looking at Geralt’s knees, “I didn’t even know they made those anymore.”

“I swear to god, my brother wears them for work and told me to-”

Jaskier waved his hand, clearly holding back a smile, “No worries, Ron Stoppable.”

Geralt rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep from smiling, “Do you make a habit of making fun of your clients?”

“Only when I’m sure they can handle it,” he teased, “Now off with the hideous zipper pants, I gotta shave your thigh before I start the drawing.”

Once Geralt was shaved and positioned every which way on the table/chair contraption, he finally got to see the rough sketch. The marker felt cool and tickled the back of his knee, but surprisingly to him, he kept up a relaxed conversation, almost flirting before he thought better of it.

“Do you like where everything is? Want any more grass? Or flowers? Now’s the time for changes, don’t be shy.”

Geralt turned his leg this way and that, looking at the little blue and purple marks in a band just above his knee in the mirror, “You’re the professional, what do you think?”

Jaskier took a step back and reached for a roll of paper towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, “You said this was your first tattoo right?”

Geralt nodded.

“Okay, one less flower on the back then.”

“Why?”

“It’s one of the most painful places to get tattooed.”

“Keep it. I like it.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, “Alright, Hot Shot. Face down, we’ll start there first.”

Holy fuck Jaskier was right. Geralt had a high pain tolerance, but this was a whole different kind of pain. He had his arms crossed under his forehead and was doing his best to take deep, even breaths but Jesus Christ, that little chuckle-fuck just kept going over what felt like the same spot. But hell would freeze over before Geralt tapped out, so he forced his breath out and kept going.

“Why honeysuckle?” Jaskier asked as he sat back to dip the machine in more ink.

Geralt took the opportunity to shift a bit and breathe easy before he lied, “Just picked it.”

Jaskier’s hands were back on his thigh, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just not something I’m asked to do very often. Never for a first tattoo.”

Geralt’s smile turned into a grimace as the needles were back at his skin. Whether it was his sincerity, pretty eyes, or Geralt’s desperate need for a distraction, he bucked up and answered his question, “My- ah, someone told me to find a reminder of things I loved. My horse eats nothing but honeysuckle whenever we go on the trails.”

"That's so fucking cute," Jaskier sighed, still attacking the back of Geralt's leg, "Wouldn't have pegged you for a horse guy. What's their name?"

The pain was easier to ignore when Geralt was rambling about Roach. Jaskier kept the conversation flowing, maybe indulging Geralt’s ramblings a little too much, but by the time he flipped Geralt over to do the inside of his knee they were joking and swapping disastrous college stories like old friends. They took a snack break where the purple eyed woman, Yennefer he'd learned, made fun of his zip shorts and Triss scolded her. It was nice, he felt oddly at home here with these people he’d just met.

The front half of the tattoo was nothing compared to the back and Geralt was able to breathe and just chat. He did his best to convince himself that the feeling in his chest wasn’t disappointment when Jaskier finally finished and wrapped his leg in saniderm.

Jaskier leaned on the front desk while they waited for Geralt’s card to run, "What are you doing after this?"

Geralt's stomach turned with nervous excitement and he truly didn't know how he got his words to come out so casual, "Was just gonna get some ramen and watch reruns, why?"

Jaskier worried at his bottom lip as he stapled the receipt to some paperwork, "There's a great ramen place around the corner and I don't have another appointment tonight…"

Geralt positively beamed, "If you can stand to be seen with someone wearing zipper shorts in public, I'd love to."

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oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years

Text

Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter.

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?"

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born. To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms.

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker."

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

Tag List Chat

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #oddsnendshenryfics

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farfromharry · 3 years

Text

The one with the makeover | Peter’s girl

Summary: Mj persuades you to give her a makeover after feeling like she isn’t pretty enough for her crush

Word count - 2317

Warnings - i don’t think there is any? possible language?

A/n - i’m really excited for this, if you want to join the taglist for this series you can join here!

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Peter Parker was head over heels for Liz Allan, and everyone could see it, probably even her too. Some might say it was slightly creepy, others might say it was cute puppy love, but Mj hated it, oh she hated it so much. You couldn’t blame her, because you did too.

The two of you were meant to be meeting Ned and Peter before school to exchange ideas about your Physics project you’d grouped up to work on. The plan was that they’d come over to your apartment to work on it tonight, if everyone stuck to the plan. It seemed like it was always you and Ned that were stuck actually working on it, Peter running off to who knows where, and Mj seemingly too cool to help out.

So here you and Mj were, waiting by Peter’s locker to see if he and Ned would show up as planned, on time, or if they’d be late like usual.

You heard the familiar laughter of the brunette boy before you saw him, prompting you to scan the crowded school hallway for him.

With her height advantage, Mj managed to spot him first, pointing the pair out.

“There they are, finally,” she huffed, nodding her head in their direction. You noticed that the two boys weren’t actually getting any closer to you. They seemed to have just frozen in their spot, staring straight ahead at the end of the hall behind you. You nudged Mj with a look of confusion, pointing out the odd behaviour, not that you weren’t used to their odd behaviour by now.

You both followed Peter’s stare to find his gaze fixated on, guess who? That’s right, Liz.

Your best friend let out a verbal sound of disagreement, slumping against the wall of lockers in defeat. You frowned, your eyes drifting back over to the boys.

“Ned, Peter, over here,” you bit back your smirk as you caught both of their attention, snapping Peter out of his daze. “We’ve been waiting for you guys forever.”

They made their way over to you with small smiles, the four of you starting up conversation. Well, more like the 3 of you, considering Peter was more interested in searching the crowd for Liz.

You placed your hand on his arm, your fingertips tracing the slight fuzz on his blue sweater. He turned to you with big eyes, looking down at your hand before his eyes flickered back up to yours.

“You okay, Pete?”

He nodded, giving you a tight lipped and very unconvincing smile. “Perfectly okay.”

»»——⍟——««

Gym class. A complete waste of time in your best friend’s opinion. Mj hated the class, she’d much rather be reading her book or sketching randomly in a secluded area of the library.

Partner tasks seemed to especially get on her nerves, especially when she was paired up with you. Yes, she loved you, but your level of participation in useless classes such as this one infuriated her. You always wanted to try and get her to join in, making up random excuses and false facts to make exercise seem more appealing.

Your eyes raked over your best friend lying down on the exercise mat, pretty much bench pressing her book while ignoring the sit ups exercise you were all currently meant to be doing.

Your coach was lazily circling the gym every so often, rolling his eyes whenever he caught sight of Mj. This was a consistent thing, Mj refusing to take part in these ‘dumb exercises’ as she called them, when she could be doing something much more worth of her time, like reading her favourite book again. He wasn’t going to question her at this point in the school year, finding it wasn’t worth the fight she’d put up in the end.

You however, had no problem trying to push to get the girl involved.

“Mj come on, if you aren’t going to do them can you at least help me do them?” you asked, using a whiny, childish tone that you knew got on her last nerve.

She rolled her eyes at your whining, placing her book beside the mat on the dirty gym floor with a grimace, folding the corner of her page as a bookmark.

The two of you switched places, having you lie down on the mat while she sat up on her knees. She placed her hands down on your shoes, adding some of her weight on them so you wouldn’t shift every time you sat up, allowing you to do the proper fitness technique that had been instructed by your teacher.

“Why do you even do this anyway,” she sassed. “It’s not like he cares.” She motioned her hand toward your teacher who was practically falling asleep against the Tv cart, his eyes barely even open anymore as he ‘supervised’ the class. Every time he jolted awake he accidentally made the cart roll a couple inches, nearly falling onto his face.

You let out an amused giggle, shaking your head and flashing her your signature cheery smile.

“Because, Michelle, every time I do one I get to see your smiling face,” you teased. She flashed you a sarcastic smile, rolling her eyes at your attempt of poking fun at her.

It was moments like those that often made people question how you and Michelle were actually friends when you were complete opposites.

You were a naturally bubbly person, always trying to make other people happy, very outgoing too, you liked to make lots of friends. Mj however was labelled as ‘dark,’ sad all the time, sarcastic, sometimes considered mean (by the people that didn’t know her.) She liked to keep her circle of friends small and she was pleased with that.

Compared to most people you were considered a ball of happiness and fluff, but compared to Mj you were practically a magical fairy.

“Peter knows Spiderman!” You two shared a look, your head turning in the flustered boy’s direction. You watched uncomfortably as a nervous, red faced Peter Parker stuttered his way through a minor conversation with Liz.

When Flash made a rude comment you fully expected Mj to jump in to Peter’s defense, she normally did when it came to him, who could blame her for not liking the kid.

“Yeah, I’m having a party, you should come.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw her practically deflate, meaning she was letting Peter endure Flash’s pathetic words as some sort of petty punishment. You couldn’t be mad, Peter’s crush on the popular girl was so painfully obvious.

While everyone was distracted by Ned’s outrageous confession, you stood up from the floor and offered out your hand to Mj, sending her a reassuring smile. She sent one back, not a genuine one, but it was enough to tell you that seeing Peter send Liz those puppy, heart eyes hurt her.

“Come on,” you said, tugging on her hand so she hurried up. You led her out of the gym, in the direction of the locker rooms where you could change back into your normal clothes.

“What are we doing?” she asked, following you without hesitation. You just grinned, pushing open the doors to the locker room.

You found your bag on the bench where you left it, pulling out the sweet yellow sundress you wore to school. Mj had made sure to tell you that morning that you looked really good in it, and you were convinced your heart melted a little.

“We’re skipping,” you explained. Her eyes widened, staring at you in disbelief. You bit back your smile as you changed from your awful gym clothes into your dress, pulling on the jacket you brought with you to shield your arms from the cold breeze.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Y/N?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed. You giggled quietly, handing her bag of clothes to her.

“It’s friday and you need cheering up, let’s go have some fun.”

She stared at you like you were some kind of extraterrestrial being, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to make sure your temperature was normal.

“You never do anything rebellious, what’s gotten into you?” she asked. You shrugged, letting out genuinely excited and happy laughter. The noise of your contagious laughter made her smile, deciding she was willing to do whatever you wanted.

“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

She started to change into the clothes she was wearing earlier. A simple dark pair of jeans, a band tee and a dark brown jacket to top it all off, the ‘classic Mj’ look.

“I guess I’ll support this,” you cheered, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at you. “But this is one time, don’t let this become a common occurence,” she warned.

“Okay Mom, jeez.” She scoffed, placing her hand over her heart in offense. You didn’t give her time to clapback, taking her hand in yours again.

“Now come on, let’s go.”

»»——⍟——««

The two of you did manage to sneak away without being noticed, something you were both very grateful for, because that wouldn’t have been fun to explain to your parents.

Luckily they weren’t home, so you and Mj decided to hang out in your room, listening to music while making random conversation. She clearly avoided the topic of Peter and you were more than okay with that.

Conversation between you both eventually died down for a little bit, the two of you busying yourselves with your own tasks. You’d chosen to pick up a book, one of Mj’s recommendations of course, while she just laid there quietly.

“Is it because she’s prettier than me?” she asked, completely out of nowhere. You lifted your head from your book, looking at where she laid on her stomach on your bed, cocking your head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Liz,” she mumbled. She’d told you before that Peter drooling over Liz made her sad, and she didn’t why. You’d suggested it could be a small crush, even if she didn’t want to admit it or thought it wasn’t, but you never thought Mj would actually end up being insecure over it.

You frowned, standing up from your desk chair to climb on your bed next to her. She laid her head in your lap, enjoying the way you stroked your fingers over her curls.

You didn’t know what to say, your heart aching as you noticed the saddened look on her face.

“He’s just blind, he doesn’t see this amazing girl in front of him.” Your words clearly hadn’t done much to up lift her, seeing as the next words that came out of her mouth made you want to roll your eyes.

“Can you give me a makeover?” she asked quietly, almost like a scared child. You frowned.

“What do you mean?” She sighed, worried you were going to either make fun of her or scold her for wanting to try and look better for some boy. She sat up across from you and took your hands in hers, a pleading expression on her face.

“Do my hair, my makeup, anything, please.”

You were hesitant at first, and she could tell, but as soon as she flashed you her puppy dog eyes she knew she’d broken you down. You let out a groan, standing up from your bed to move over to where you kept your own makeup.

“Fine, c’mere.”

»»——⍟——««

It didn’t take much to make the girl look beautiful because she didn’t actually need any makeup in your opinion.

“Done,” you smiled, guiding her over to the mirror with her eyes closed. You helped her stand so she’d be able to see, shifting a few of her curls behind her ear so she could get a clearer view of her face. “And, open.”

Her honey eyes fluttered open, a gasp slipping past her lips as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. You stood behind her with a grin, glad to see that she looked happy.

“Look at you,” you whispered, placing your chin on her shoulder and your hands on her upper arms. She scanned herself from head to toe in the mirror, a soft smile creeping onto her face.

“I-I look-“ She was practically speechless.

“Stunning, you look absolutely gorgeous.” She looked down at her hands, beginning to pick at the nail polish on her finger nails. You could tell she was growing shy from the way she refused to look you in the eye, the girl clearly not used to getting compliments. “But you always look gorgeous, and who cares what he thinks?”

She took a deep breath, nodding her head and standing a little straighter.

“Yeah, who cares what he thinks, he’s just a dumb boy.” You cheered quietly, happy that you were able to make her smile after her awful mood earlier this afternoon.

“Who’s a dumb boy?” Both of your heads snapped in the direction of your bedroom door, a silent gasp slipping past your lips as you saw Peter and Ned standing there awkwardly.

You and Mj shared a nervous look, silently making a pact to keep that information to yourselves. You grew slightly flustered feeling Peter’s gaze burn into the side of your head, but you ignored it the best you could.

“Uh, no one important,” you reassured. You saw Peter’s eyes widen when his vision drifted to Mj, noticing how her face looked a little different.

“Wow Mj, you look-“ He was lost for words, trying his best to compliment one of his friends. He saw her smile falter slightly and he quickly sputtered out a word. “Beautiful.”

Her eyes bulged, an unintentional grin spreading across her face. Meanwhile your heart was breaking, part of you wishing the world would just swallow you up.

However, Ned came to save the day. “So, the project?”

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow

#peter parker series #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker #tom holland

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sunflowerspecter · 3 years

Text

haley (a.h.)

summary: hotch doesn’t know if it’s time to move on. then he meets you, and your daughter haley.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical mentions of murder, canon-typical mentions of drugs

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 3.6k

note: hey? i’m back! with another fic! after like four months! woo. i’m also almost at 400 followers which is pretty wild so cool cool. this is absolutely unedited and i’ve been working on it for literally ever, but i doubt you expected more from me anyways (the plot is also kind of sketch) anywayss, here it is my loves!

~~~oOo~~~

“JJ!” you yell, crossing the bullpen quickly. She turns to face you and smiles widely, throwing her arms open.

“Y/n!” she calls as you fall into her arms. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?”

“My team’s going to be working with your team for the next couple of cases!” As the communications liaison for Operations Support Branch (OSB), you and JJ used to collaborate often, until she was transferred and changed positions. You and her don’t get to see each other half as often as you want, but sometimes you bring your daughter, Haley, to spend time with Henry.

“Wait, really? Why weren’t we alerted?” she asks. Behind her, a tall man with dark hair steps towards you, and you already know who he is. SSA Aaron Hotchner.

“Because the decision was just made this morning,” he says. He offers his hand and you shake it. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“We all call him Hotch,” JJ adds quickly.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you say to him. “I’m the communications liaison for the OSB. I’m the only one here right now, my team is heading up as we speak.” You turn to the elevator, where your boss, Sam Holmestead, is standing, talking to Derek Morgan, someone JJ had introduced you to. “Holmes is over there.”

“Great,” Hotch says, “excuse me.” He nods at you and begins his way over to your boss, and you watch the entire way.

“Ooh,” JJ sings, giving you a friendly laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” you say, but you’re laughing too. “Now, I heard there’s a case.”

She nods. “Come up to the conference room, we’ll introduce your team to my team and give you all of the details.”

In the room, you, Holmes, and the two others from your team that were joining you— Gary Long and John Wilson— stand at the back, while the BAU all gathered in their seats.

“These four are from the OSB,” Hotch says. “Strauss wants our team to collaborate with some members of the OSB on the next few cases, so they’ll be travelling with us,” Hotch says. “JJ, want to make introductions?”

She nods, then says, “Sam Holmestead leads the team, and this is Y/n Y/l/n, Gary Long, and John Wilson.” She turns to her team, then, and says, “This is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, and David Rossi.”

Greetings are exchanged, and then it’s back to business. “Two young women were kidnapped and then killed in Tallahassee, Florida,” Garcia says. “Each one was taken from a parking lot, then held captive for a week, and then killed. A week after the first girl was killed, the second one went missing. She was found dead yesterday. Other than their throats being slashed, they were otherwise unharmed.”

You blink down at the pictures. You’ve seen things before, awful things, but this was just… so much worse. You feel better about your squeamishness when you look over and see that Wilson is as white as a ghost.

“So, what does this guy get from the kill?” Morgan says, one elbow on the table.

“It’s rather clean, as far as murder goes,” Prentiss quips. “No stabbing, no bruising. Even the cut is clean.”

“How long did it take her to die? This could be seen as merciful,” you say, glancing at Holmes, who nods at you.

“I’m guessing just a few seconds,” Reid said, looking through his file and finding the coroner’s report, then nodding and glancing up at you.

“Garcia, do these girls have anything in common?” Hotch asks, and your attention goes straight to him (because he’s talking, and you’re polite, obviously).

“They both attended Florida state and now work in insurance. Different companies,” Garcia says.

Hotch nods at her, then says, “Wheels up in 30.”

~~~oOo~~~

The jet is larger than you expected. And nicer, too. You take a seat between JJ and Morgan, and see Garcia on Skype on the table. The rest of the group files in, and you begin discussing the case.

“So, what’s this guy's deal? What’s he doing with these girls for a week?” Morgan says.

“There aren’t signs that they’re tied up, or that he blitz-attacked them,” Prentiss adds.

“Maybe he kept them locked in a sort of cellar. He wouldn’t need to tie them up.”

“Did he drug them?” Holmes asks. Reid looks over the report, then nods.

“Actually, yes, both girls had methylenedioxymethamphetamine and methamphetamine in their system,” Reid says.

“MDMA and meth?” JJ says, crossing her arms.

“Wilson, you still have contacts in Florida, right? See who’s dealing both of those these days,” Holmes says, and Wilson nods, pulling out his phone.

“MDMA is really hard to get a hold of,” Wilson says, “I’m sure it’s easier in Florida, but still, this guy has to have some way of getting money in. Lots of it.”

“Okay, so how does he insure he doesn’t hurt them with the drugs?” Prentiss says.

“And what purpose does it serve? What fantasy is he living out?” Rossi adds.

The plane hits a bit of turbulence, and your stomach flips. “Is that normal?” you whisper, and JJ laughs, nodding.

“You’ll get used to it,” Morgan says. You nod and give a short laugh.

“The likelihood of being in a plane crash is about one to 5.4 million,” Reid says, “and even so, it’s improbable that turbulence will cause a crash. Even commercial airlines are built to withstand forces 1.5 times stronger than anything experienced in the past—”

“Reid,” Hotch says sternly, but softly, “focus, please.”

“I didn’t know the BAU made cyborgs,” you say, squinting your eyes at Reid.

Prentiss nods at you, throwing her arms up. “That’s what I’ve been saying! Someone finally understands.”

“Sorry,” he says, eyes widening. “I’m curious as to whether these girls were using these drugs before or after he took them.”

“You think they were using before?” Hotch asks, and Reid nods.

“I just don’t know why he would give the girls these drugs.”

“I’ll ask the families,” JJ says.

“When we land, Reid, start setting up a geographical profile. Prentiss and Morgan, check out the dump sights. JJ, talk to the families, and make sure the press doesn’t get the information about the drugs. Rossi, take Long and go check out the abduction sights. Wilson, reach out to your contact. I want Y/l/n and Holmestead to help me with victimology,” Hotch says, looking around.

“Yes, sir’s” went around the group, and you flip to look at the victim pages.

Holmes leans across the table and looks at you. “What do you think?”

You shake your head. “It’s strange,” you say. “They hardly have anything in common. Yeah, they went to the same school, and yeah, they both work in insurance, but two very different jobs.”

Holmes shrugs, then nods. “I agree. Were they friends?” He looks at Hotch for guidance, who shrugs.

“We’ll have to find out. Garcia, have you made any connections?”

Garcia looks up on the screen, then says, “Actually, another girl has just been reported missing.”

“It’s only been a day,” JJ says, and looks at Hotch.

“We hit the ground running,” he says, and you all nod.

~~~oOo~~~

Working with the team goes a lot smoother than expected. Your teams bond together instantly, and you all work quickly and effectively.

Unfortunately, even a day and a half after the third victim's abduction, you’re no closer.

“In his comfort zone, there are 14 warehouses, 13 abandoned buildings, 25 apartment complexes, and too many residential areas to count,” you say, looking over Reid’s shoulder as he writes on the board.

“He could be anywhere,” Hotch mutters, standing beside you.

“What are we missing?” Rossi says, and you turn and slump into a chair, sitting at the table with the team. Hotch sits next to you, a pensive look on his face.

“How did he choose each girl? Are these premeditated or spur of the moment? And why did he escalate his time frame?” Morgan says, looking around the table.

JJ rushes into the room. “The third girl's body was found. And he left a note.”

The table stands. “Reid and Y/l/n, stay here and analyze the note. JJ, keep the press occupied. No one releases the note. We don’t address it yet. Everyone else, at the crime scene.”

You nod, finding it a little odd that he left you with Reid (sure, you aren’t a field agent, but the rest of your team is going somewhere), but you stay nonetheless. The team files out and you turn to Reid, looking down at the scan of the note.

“The paper looks old,” Reid says, and you squint.

“It’s not old, it was made to look that way. See how it’s not torn or wrinkled, but it’s yellowed?”

Reid nods and looks at you, for a moment, surprised. It passes quickly, and he’s looking back at the text. “Typewriter, and it’s in third person. It just describes the crime.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, and Reid shrugs.

“It could mean any number of things. Could be living out his fantasy, could be any number of mental illnesses.”

You nod, crossing your arms. It’s going to be a long night.

~~~oOo~~~

The fourth girl was taken in the wide open. There was a witness. With a description of the vehicle.

“There are more purple Volkswagens in Tallahassee than there should be,” Garcia says, “but only one registered to someone within the comfort zone of our guy.”

He doesn’t know you’re coming, and the arrest is smooth, and the girl is safe.

The plane ride back is quiet—everyone is mostly asleep. You sit by Holmes, talking idly about how the court is probably going to rule on the case. Hotch is awake and across from you, but you can tell he’s listening.

“How’s the little one?” Holmes says, and you laugh.

“As rebellious as ever,” you sigh. “She wants to be a superhero when she’s older.”

Holmes laughs, leaning back in his seat and pushing his hand through his hair. “And that’s exactly why I didn’t have kids.”

You elbow him. “Like you could get someone to reproduce with you, anyway.”

He gasps, grasping his chest, feigning pain. “Low blow, Y/n, low blow.”

“Whatever, old man,” you say, leaning back. “How long are we working with the BAU?” you ask, glancing over your sleeping teammates.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says. Then he lowers his voice and whispers in your ear, “You’ve caught the BAU’s dear boss’s eye, I think.”

You giggle (you giggle) and say, “No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I guess he’s cute,” you say in a whisper. “But that’s a conversation for the morning. I’m exhausted.”

You look over at Hotch, writing his report and talking quietly with Rossi. You wonder what’s going through his mind.

“You know she wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life mourning her,” Rossi says quietly. Hotch nods.

“I know that, I do. I just, I wish there was a sign.”

Rossi puts his hand on his friend's shoulder. “There will be.” He looks over at you, eyes shut, head on Holmes’ shoulder. “Meanwhile, you’ve been looking at her quite a lot.”

“What?” Hotch says, taking in a shaky breath.

Rossi chuckles, shrugging. “I think you know.”

~~~oOo~~~

“Hey, sleep today, but tonight you should come out with us,” Garcia says as you gather your things from your makeshift desk. You landed at 4:30 in the morning, and after finishing your paperwork, you were ready to sleep for the entire day.

You hesitate, then shrug. “Sure, why not?”

Garcia squeals, “Yay!” You laugh and nod.

“What time, and where?”

“How about I pick you up?” she suggests, and you nod.

“Actually, that would be great,” you say. She smiles, and leaves you in your office. Your daughter calls you as you're leaving the building, and you meet Hotch in the elevator.

“Mommy!” the little girl cries happily into the phone.

“Hi, hon! I’m on my way home right now, what are you doing up this early, baby?”

She giggles. “Auntie and I have a surprise for you!”

You freeze. “Haley, what did you do?” You feel Hotch stiffen beside you, but you don’t ask him about it.

“Nothing! Bye, mommy!” she says before you can tell her no, and she’s hung up.

“Children,” you mutter. Hotch nods.

“What’s your kids name?” he asks, barely looking at you.

“Haley,” you say. “She’s four next month.” He hums, and you ask, “Do you have any children?”

“Yes,” he says. “Jack. He’s seven.”

The elevator door opens, and you almost think you’re disappointed.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks, and you nod.

“Yes, thank you.”

The walk is silent.

“See you tonight?” you say.

He shakes his head. “Probably not.”

“Why not? Could be fun.”

He hesitates, meeting your eyes. Then, he says, “I’ll think about it.”

You smile, getting into your car. “Have a good one, Hotchner.”

“You too, Y/l/n.”

~~~oOo~~~

Haley is asleep by 8:00, your sitter is at your door by 8:15, and Garcia is at your door at 8:30.

Black dress, red lipstick. It isn’t too fancy, but if Hotch shows up, you’ll look nice. (Not that you care, of course. As far as you know, he’s married).

“You look so pretty!” Garcia says once you’re in her car.

“Thank you! You too!” you say, and then she starts telling you stories from the team. How Reid will go off about Halloween, how Prentiss faked her death, how Morgan and her flirt endlessly (which you picked up on), how Hotch’s son, Jack, is doing soccer.

You, in turn, tell Garcia about Wilson’s wife, Mary, and how Holmes once fell down a well while working on a case and was stuck for an hour and a half, and how Greg has this terrible habit of accidentally befriending the worst people.

You reach the bar laughing, and you find the table everyone (except Hotch) is sitting at. You and Garcia join them, and conversation becomes easy. Until, a few minutes after your arrival, Hotch takes a seat beside you.

“Hi,” he says, and everyone greets him.

“We were just talking about how we could run off and buy a house in the woods and live a secluded life together for the rest of time,” Prentiss says, and you let out a laugh.

“I’m sure that will work out wonderfully, especially with three children,” Hotch says.

“And the house has to be big, there’s a lot of us,” you add.

“And we work for the government, they’ll be suspicious if we all quit at once,” Greg says.

Spencer shrugs. “Not to mention the cost of living would be expensive, and we’d be out of a job. Plus, there’s no one to replace us.”

You lean over and boop Spencer’s nose. “We’re irreplaceable.”

“Don’t count on that, Strauss has been after my ass since the moment I stepped in that office,” Hotch says.

Rossi mutters something into Hotch’s ear, and your stomach does backflips. JJ turns to you. “Is Haley still into dance?”

You shake your head. “That was a short lived hobby. I think this week it’s art.”

“Henry is the same way! He doesn’t stick with one thing for more than a few days,” she laughs. “Hotch, what about Jack?”

“He’s stuck with soccer pretty consistently, but he also can’t decide if he likes drums or drawing on the wall more.”

You and JJ laugh. “Where’s Will?” you ask JJ, raising an eyebrow.

“He stayed home with Henry, but he sends his love.” JJ looks over at Hotch. “I presume Jack is with Jessica?”

“Yes,” he says, huffing a laugh, his eyes darting to yours. “I really should be paying that woman.”

“Is Jessica not your wife?” you ask, glancing from JJ to Hotch. They share a look, and JJ turns to Spencer, picking up on his and Emily’s conversation. Your attention is now fully on Hotch, who sighs.

“No, Jessica is my sister-in-law,” he says, and he opens his mouth to say more, but then hesitates. “My wife died a few years ago. Her name was Haley.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “Oh, oh I’m so sorry.” You meet his eyes, but he shakes his head. “My husband died a few years ago too. Right before Haley was born, actually,” you say, laughing humorlessly.

He nudges your shoulder lightly, then says, “Look at us, two widowed single-parents.”

“A pair we make, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, and he nods.

~~~oOo~~~

As you’re leaving the conference room after a briefing, Holmes pulls you aside. He watches as everyone leaves the room, and says, “This will be our last case with the BAU.” You blink at him, disappointment filling you.

“Why are you telling just me?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Holmes shrugs, looking out the conference room window. You follow his gaze to where Hotch and Morgan are talking in front of Hotch’s office. “Because you might want to shoot your shot before you never see him again,” Holmes says. You try to ask him what he means, but he’s already left the room.

You sigh, picking up your things and getting your bag, going to stand beside JJ and Emily as you make your way out to the jet. You trail a step behind them, your mind racing. What did Holmes mean by that? Your heart dropped a little bit at the thought of never seeing the team you had been working with for the past six months ever again. Surely, you will. JJ and you are close friends, and you had grown close with the rest of the team too, right?

“What’s on your mind?” You startle at the sound of his voice, looking up to see Hotch looking down at you, his brows drawn together.

“Oh,” you say. “Nothing.”

“You can’t lie to a profiler.”

You laugh. “Holmes told me this is our last case together,” you tell him, looking ahead, where JJ and Emily are boarding the plane.

“It is,” he says. His voice is even, steady, normal. There is nothing to suggest he is happy for your departure or upset about it. He is neutral.

“Shame,” you say, “I was sort of getting used to working with you guys.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you board the plane. You sit in your usual seat and he sits beside you; that’s how it always is. It feels wrong, today.

“It’s not like we’re just going to disappear, though,” Hotch says to you, just so you can hear. “You know where I work after all.” You huff a laugh, your heart rate increasing more than you’d care to admit. “On top of that, we have no idea how long this case will last. Maybe it goes horribly wrong and you’re stuck with me forever.”

“We better solve it quickly, then,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. He scoffs, and you shake your head. “But, really. I’ll miss working with you.” After a second, your eyes widen and you add, “All.”

He nods, shifting in his seat. “I’ll regret no longer having your team’s expertise.”

“Our teams are good together, for sure.”

~~~oOo~~~

After the case, you try not to look too blue as you step onto the jet for the last time. You and Holmes are the first ones on the jet, and when you sit across from him instead of your usual spot, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you know where we’re going next? What our next assignment is?” you ask. He shakes his head, and you look down at your hands.

“We won’t be travelling with the BAU,” he says, “but we will be working at headquarters for the meantime.”

“That’s going to be an adjustment,” you say, looking over at him. “Watching the team leave, not going with them.”

He nods. “But at least you’ll get to see him.”

“You mean them,” you say, furrowing your brow. “The team.”

As the words leave your mouth, Hotch walks on board. He nods at the two of you, his facial expression blank. He sits in his usual spot. He looks small.

“No, I said what I meant,” Holmes said, shrugging. “Maybe you just didn’t want to hear it.”

You don’t reply, looking over to where Hotch is sitting. You look to Holmes for permission, and he nods at you. You make your way over to Hotch, sitting next to him.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” he says back.

A beat.

“So—” you both say at the exact same time.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You go first,” he says.

“I’m going to miss you. The whole team,” you add, “but especially you.”

He flushes, giving a sort of smile as he shifts in his seat, nodding to you. “I’m going to miss you too.” You hold your breath, and he says, “But I figured, you know, there’s not really any reason we can’t still see each other. After this. We could get coffee sometime.”

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his. “Are you asking me out, Hotchner?” you whisper quietly, jokingly.

“Maybe,” he says, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “If you say yes.”

“Well,” you say, looking up and tapping your chin. You meet his eyes, and he’s staring at you like your next words are the most important thing in the world, “I would be an idiot if I said no.”

He smiles, big and wide like you’ve never seen and it goes straight to his eyes. “Then it’s a date.”

“Then it is,” you say, smiling right back at him.

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