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slu7formen · 16 days

Note

Luke Castellan request here! When reader, who loves fashion, asks her boyfriend to come to her cabin so she can model for him but instead of the usual dresses or skirts, it's lingerie 🤭

girl you filfthy

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: dom but lovesick luke, spanking (literally once), mention of oral s3x, p in v, teasing, finger sucking

₊˚⊹♡

You gnawed on your thumbnail, a nervous but thrilling energy buzzing through you like a live wire. You occasionally looked out the window, waiting for your boyfriend to show up, and after what felt like an eternity, a knock on the door shattered the silence. You practically flung the door open, a wide smile plastered across your face.

There stood Luke, your boyfriend, framed by the golden afternoon light. His initial smile faltered when he saw you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Hey, love" he greeted, his voice laced with concern. "What's with the coat? It´s like a hundred degrees outside"

"Oh, this?" you quipped, playfully kicking your foot out behind you. "This is just part of the surprise." Your voice held a teasing tone, causing a small laugh from your boyfriend.

Luke didn´t question it. He knew how much you adored fashion, your passion fueled partly by your heritage as Aphrodite's daughter. Your surprise fashion shows every couple weeks, held in the privacy of your cabin, were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

And you just loved the attention he´d give you. The joy on his face, the raw desire in his eyes when he saw you in those outfits, fueled your passion even further. This time, however, you had something different planned. Something you haven´t tried before.

You grabbed his hand. "Come on" you chirped excitedly, pulling him inside with you as you closed the door.

Walking towards the bed, you gestured for Luke to sit comfortably. With a sigh, he sank down onto the cushions, stretching out his long legs and letting out a contented groan. "Alright," he conceded, feigning impatience. "Show me”

"Patience" you sang, leaning down to leave a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips. It already left Luke wanting more, a hint of the sensuality that awaited him.

Pulling back, you placed your hands playfully behind your back. "Close your eyes" you commanded.

“What?” he chucked.

"You heard me" you continued. "Close your eyes, Luke."

He couldn't help but laugh a little. You'd had your fair share of surprise fashion shows in this cabin, and never once had you asked him to close his eyes. He had seen you in everything – from flowy maxi dresses to chic skirts and playful jumpsuits. Yet, here you were, adding a layer of mystery to the whole event.

“No” he simply said then, shrugging his shoulders.

You stomped one foot lightly on the floor. "Luke!" you whined, your voice laced with mock frustration.

"Nuh-uh" he countered, shaking his head with a grin.

"Please" you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him in a way you knew he couldn't resist. "Just this once. Close your eyes for me?"

His smile softened. "Baby, why the big secret?" he asked, genuine curiosity flickering beneath the amusement in his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you in everything already. A beautiful dress, a sexy skirt, shorts, a blouse— whatever surprise you have, it's gonna look fabulous on you."

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back a mischievous grin. "It's none of those things, silly" you hinted.

"Is it that bikini you were freaking out about?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. He remembered you whining weeks ago about forgetting a stunning pink bikini you'd just bought.

“No” you whined again. “But thanks for reminding me”

"Sweetheart" he started, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm not closing my eyes. Just do your thing, like you always do” he said, laying back on his hands onto the mattress.

You sighed. This boy, you thought. “Fine” you finally conceded.

Luke watched you with a growing curiosity as your fingers got rid of the little fabric-like-belt that hugged your waist and kept the coat closed. He couldn't help but admire the way you moved, a subtle sensuality that was familiar and electrifying.

With a delicate movement, you untied it and let the coat fall open, cascading down your shoulders and pooling at your feet on the ground, revealing the outfit you'd been hiding beneath.

Luke stopped breathing. A choked sound, something like a whimper, escaped his lips, his hand instinctively flying up to cover his mouth.

You stood before him in a set of lingerie, a vision of breathtaking beauty. The set was a masterpiece of pink lace and whisper-thin silk, designed to ignite a fire in his heart. It clung to your curves like a second skin, strategically leaving just enough to the imagination to set his mind ablaze.

The fabric seemed to map the contours of your body with exquisite precision, contrasting beautifully with the golden necklace hanging from your neck. Every lace pattern, every curve emphasized by the design, was a feast for his eyes. The details overwhelmed his senses. Delicate bra straps adorned your shoulders, adorned with tiny bows that matched the ones strategically placed at the apex of your thighs. The lace traced the outline of your body, highlighting your best features in a way that sent shivers cascading down his spine.

He felt momentarily paralyzed. His eyes followed the curve of your hips, of your breasts, where the fabric skimmed your skin, barely there and yet somehow holding everything in place. His mind raced with a million thoughts, none of them coherent.

His cock started to hurt against his pants, tightening and throbbing and more than ready for attention.

A slow smile, as confident as it was mischievous, spread across your face. You knew the effect you were having. So you decided to break the delicious silence. Casually placing your hands on your hips, you tilted your head at a playful angle. "So," you finally said, "What do you think, babe?"

Luke's predicament was comical. His eyes darted back and forth like a trapped animal, taking in every inch of your exquisite form. His mind, usually sharp and focused, was a tangled mess. The hand that had previously covered his mouth now rubbed his face in frustration as he groaned. You giggled softly, a faint blush crept up your own cheeks.

It finally stopped over his eyes as if to shield himself from the overwhelming image. "Are you trying to kill me?" he finally wheezed, his voice devoid of its usual smooth charm. It sounded more like the desperate gasp of a man who'd just run a marathon in the desert heat.

You pretended to think of an answer. "Maybe a little" you admitted.

He dropped his hand, eyes roaming around your body once again. But Luke tore his gaze away for a moment, locking eyes with you. His gaze held yours for a beat before his body finally seemed to catch up with his mind.

He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. You stood perfectly still with your arms on your sides, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. A mix of anticipation and nervous excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He approached you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He then stopped just inches from you. His hand reached out to yours, slowly tracing a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Twirl around for me" he whispered, his voice thick with need.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile. You couldn't hold back the amusement bubbling within you. He was completely captivated, a delicious side effect of your surprise.

But you played along, your smile softening as you held his hand properly. You lifted your hand and Luke´s above your head, mimicking the movement of a dancer as you twirled with a slow, and deliberate spin.

Luke watched you, mesmerized, his eyes following your every move. The dip of your back, the lack of fabric there. The way the little piece of clothes exposed your ass, making him clench his free hand in a fist to prevent himself from touching you like he wanted. He looked like a man possessed, his breathing ragged, his gaze devouring every inch of you.

"Wow" he finally managed, the word escaping his lips in a breathless sigh. It was a simple word, but the way he said it was enough. You had left him speechless, officially.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

He seemed to choke on his saliva. "Like?" he echoed, the word barely a squeak. His hands, warm and calloused, reached for your hips. He squeezed gently, twice. His fingers dipped under the delicate lace on the sides of your hips, the rough contrast against your soft skin sending a delicious shiver down your spine. "Baby, I—" he started, his voice thick with desire. But he cut himself off, a breathless laugh escaping his lips.

"Can't speak?" you teased, leaning closer, your lips hovering a tantalizing breath away from his.

“I can´t think” he admitted. His hands roamed further, exploring the curve of your waist.

You stand on your tip toes, brushing your lips against his. You feel his hands tightening its grip on your waist, pulling you in ever more, your body pressed against him. "What do you want to do with me, Luke?" you whispered, your voice laced with a seductive challenge.

He no longer bothered with words. Instead, his strong hands took a sudden grip on your thighs, just below your ass, as he lifted you effortlessly off your feet. Your legs wrap unconsciously around his waist and your arms across his neck as you let out a soft laugh. You found yourself face-to-face with him, his gaze devouring yours with intensity before he took a grip on the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours.

With long steps, he walked backwards until he felt the bed against the back of his legs, softly sitting down on the mattress as you properly sat on his lap. He wouldn´t let you breath, constantly stealing the air from your lungs as he kissed you hungrily, messily. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip constantly, tempting to bite.

You let out a soft moan against Luke´s lips when one of his hands smacks down on one of your ass cheeks, then gripping on the red flesh.

“Do we have time?” he asks breathlessly against your lips.

“We always do” you reply.

Sex with Luke was a filled with passion and intensity, each encounter a crescendo of pleasure that left you both breathless and wanting more, each encounter better than the last.

Luke's dominance was a force to be reckoned with, his touch both tender and commanding as he explored every inch of your body. He reveled in the sight of you clad in that tantalizing lingerie, his desire burning brighter with each passing moment.

With a hunger that matched your own, Luke lavished attention on you, his lips and hands mapping every curve, every contour. He teased a lot, his fingers dancing over the fabric, snapping it, twirling it, each movement growing the wetness in between your legs.

His mouth finding every sensitive spot. Your cries of ecstasy echoed through the cabin as his tongue lapped over your cunt, with your fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged ever so often. The sounds were wet, dirty, grotesque even, but that’s just how Luke was; so desperate for you that he didn’t even think what he was doing, just focusing on what made you feel good.

As you straddled him, your bodies moving along, Luke fought to hold back the pleasure that threatened to consume him. But with each roll of your hips, each gasp that escaped your lips, his control slipped further and further away.

"O-oh, fuck" he groaned. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession, his hips meeting yours with a primal urgency that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

With the afternoon sun casting golden rays through the windows, you both knew that discretion was key. But as your moans threatened to betray you, Luke's hand found its way to your lips. He didn’t need to ask.

Your lips wrapped eagerly on his thumb, the rest of his fingers gripping on your jaw.

"So needy, sweetheart" he whispered, his voice a deliciously sinful melody that sent shivers down your spine. "So needy for my cock, huh?"

Luke ravaged you, his cock slamming into you with a force that bordered on brutality, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the cabin like a primal drumbeat.

It felt almost animalistic. He never got rid of your clothes —if you could call it ‘clothes’—, his forehead shining with sweat, his chest red and lips parted just inches away from yours. You were his weakness, and having you like this, hopping on his cock frenetically and wearing something that was just for him… it drove him mad.

“You’re mine. All mine, right?” he asked, tilting his head. You knew he was close, by the way his hands now gripped on your ass, letting him take full control of the roll of your hips, occasionally pulling at the sides of your thong. You struggled for a bit, your movements becoming as sloppy and as messy as his, less precise, but you managed;

“Yes. Yes, Luke, I’m yours”

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lackadaisycats · 1 year

Note

I’m so sorry if you’ve already answered this somewhere, but how do you design your characters?

I’ve been trying to make an OC from the prohibition era and it turns out there’s basically nothing to work with for men’s outfits, so I’m curious how you made this many that look unique and fitting to the characters

There is so much to work with, though! You will tend to find more of a focus on variety in women's fashion, but there is still quite a lot of menswear to ogle too. I suppose it's just a matter of searching out ideas and inspiration in the rights corners. Here are a few suggestions:

Old Clothing Catalogues -

Collections from Sears-Roebuck and other popular clothing retailers are pretty easy to find compiled into relatively inexpensive books, or just floating online.

A fair bit of it is in the public domain now.

--Here's an entire 1922 catalogue of stuff to flip through.

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Contemporary Artwork -

Some phenomenal illustrators were working in this field amidst the "Golden Age of Illustration" and featured prominently on the covers of magazines and on the ads inside. There was a lot of emphasis on fashion.

Collier's and The Saturday Evening Post are a couple of the more prominent and easily searchable resources. The costuming on the cover art always has a lot of personality.

There's Rockwell, of course, and it's almost impossible to go wrong with J. C. Leyendecker. He's probably best known for his Arrow Collar ad art, but even his sock ads are like…

There were numerous other amazing and influential illustrators working at the time too. Here's a list of some of them. Here's a bonus Henry Raleigh featuring some of his fabulously-dressed people.

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Blogs and Articles -

There are so many of them! If you want historical accuracy, be wary of write-ups pulling all of their references from film and television. There's nothing wrong with using those for inspiration if you aren't too concerned with historicity, but there are some pretty comprehensive and well-researched things out there with more of an eye on actual fashion history too:

--Gentleman's Gazette - What Men Really Wore in the 1920s

--The Fashionisto - 1920s Men's Fashion

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Digital Collections -

There are numerous digital historic image collections stemming from universities, museums, libraries, and the government that are free to peruse too.

--The Metropolitan Museum has a searchable catalog of exhibits that includes fashion and photos

--Here's some things from the New York Public Library

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Photos at Large -

If you aren't sure where to start, image searching for any of Hollywood's early celebrities will typically turn up a bevy of production stills and promotional photography featuring a variety of fashions. Here's a random Getty images search for Harold Lloyd. A lot of standard 3 piece suits, but a lot of stuff with added character too.

Photography was generally quite accessible by the 1920s, though, and you can find a lot of authentic photos of people from all walks of life, out in the wild wearing all sorts of clothes.

This is by no means the limit to the resources available, but hopefully it'll provide some leaping-off points for designing looks for your characters!

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pedge-page · 3 months

Text

Plushies 6 - MooMoo

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plushies Series Masterlist but Can be read as standalone

Summary: you surprise Joel for your 2 year anniversary by being the fuckable plushie tonight.

Warnings: literally 99.9% smut. Unprotected sex (she is on the pill but they’re playing with the idea of it failing), BREEDING KINK, pregnancy kink, plushie milk sucking (? You’ll see); nipple pumps, nipple play, nipple orgasm, boobjob, oral m-receiving, squirting, cream pie, belly bulge, no breastfeeding but Joel has a breastfeeding kink (obviously!), Daddy kink, spitting, bimbofication, lots of cow talk, praises you and degrades you, cringe ass language overall for these horny fucks

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It's getting pretty bad now that every time you see your pile of plushies in the room, your panties dampen. And you can’t really avoid them because Joel’s been adding to the mountain of stuffed animals with every excuse to get you a gift.

And then outright making you cum on them before he’s ripped the tag off.

You suspect Joel also gets equally as hard by them too, with all the interesting things he’s been sharing since starting your Plushie-sex journey. He’s pretty quiet and reserved any other time, even during regular sex. But when all your little beady stuffed animals start getting involved…

You’re startled by a gentle knock at the door. “You okay in there, sweet pea?”

“Mhm! I’m almost ready!”

You both just got back from a fabulous date—ready to seal the night with passionate sex. And you’ve planned the perfect 2 year anniversary gift for him.

You stare in the mirror in your new “outfit” to surprise Joel’s loins: naked, save for a spotted felt ear headband, a leather collar with a big golden bell dangling from your neck, knee high white and black spotted stockings, and a slutty garter body harness speckled in black splotches. The straps dip and curve over your hips with cute ribbons on the waist, snaking under your soft parts, accentuating your breasts, tummy, thighs, ass—everything that Joel finds bitable.

^photos + product by GlamourIsTheEndGame on Etsy

When you finally walk out into the bedroom with all the might your tiny little harness could muster, Joel’s eyes finally land on you. You smile at him with a sultry, pretty, and far from innocent smile.

"I was thinking maybe I could be your plushie for tonight,” you say, pushing your breasts out with your arms drawn tight, and shaking a little so he can see them sway and hear the jingle of the bell bounce over your collarbone.

Ok, so you know the scenes in Tom&Jerry where Tom sees a female cat, and his eyes bug out cartoonishly and jaw falls down to the ground?

Yeah, that’s Joel right now.

His jaw is so slacked it might unhinge itself. Eyes straining because they can’t go any fucking wider, and his pupils literally so blackened, you wouldn’t know he had baby brown eyes.

You’re standing there very expectedly, waiting.

Waiting.

… waiting.

Say something you kinky bastard, damnit NowILookLikeAFool—!

Your nerves are starting to curl in on themselves...maybe you don’t look as sexy as you’d hoped...

“Um…if… if you don’t like it—I mean if you wanted to pick up a stuffie instead…”

The man takes advantage of your brief embarrassment and jumps you, shoving you against the wall and caging your legs around his hips.

“Oh!”

You whimper as the unmistakable bulge of his package presses hungrily, slipping past the little string and nudging your wet clit.

He glues his lips to yours, devouring your tongue. It’s extra hungry, extra needy tonight than usual. His lips twitch with the rumbling growl reverberating deep in his chest.

“You’re so fucking sexy holy fucking shit baby-jesusssssss look at you— fuckfuckfuck I’m so lucky, luckylucky bastard—FUCK ME—you’re mine? You’re actually fucking mine????”

You giggle, confidence surging again as his hands struggling to grab every bit of you all at once. Holding you captive nonetheless, eyes raking over in wonder and astonishment.

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you hum sensually. You grab his hands and bring them to curl along your harness, under the straps to feel your skin all hot and tingly. Begging for his touch.

“Happy fucking Anniversary to me.”

Joel scoops you up and sits on the bed, immediately having you straddle him. You grind down on his tent poking up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your thighs when he feels the flutter of your folds.

He knows you feel as sexy as you look.

“Gonna be my cow slut tonight, huh? You know what good little cow sluts do?”

“Suck cock?” You ask cheekily, preparing to sink down to your knees to pleasure him with your mouth.

He lets out a happy sigh. You’re ready to move, your teeth sucking in your lower lip, but he stops you, instead choosing to pin you closer to his body. His voice drops an octave:

“They birth and they milk.”

They—what? “Um—come again?”

“Breeding, baby. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”

He knows you’re on the pill, so it’s not like you’re really trying to get pregnant…but the thought of getting knocked up tonight sends a particularly dangerous chill down your spine. He never uses a condom so the chances are still….there. Every night. Each time he blows his fat load deep inside you; like a good little cumdump, he says.

Why not indulge his fantasy tonight?

“You wanna breed me, Daddy?” You tease, hips swaying along his clothed member, dancing along your slit.

“Mmmm, yeahhh. Shit, baby. You’d look so good pregnant. And these—“ he grits his teeth, fingers pinching the straps that circle your mounds, watching them squish together, “—Are gonna fill up with so much milk, gonna feed me with your delicious cunt and sweet milk 24/7.”

You want to slap the smug look off his face, but now’s not the time. It’s time to get those pouty lips on your breasts and the cock in your cunny.

“Better start getting them open so I can satisfy that big thirst of yours.”

On cue, his lips wrap around your nipples, kneading your tits in his big rough hands. You start bouncing steadily along his cock. He’s domineering and digging into your skin harshly, teeth overly excited and sinking into your pebbled nips while he grinds up against your heat.

He’s biting and sucking so hard, asking-PLEADING-for your milk.

Milk that is definitely not there!

"Ouch! Joel I'm not going to give you milk, we’re just—playing—I’m not actually pregnant!"

But the THOUGHT of you exactly like this but stuffed full of a baby, just imagining your tits all round and belly bursting, the garter harness pulling tight against your skin and your tits poking out with that big heavy swell of your tummy making you look like his own breeding stock.

Desperate whines rush out of his mouth in a string of babbling: “I can get ya pregnant, please? Pleasepleaseplease darling let me put a baby in you— breed ya so good, just look at ya, could get ya knocked up, just think how cute you'd look gettin' all round with my calves grown in that tumtum. Fuck! what a sight, showing off to everyone our hard work breeding, evidence of our love making, and these titties would just swell n get all heavy with all the creamy delicious milk ya could give me like the best momma n—“

Your palm splats against his mouth to shut him up. “Slow down, cowboy. We aren’t having a real baby any time soon. We don't even live together yet..."

"Then move in with me,” he proposes without hesitation.

You …blink for a moment. His mouth hovers over your breast again but you drag him up to look you in the eyes—so you know he's not just fucking around.

“Really?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do we still have separate homes? I'm here all the time anyway. Plus, takin' care of all those plushie pets must be exhausting on your own, they're partially my kids anyway so.”

"You really want to live together?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do.”

You and Joel were a ‘take it one day at a time’ trusting kind of love, but right now as you stare into his heart-shaped eyes, you can see your whole future together. The kind of earth shattering reality that’s never been more clear and more desirable than this moment.

“I—“

“Don’t gotta give me an answer right now. Wanna ask ya again when we’re—less horny. So you know I’m bein’ serious.”

You grin and kiss him.

“Show me a good anniversary night and I’ll give a good thought-over.”

“Oh babygirl,” he tuts. “Think you were gonna be the only one showin’ me a good time? I got ya something too, sweetheart. Gonna go perfect with ya cow slut theme ya got goin’ on.”

You don’t know what he could possibly have that could “match” your very specific cow themed sex outfit—

Unless its more cows.

So when he sits you on the bed, stumbling over his shoes because he can’t take his eyes off you, Joel equally surprises you with a box of cow themed gifts—little calf beanie babies, which are conveniently jerry-rigged to two separate nipple pumps with their little snouts pointing towards the suction cups, and a cow plush toy that has a compartment in the top to pour milk in, complete with rubber “practice” utters for farmer kids to learn milking.

“I swear, I had no idea you were gonna be dressed as slutty cow momma for me. I just—saw this shit online and thought my girl needed to be drinking some cow titties when I fuck her swollen cow tits.”

“We’re so in sync,” you muse, shaking your head with an amused smirk.

Its honestly should be... kinda concerning.

He sits back next to you on the mattress, shoving some of your animals off the edge. You instinctively crawl atop his thighs again, and his hands settle once more protectively around your waist. You stare down at him, his sinful lips practically begging to get sucked while that lidded lustful gaze lulls you in a trance. The Joel Miller spell is wordlessly working on you again—and you know you’re gonna be cracking and doing anything this man says within a few shorts minutes.

You beam at each other tenderly, unable to help the genuine happy crinkle at your lips as you kiss him softly.

Then it starts:

"Can ya moo for me?"

You roll your eyes. Not quite doing anything he says so soon. “Fuck no I'm not doin that shit again for you. You want a farm, go get one yourself."

"Please Angel?" He plants wet kisses along your jaw before giving two fat ones on top of your breasts.

"Still no."

He groans, but continues to nip at your breasts like a scolded child. "Can I fuck your big mommy milkin' cow titties?”

“There is no milk!” You snap. You’re ready to throw the whole idea away, but his persistent hold around your waist and cock nudging your throbbing puss is making it difficult to resist him for long.

His big brown chocolate lab eyes bleed into your horny little soul. “C’mon, MooMoo, for Daddy?”

“I am NOT your MooMoo—“

He jingles the bell dangling from your neck. “Ya’sure sound like my MooMoo.”

you clench your fist around his shirt and take a deep breath. "Fine, Fine! Whatever."

"Say it."

"You can—ugh—fuck my big... mommy milking cow titties." You face feels so hot with embarrassment, but Joel purrs with such satisfaction that you feel even WORSE how much you don't hate it.

Since when did the double entendre of being called his "kitty" and "puppy" when Joel fucks you and your animal themed plushies become his "moo moo girl"?

He grins with such a dirty, perverted look about him. Continues to kiss over your mounds, massaging the muscles in your back so you don’t notice when he bends over you to grab his homemade breast pumps.

He looks at you sideways with expectant hope in his eyes.

You roll your eyes again. Of course he can’t just get a normal titjob and blow his load in your mouth. There’s always some fucking thing else you gotta do. But with the way his cock pulses under your drooping pussy, you decisively snatch it from his hands and get to work just so that he’ll call you his slutty cow again.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, rubbing along your hips excitedly. He holds them in your hand and exhales hot air over the cups so they aren’t cold against your skin.

The clear tubes are narrow, obviously meant to resemble that of utters rather than actually breastfeeding from a bottle. You stick them on each tit, and very quickly Joel is pumping the little hand squeeze that starts to suction the small space of air into the connecting wire.

You gasp at the sensation. Slowing latching on, the small of your breasts are pointing inward towards the pumps, sticking up on their own now as Joel continues to suck the air out.

You hiss a strangled moan. The sensation isn’t—bad. It’s like an invisible hand is dry vacuuming your pebbles.

“Fuck—fuck look at that,” he growls. “Your nipples are sooooooooooo fucking suckable right now.”

You look down and see their hardened state reaching out into nothing. As more of your flesh and tissue gets sucked in, pressing tightly, trying to fill the small space, the pain mixes with pleasure. Joel’s continually nipping at your chest with lidded eyes glued to the scene helps spread the multiple sensations your body is feeling.

“There’s not gonna be any milk,” you warn again, shifting uncomfortably in his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to a particularly suffocating phase of tightness in your breast.

He casts a sorrowful grin before yanking the pumps off together with a loud SCHMOP.

You screech unexpectedly, rolls of pleasure sparking through your chest, up to your brain then right down to your tummy and cunt, your eyes rolling back as you collapse forward on to him.

You’re both quiet for a moment save for your heavy pants. Until you feel a wetness growing on his pants.

“Joel—did you—?”

He laughs out, “No baby, that was all you.”

Your cheeks go warm in embarrassment, looking down to confirm that you had actually squirted onto his jeans just from getting your nipples suctioned.

“Didn’t know ya titties were so sensitive…” he goads.

You shake your head and nudge it into his neck—because you didn’t know you could squirt just from getting your breasts suctioned either.

“Shhh, I know. I know baby, just breathe. Little titties are so sore, but we gotta get them ready to start feeding from. S’not my fault you’re just a little slut, so hungry to be a momma—don’t you worry, Daddy Bull is gonna make it happen. Ya can squirt your little juices all you want when I breed your cunt like my own personal livestock.”

You have half the mind to tell him again there is no baby to be feeding any time soon, and you sure as heck weren’t his livestock to be bred, and had nothing to say about "Daddy Bull", but with the harsh throbbing along your nipples, dragging sensitively against his cotton shirt, you don’t care to do anything else but drool and hump your weeping clit against his soaked thighs.

“Let Daddy see his work,” he mumbles into your throat with a kiss.

You sit up again with his assistance.

He groans heartily at the sight of your swollen, redden tips poking from your boobs. “Jesus fuck, MooMoo.” He rubs his thumb over your mounds and you wince away. “They hurt?” He laugh sadistically.

You cover your lips with the back of your palm, unwilling to let him see your delirious heaving. Your pussy throbs desperately for more his unique torture. “You….bastard…”

He soothes over the swollenness, groping your breasts and telling you how they’ll be sore like this all the time when they start filling with milk. How he’s gonna breed you so full of calves you’ll be bursting milk on your own, and he’s gonna lap it all up to keep you happy.

You don’t know why you keep letting him put the pumps back on. He doesn’t try to rip them off like before, but keeps bringing you close with tight compresses before letting air quickly filter in again. The little cow beanies bob up and down with each deep breath you force through your nose, eyes glittering up so innocently. You’re trying to ignore the equal throb in your untouched clit as the ones in your overstimulated perky nips.

Once they’ve swelled to a level of his satisfaction…

“MooMoo…”

“Huh…”

“Time for cow titty fucking.”

He throws you down on your back in the heap of your plushies. Wasting no time pulling his stiff member out of his jeans, he pumps a few times with one hand. Like a professional Joel wraps his belt tightly around your wrists, like a cowboy expertly tying his prize calf he just lassoed in.

You twist your legs to hide the leaking drip of slick sliding down to your ass. Your head leans to the side, arms thrown behind you so you can see him, biting your lips and furrowed brows of want, admiring his physique when he pulls his shirt off with a satisfied grin.

“Fuck me, cowboy,” you hum, shifting your bum up and spreading your legs so he can see your swollen slit twitching up at him.

But he throws your legs down and cages you under him. “I’m makin’ a mess of those god damn Mommy milkers first. Then your cunt gets whatever Daddy Bull has left.”

DaddyBullDaddyBullDaddyBull, you chant in over and over again your dumb little cow brain...

Oh Christ, tonight’s gonna be wild.

You watch him crawl over your body, fisting his leaking member over your chest. You want it, licking your lips in anticipation, pushing your boobs together with your arms to entice him. He twists the bell-collar so its dangling off the side of your shoulder before placing his leaking tip right at your lips, smearing his precum. Moaning at that fucking taste of Joel you’d been craving all day. You lap at the saltiness, begging him to force it deep into your mouth, but all he does is rub it over your lips, your tongue peaking out to get it nice and wet for him.

His cock falls right in the valley as you smoother it with your supple breasts. “Soft titties all mine to play with? You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck them?”

He starts thrusting, suffocating his cock between your tits. With one hand, he’s pulling the harness roped around your body tight like he's riding a God damn horse, the other still possessively pumping the nipple suction cups so they squeeze harder around your precious tits. His balls rub along your sternum while he bounces his hips, rocking back and forth again and again, making a sticky mess of his arousal and your drool all over your chest.

"Angel, imagine how fucking good this is gonna feel when these pups are filled to the brim with Daddy's milk.”

You nod dumbly. “Want you to fill them, Daddy. Want you inside,” you moan. Your head leans forward as you try to suck in his tip each time it poked through your boobs.

Joel lets out a shaky breath, trying hard not to blow his load too soon. Though the sight of your face and cowbell all sticky with his creamy spent has him drawing away quickly, a firm grip wrapped around the base to hold his twitching balls from releasing his seed just yet.

You cry out, tongue chasing his retreating tip.

“You ready to be my little cocksleeve plushie tonight?” He asks, raking his nails over your chest and belly, raised red trails marking you in their leave.

“I’m ready Daddy, fuck me like your dirty whore!”

He spits a fat gob of saliva right on to your slit before rubbing it over with his thick tip. You don’t need the extra lubrication due to how drenched you are, and the sweet squirting you did earlier, but oh how he admires the way it mingles with your juices and slides down your ass.

He rips the cow patterned garter ribbon from the waist buckle and wraps it around your calves, sticking your legs straight, and pulls your ankles taught. You’re completely tied off at his mercy, like cattle being tamed. He hoists your legs straight up in the air, his bare cock grinding against your wet heat.

"D-daddy!"

He leans your straight legs against his left shoulder and peers down over you: messy lipstick, bound wrists pulled together and straight to your stomach, pushing your tits even closer, and the harness does nothing but give each one an immaculate show of perkiness. Paired with the tight press that the pumps are still holding your nipples captive.

He decides to show you some mercy by removing the tubes. He kneads their swollen state at the same time his cock rubs along your slick folds.

“T’Thank you, Daddy Bull,” you puff.

“Good girl. Didn’t even have to remind you,” he praises with gentle strokes of your cheeks. “Your little calf babies are full now. Time for DaddyBull to spend time with Momma.”

You hope he doesn’t see the way your stomach clenches at being called Momma—a kink you’re shelving for much much later.

He’s got such stamina to be still gliding himself along your pussy but not penetrating just yet. Your brows are scrunched together in a plea and desperation, and those little cow ears are flopped back into the mess of softness. Softness that surrounds you, that innocent feel of cute plushy fur and cotton all rubbing against your body below you despite the numbing throb in your breasts and cunt.

He puts his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits, getting them wet before he’s drooping them down your puffy lips, down your breasts each with a squeeze, trailing warmly over your belly before coming to the place where he’s about to impale you.

Your entire body is thrumming with need.

He takes the moment to see how wrecked you already are for him—and to savor your body, knowing he’s gonna breed you so good one day and everything is gonna swell, like a stamp of ownership.

“You’re so fucking breedable,” he whispers in awe of your body. You don’t think he meant to say it out loud, but it turns you on all the more to hear his inner thoughts that would most likely scare away other women.

Not you though. You shutter at the thought of it taking, of making something evident of all the fucking and cum dumping he’s been giving you.

The pornographic gasp you let out as he slides his cock over your folds, between your squished thighs. Your slick lathering his length, prepping him and teasing your clit with long strokes. You whine as his mushroom tip glistens with precum, poking through your thighs then retreating. Getting your hopes up and holding it there sadistically.

"Don't gotta do nothin' tonight for me, sweet pea. Just gotta hold on for the ride."

You're not ready when he latches at your entrance and thrusts in all at once. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he fills your gut with his fat cock, stretching you in the best way only Joel Miller knows.

“Ahhh--ah!—f—f—fuuuccccckkkkkkkk!”

Joel Miller does have a Bull sized cock. More evident now stretching your little hole than you’d ever truly thought before.

The position is so restraining, leaving you no way to move or adjust - just take take take take his pounding. You both groan at the sight of his tip ballooning in your lower belly with each thrust.

He throws his arm over your straight thighs and thumbs over your swelled naval. "Fuuucccckk look at that, look at that!"

"S-ssoooooo deeeeeeppp," you wreathe, lips curling in delirium.

“Yeah-yeah babygirl, gotta stretch you—get ya ready to hold my calves huh? Gotta make room for them to pop out—“

“M—mnot—pregnant,” you rasp hoarsely, eyes closing when he starts angling his hips up and rutting along the gummy part in your cunt.

“I’ll make it happen, don’t you worry your little brain.” He laughs. “You like getting stuffed like your stuffies. Turned you into a proper fuck toy—mm—there we go—but you’re always gonna be my favorite toy to hump, to fill, to own." He forces each word out with each rut. “You’re so fucking good at being a soft whore for me to use, all precious and pretty on the outside. Just another one of these plushie sluts on this bed,” he grunts.

You stick your tongue out dreamily and smile, fingers getting lost in the scattered stuffed animals surrounding you with their soft, fluffy textures and hard or squishy bodies.

It feels really good to have 0 thoughts and just get fucked like a cow plushie.

He kisses your ankles soothingly, almost pathetically attempting to distract you from the sudden lash of his palm slapping against your ass.

“DADDY—shit!” You whimper. He doesn’t love the way you instinctively try to squirm away from him, but with how tied up you are, continually impaled on his throbbing length, you have nowhere to go.

He continues to spank you, the same spot, fingers splayed wide until his reddened print is left etched into your skin "Gotta brand ya baby, make sure everyone knows who owns this body.”

Lewd noises of wet skin slapping, and the little cow bell clanking on your neck fill the room along with your pathetic whimpers and Joel's repressed grunts.

"Yeah? You like daddy's bull cock ramming that tight little Moo Moo pussy?"

“Yea- ohh-f—fuck yes Bull Daddy, cock so good, fuck— nobody stretches me—ah shit!Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes—m’gonna be bred so fucking full Daddy fuck yes!”

“My little cow breedin’ bitch,” he hollers. He tears the cute little cow patterned bow from that had held your calves together and quickly parts your legs, shoving your knees up to his shoulders so you’re in full mating press. He continues thrusting aggressively downward. Despite still being bound by the wrist, your elbows part slightly enough to slot him between your arms, slinking your hands over his neck to bring him closer to you.

"Breed me!" You cry, literally cry. He doesn’t relent his rough thrusts despite cooing your tears welling.

"Gonna take all that bull cum in your slutty womb? Gonna let me put a baby in ya?”

Your walls clench down on him harder in response. The more his thick tip nudges your cervix, the less words you’re able to string together in sentences.

He doesn’t wait for answer—doesn’t think he ever will because he’s dangerously dreamt of impregnating you for so long now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop the day you said yes. Never bringing it up but fuuuccckkk he can’t stop his confessions from tumbling out: “Shit baby, might take this time. Lookin like my breeding stock n shit, gonna plow ya, you'll milk my cummies in your tummies and then—"

"Jesus Joel stop your yapping and FUCKME.”

"Ya gonna moo for me?"

You're moaning more, but with the way your sockets are rolled to their whites, arching up like the exorcist as he rams himself so deep its puncturing your belly, the sound’s eliciting from your mouth coming out as "mmmmmaaaauuuuhhhhhau-huh-hhuhh-huhhhh!"

He chuckles. "Close enough.”

He grabs the moo plush and shoves its utters in your mouth. You tilt your head to the side and your tongue circles around the rubber part. He almost busts his nut at the gorgeous sight below him: your pretty lashes closed as you suckle from the utters, each little swallow of milk going sown your throat. You're so delirious and cock drunk that you don't care about the trickles of cream dribbling down the corner of your lips. Your tits swollen and red, nipples so perked up they may actually start bleeding milk if he were to play with them any more, and your breasts bounce back and forth with each thrust, the jingle of the cow bell clanking loudly with no sense of tune but with all the hymns of his fucking he can give you. He snaps the garter belt strapped around you like reins, free ruling restraints that only make every bit of you even more voluptuous. Your legs are so strong, thick yet securely plastered together by his knot.

Your brows pinch together as your orgasm builds from your belly, making you arch violently against the pillow.

You pull away from the cow to take a gasp of air. Joel sticks his finger in your mouth and swirls it around. You hum in content, letting him make a mess of your drool and leftover milk spilling out, down your chin and cheeks with his thick digits. He yanks it out and licks it clean.

"Taste so fucking goo—“

"Keep fucking me with Daddys Bull cock fuck daddy I wanna get bred so fucking much wanna be your breeding little cum slut daddy fuck yes! You're so fucking huge, splitting my little moomoo pussy in half poundbreedbreedbreed daddy want all your cummies inside!"

"Fucked ya so dumb. All that ‘no baby, no milky talk.’ Shit! Fuck I'm gonna wreck this pussy, my fucking pussy! Nobody comes inside this sweet little womb but Daddy!"

"Just you just you daddy all yours please brand me make me yours! Oh-oh fuck Daddy yes! I’m cumming , I’m cumming so hard Daddy Bull fuck yesyesysssssyesyesyes!!!” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your mouth parts as a silent scream is let out into the air. Joel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his pained gasps while trying to remain sane with your convulsing walls choking his cock, sucking him in so tight he wouldn’t be able to pull out if he pried himself from you. He reaches between you to rub your clit, and your head thrashes about in overstimulation. Hard teeth latch on to your collar bone as you squirt once again all over his cock, streaming to his balls and soaking the bed and poor plushies caught in the crossfire with your naughty juices.

“There’s my slutty girl! Squirt that puss everywhere, want to stain everything with that cunt, my pretty cow girl.”

Joel’s whole body ruts into you like his life depends on it. The bed lurches violently against the wall, plushies falling over the sides like an avalanche while your battered soaked pussy takes the beating of a lifetime from the man who undoubtedly has ruined you and laid claim to your soul for the rest of your life. You hold on with the little strength you have left as he readies to empty his balls into you.

“Shit—shit—oh ff-ffuck baby—Daddy Bull is cummin—gonna breed ya SHIT oh baby,baby,babbyyyy gonna flood ya, you’re gonna take it? Gonna take all that cum—not a drop—haa-left—Gonna knock you up this time-mmmf—fuck! My good cow sluuutt—Baby give it ta me so good, Breed ya full o’me!FUCK!!”

With a final slam, Joel plunges his cock balls deep and shouts into the mattress, pumping his cum as deep into your womb as it could possibly go with thick, fertile ropes flooding every inch of space inside you.

He forces out each harsh, agitated pant into your neck, sweat sticking between the two of you. Your hips are held upright, walls fluttering with each pulse of his dick still unloading inside.

“I love you,” you whisperinto his ear, mind all hazy as you stroke his damp curls. He shudders, relaxing into your embrace, and you welcome the crushing sensation of his body on top of yours.

He pulls away to admire your barely conscious state: stockings all torn up, harness now tattered and straps broken from their belts, the cow-eared headband snapped in half. Bruises and purple markings and love bites scattered all over your skin, your breasts the most damaged and swollen. He wonders how long it will take to fully heal, and how sensitive those little nipples are going to be for the next few days. Most importantly, he can’t tear his gaze away from the beat of your pussy lips struggling to swallow all of his creamy seed.

You gasp out when Joel pushes his cock all the way back in, his cum spilling out the sides and coating you but trapping a good amount inside, leaving it nowhere else to go.

“I Love being your cow MooMoo plushplush,” you hum, wiggling your bum and holding him close.

“How bout this one still?” He grabs the forgotten milker toy and brings the utters between the two of your lips.

Your tongue wraps around one utter and you start suckling the sweetness.

Joel yanks the toy away.

“Show me.”

You open your lips so he can see the pool of milk filled to the brim, spilling over the dips of your cheeks.

He dips his tongue into your mouth and begins sucking out your split-mixed milk, kissing you passionately so you’re both gulping around each other’s tongues.

Drunk. You feel drunk off him. Off the milk.

Eventually he pulls away so you can both breathe.

“I mean it.”

You draw away momentarily, wondering. it takes a moment to process anything that the two of you talked about while his cock still twitches in your cum-filled vagina.

You laugh when it hits you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you—“

“—You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful when you’re pregnant.”

You both pause for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh, I already knew that,” you taunt.

After you sleep for 14 hours straight, you wake up to find your tattered costume is gone, and your body completely naked. You don’t feel as achy as you expected—thanks to Joel probably massaging you in your sleep. Your cunt and breasts, however, are puffy and bruised as hell. You’ll have to restrict sexy time from Joel to just regular, Plushie-free fucking.

Speaking of, there’s an unfamiliar little guy on your bed right under your arm right now: yet another cow plushie, but it’s sooooo much softer, a bit heavier too. You turn it over and switch the little battery pack on, and the animal begins expanding and deflating with gentle breaths, its tummy warm and comforting against your body.

Joel comes in with a cup of tea placed on your bedside before jumping on the Plushie bed. You poke his face.

“Whaaaat!”

"Joel, you know this is for babies,” you say, gesturing to the new cow breathing cow plush.

Right my babygirl.” He smiles proudly, stroking your face.

"No, like actual babies. It’s a breathing soother to help them sleep. Did you not notice what section you were in when you bought it?”

He looks ahead at the wall for a briefly, revisiting the memory. “Ya know what, that might be why the lady asked if it was for a girl, and I said ya my girl. N’ then she asked 'how old' and I told her ya age and she gave me a weird look.”

Your eyes squeeze tight as you fall back in a fit of cackles. “You were literally in the baby section Joel."

"Ain't all these plushies for kids anyway?” He gestures to the pink, purple, frilly, soft, funny faced squish stuffed animals you have on your bed. “What’s the difference?”

You switch the heavy cow animal on again and the cow starts slowly inflating then deflating with each breath.

He gets all amazed like the marvels of today's technology far exceed his imagination. “Holy shit it got a real heart in there! No wonder it cost me 60 bucks.”

“Pretty sure a real heart would cost more than 60.”

“Mmm, cost me even more to keep yours.”

You glance over at Tomm—ahem, Teddy—sitting upright in the corner of the room, the dildo still strapped around his crotch, and at Mr. Oinkers who’s jittery fun was sometimes too much to handle, and at Valentine Puppy that has a permanent white streak in his hair when you tried washing out Joel’s cum, and at every other plush on this bed that has occupied an ever growing space in Joel’s horny head below the waist.

“I don’t love you just cuz of the plushies, you know.”

“Oh? I’ll take them all back then, since ya don’t appreciate—“

“No!” You cry desperately. “I—I love them.” You cold your cow plush close and kiss his head.

Joel curls up next to you and spoons your body. “But I love you too. Just you.”

He hums in agreement. “I know you do. Who else would dress like that just for fun?”

You cringe at the image of the destroyed cow garter that sits helplessly on the floor. Definitely cost waaaaaay more than $60.

“I can’t wait to move in,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Oh—about that.”

You lean back and meet his gaze. Was it a farce? Did he not actually want you to move in? Was it jut to get you excited for sex last night? You already feel your heart shattering, knowing its gonna take more than 60 bucks to put it back together—

“While you were sleeping…I brought all my shit here already. Cancelled my lease this month and packed for weeks. Figured it be easier than making you have to pack all your little fluffy bitches in boxes—”

“Well they wouldn’t go in boxes, they’d be buckled up in seatbelts.”

“Exactly my point. Would have been a nightmare trying to move you.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Um… what if I said no?”

“Oh…” the thought never actually crossed his mind that you’d say no.

You laugh again, kissing his jaw reassuringly. “Kidding, Bull Daddy.”

He grumbles into your back and kisses the back of your head. His big meaty paws rub over your thighs, the little dents from the strap still ghosting your skin, trailing up over your belly that he can’t wait to see swell one day, even if not any time soon, and snaking up to your aching chest—

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking tits.”

10 minutes later, you catch Joel’s cuddling the breathing cow right next to his face, snoring soundly as it exhales next to him. you kiss the tip of his noses and burrow yourself closer to your sleeping giant.

It really does help babies sleep.

- - - -

Notes: this ended up being waaaaaaay longer than I thought holy heck.

Bonus of Joel x Preggo reader thot in the plushies saga

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

#plushies!joel #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #last of us fic

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cheeseceli · 12 days

Text

My first and last

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Gn!reader

Genre: very very fluff, drabble

Summary: as memories come and go, you are reminded of your first and last love

Warnings: reader wears a dress, that's pretty much it

A/n: I finally wrote something for the literal love of my life (best thing I've ever written)

It felt like it was your first date all over again

When Yunho first said he would like to take you out on an official date one day, you thought you were dreaming. How else in the world would your long term crush invite you out? Yet, the shy smile on his lips and the heat rising to your neck were the proof you needed that all of that was real.

You remember how you spent a whole week trying to find the perfect outfit for the oh so special day. Tonight, you were wearing a similar dress to the original one. You smiled at the fond memory. Even after all the years, you still looked pretty much the same. The lovesick smile was still there, stronger than ever.

He took you to a movie theater, recently opened back in that time. The latest movie of your favourite franchise had been released and he thought it was a good idea to take you there. It was, in fact. That evening was the first of so many where he couldn't stop falling in love. Funnily enough the franchise announced a reboot a few years later, the premiere being tonight, and that one good old movie theater would be hosting it.

Your smile was growing each time you remembered something about your first date with Yunho. That evening was almost perfect. Almost. There were only two flaws. You admit they were very silly, but it bothered you back then as you really wanted everything to be perfect. The first one being that even though your dress was fabulous, you had nothing to match it with, not even a single accessory. The second one, the back of your dress was ridiculously hard to button up.

However, you felt like this time would be totally perfect. The former problem being resolved by the beautiful jewel adorning your left ring finger, one which matched your dress incredibly well. The latter being solved by Yunho himself, who came to your shared bedroom right when you were trying to close the back of your dress.

"Need any help?"

The smile that came next couldn't be contained, not when you saw your lover helping to get you ready. He also looked the same: gorgeous with a golden personality. That's how lucky you could get, to call a man like him this your husband.

"Seonghwa is already with the kids. We can go right now."

You nodded, not averting your sight from his eyes not even by a mere second.

"So" he said, a mischievous smile on his face. He still had the loveful gaze even after so many years of looking at you "would you like to go out with me? I heard there might be a new movie you'd like."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: paper rings

Thank you for reading <33

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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brittle-doughie · 3 months

Text

Let’s Get Rolling! | Looking into the Lights, Camera, Action! Event for CROB!

So the movie nerd, Popcorn Cookie, isn’t going to the Chocolate Factory with that golden ticket, but to see the filming site for what Butter Squid Cookie has got cooking up.

Only issue is that the actress is unable to make it to the set, leaving the stunt double, Choco Bar Cookie, to get the lead role! So for the event itself, it’s essentially the exact same event we’ve had for the last few updates, get and do favors as well as combine items for hard mode.

So the special draw event returns from the Wish Camp update, except this time there’s also a surprise exchange shop that allows you to get outfits or designs that you missed in past updates!

Choco Bar Cookie herself is pretty cute, would definitely add her to my wife collection and if her base design isn’t sitting well with you, hopefully her skin more then makes up for it because oh my lord-

Shine Muscat, Habanero, and Blue Slushy Cookie also get skins too. With Popcorn Cookie getting a fabulous skin in part 2!

Buttercream Choco Cookie has finally returned by the Buddy event! Bring your buddies to play the mode to obtain him!

In the Romance stage, who is this lady we’re chasing and how did I get the devs to put her in my game. In the Zombie stage, we meet some familiar walkers, where have I seen them before…?

Overall, they were not lying when they said that this would help a substantial update, there are so many things to look forward to that it might leave you overwhelmed! MicMac has addressed the event repetition in the official discord, hopefully, we can see a return to varied event modes some day.

———————————————————————

Busy chasing your co-star through the stage, following after the one you love was the pinnacle of romantic excitement in the eyes of Butter Squid Cookie!

“Come follow, my love! Have a little encouragement from me!”

She blew you a kiss in the form of a small heart that floated towards you. You went to get it promptly, feeling more encouraged to follow your heart that had your co-star in it! (In the premise of the movie of course)

Butter Squid Cookie was pleased with the results he was seeing so far, such warm love between two cookies that was sure to bring a tear to the eyes of audiences! He had to give you credit, for someone unfamiliar with acting, you were a natural!

But now time for the big moment! You were now supposed to catch your co-star and give each other the declaration of love and then a kiss!

Choco Bar Cookie got a little nervous with that plan, was it really necessary? The kiss part? Why not just a hug, you know? That would get the message across just fine. There was no need to be all theatrical all the time, you know?

Butter Squid saw her suggestion as nonsense, a kiss was the only way to execute the romantic tension flawlessly!

You told your co-star that she made your heart flutter, that no other cookie made you feel this way, that you wanted to spend your life with her.

Your co-star blushed heavily from your words, that was some pretty good on command blushing!

“Oh, my Y/N Cookie! My heart can’t stand being apart from you either! Please, let me be the cookie you love now and forever!”

The two of you leaned in, getting closer and closer, you see her eyes twinkle as she closed them, readying her lips as you did the same…

Before a director chair is thrown between you two!

Scaring you both faraway from each other. Butter Squid looked at Choco Bar with shock as she breathed heavy, having just thrown that chair a second ago.

“Sorry. My hands slipped.”

#brittle speaks #cookie run ovenbreak #cr ovenbreak #crob #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crob x you #crob x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

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thesupreme316 · 5 months

Note

How aew men react to yn being girl version of them

nick wayne x female reader, darius martin x female reader, hook x female reader, action andretti x female reader, dante martin x female reader, Eddie kingston x female reader, ricky starks x female reader

AEW STARS REACT TO: You being them in a different font

Pairings: Nick Wayne x female reader, Darius Martin x female reader, Hook x female reader, Action Andretti x female reader, Dante Martin x female reader, Eddie Kingston x female reader, Ricky Starks x female reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Supreme Speaks: hey yall happy new year! hope everyone is doing well! here is my hc for today, plz enjoy! and remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warning: none i think

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Ricky Starks

Omg does he have a field day with you

But y’all aren’t exactly friends but frenemies

Like on some mean girls type shit

Cause you are the exact same; slick, fabulous, luxurious, and funny

Sometimes you be stumping him with your comebacks

Ricky: At this point, I’ll join the circus

You: You don't have enough talent to join the circus…but then again you are a clown

Cue yall weakly slapping each other

Loves to bicker with you

Hates when other people are bickering with you; will jump to your defense

Eventually, you become the Gunther and Tinka (from shake it up) of AEW

You two frequently share Pinterest boards and give fashion advice to each other

At this point, you two are either color-coordinating or complete opposites in outfits

Will text you and see you as the only person who understands him (in front of Taz, Hook, Big Bill)

Yall go on friendly dates and love to gossip

Ricky: And they were roommates

You: Not the roommates

Ricky: Right?!

Nick Wayne

You’re a sibling to him

Personality wise: you are both shy golden retrievers

THAT IS THE BEST WAY I CAN DESCRIBE NICK

I think yall got along because no one else was around your age that thought the way yall do

Nick was shy about meeting others until he got introduced to you

Now you talk all the time

Loves exploring new parts of arenas or working Christian’s nerves

I can just see him being annoyed at the point that there are two Nicks

I also see Nick’s energy being on low until you come around

THEN HE’S BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS

Hates when people pick on you, and he goes to your rescue

…

Now both of you are pouting in a corner cause yall got your feelings hurt (think of Tamaki from ouran high school host club)

I also think that you would be his personal journal (he’ll tell you everything)

He feels comfortable telling you stuff because he knows you’re gonna keep it

Or you’ll just forget about it and you have to pretend you know what he’s talking about

Darius Martin

YALL ARE SO CUTE

He calls you his reflection

Cause he said looking at you is like looking at a mirror

Yall are the most unproblematic duo ever

Have yall seen fights where people in the background are in their own little world?

Yeah…that’s yall

You two are so unbothered by the drama around you

I feel like he would see you like as a sibling so everything he tells Dante, he tells you

You are on speed dial; he calls you now more than he calls his brother

Secretly Dante’s jealous of the relationship between you and Darius

Asks you to do the simplest of tasks like braid his hair or record his training sessions

I also feel like so many people would think yall are dating the way he treats you

He always holds the door, pulls out your chair, keeps on the inside of the sidewalk, will hold your hand if you want as you two walk

To him, it’s not romantic (it is to me damnit), it’s just him being a gentleman and doing the bare minimum (AS A MAN SHOULD)

Because of him, you raise your standards for men

But it doesn’t feel right without him next to you

Hook

Mans secretly in love with you

I think he would think your personality is refreshing cause he doesn’t see it often in women

At first he thought it was a gimmick or you’re trying to get him to like you

But nope, this is you 100%

Many people think it would be boring between you two

Nope…just comfortable silence

Tbh yall are the real unbothered duo; truly not giving a fuck about anything around yall

Can tell your thoughts just by looking at you

Over time, I think he sees you as a bestie OR SO HE THINKS

Allows you to handle your own business cause he knows you can handle yourself

Is always surprised by how well you know him

He’s just not used to anyone really remembering small details about him

He made sure that you were a part of the Lads now

The group welcomed you with open arms

I think he forgets that you’re in the room sometimes with how silent you are

OOO idea: he teaches you Italian so you two can talk in private in public

He also buys you the same hoodies and sweatpants that he wears…cause yall already take each other’s anyways

Action Andretti

Yall are the Himbo/Bimbo combo (non-derogatory)

…

You share the same braincell

Respectfully of course

Like yall look so cute and cool okay? You guys are sweethearts

BUT JESUS SOMETIMES-

You two are truly in your own world

(respectfully again, don’t take it seriously billy)

Yall are not unbothered but just oblivious to the drama around you two

He pulls out the best jokes for you just to hear you laugh

Yall just get hyper together a lot

I wanna say you two together are very innocent and happy-go-lucky

But it is very balanced between the two of you

Everyone who sees you, can’t help but think that you two are adorable

Listen I think in terms of feelings developing, Andretti is too caught up in trying to make sure that you two are having a great friendship to see if anything can develop

If anything, he’s just happy to have you by his side and he doesn’t want anything to ruin it

Dante Martin

Yall have bff necklaces

Or bracelets

whatever you prefer

Very playful relationship yall have indeed

Dante will tell you everything but not his brother

Dante has see you every day, if not, it’s an off day for him

You two will say the same things at the same time like twins or some shit

I think it’s very surface-level thinking with your friendship

He really does appreciate you and he doesn’t really see you as anything more

If anything, he sees you as a little sister that he is molding to be more like him

Drags you everywhere

Super protective over you

Hates to exclude you

Like with Hook, He made you a part of the Lads

I feel like Dante takes you very seriously in terms of yall’s friendship

There’s never a dull moment with him

Eddie Kingston (one day I really want to do a character/in-depth analysis on him)

Compared to the other men on this list

Eddie would think about you subconsciously and really does see you as another version of himself

And it bothers him to a certain extent

because your attitude, actions, and even the way you talk is just like him

Right down to the stubbornness

Will try to tell you certain things to calm you down or anything but really it’s what he wants to hear himself

I also think he finally gets what everyone sees in him cause he can see it in you (underdog vibes)

He can’t tell if he loves you as a BFF or more

Cause he never really met a woman who has the same strong yet realistic mindset as him

And it makes him feel butterflies

But he really loves your hustle and how quick-witted you are

He also loves how true you are to yourself and how you won’t change for people

Knowing Eddie he rather keep your friendship than lose you entirely

Even though he’s very close to Ortiz, Santana, Mox, and Ruby

You are #1 to him

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sunnysam-my · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel redesign ideas p. 1

Unfortunately I don't really have time to draw rn, but here are some ideas if anyone is looking for inspiration.

THE VEES:

They follow lates trends so they won't stick to the outfits and technologies from the times they died. We even see that Vox changed his screen (head) to more modern, flat TV screen.

Valentino:

He is a moth that realises poison that's basically a date-rape drug. His wings are hidden, looking like a coat, which makes no sense, a cloak, cape or sleeveless coat would look better. He is a pimp who died in 1970s. Val was Hispanic when living. Apparently, he has bad eyesight.

He is supposed to be a moth, but I don't really see it much, and the furr around his neck, that's a part of his body, just looks ridiculous. I would design him after some actual poisonous moth.

Cinnabar moth - The cinnabar is slate-black with two red spots and two pinky-red stripes on the rounded forewings. Its hindwings are pinky-red and bordered with black. The caterpillars feed on poisonous ragwort leaves. The poison from the leaves is stored in the caterpillar's body and remains even when they are an adult. As adult they leak the poison when they need to. Cinnabar moths can be seen flying during the day and night.

Six-spot burnet moth - day-flying moth that flies with a slow, fluttering pattern. It has glossy black, with six red spots on each narrow, but long forewing. They release hydrogen cyanide when attacked.

Personally I would go with Cinnabar moth, but make the spots heart shaped, and leave his inner outfit without the accessories (the suit with the white pants and golden heart belt). I would also leave his general body type but definitely change the neck furr ring, because wtf is that? I would play around with his glasses since he is supposed to have eyesight problems.

[Edit: Actually, I would make him a combo of both moths and make the furr ring his hair, because he is bald without the hat!?!?]

Velvette:

Velv is a fashion designer and critic, she is also an influencer. She keeps the Vees together and their image fresh on the internet. She's a British black woman in her early 30's. Originally her appearance was supposed to be doll-like, but that was changed to 'it-girl' and a 'bad bitch' with a darker aesthetic.

Velvette's outfit is reminiscent of Val's (heart belt, coat with hearts, black stripes on arms) but darker, especially her sleeveless coat that imitates his wings. Since Valentino is already going to be darker (in my idea) and she is a fashion influencer it would make more sense for her to be brighter.

Main thing I would change about her is her skin tone, hair, and Harley Quinn themes left from her old design.

When creating very human like characters it's important to actually get the racial characteristics right. Her ashy skin and "curly" hair just makes it look like they didn't know how to draw a black character. I would give her a different texture, something between 3A and 4B. A hairstyle like heart shaped space buns would be so cool, but even if not, her styl in a poster in the background is already better than the ponytails.

When it comes to her style I would get rid of pom-poms shoes and fingerless gloves. Her outfit for meeting the overlord was pretty okay, but I would change her other outfit. My inspiration would be PidginDoll's design, because he makes fabulous outfits and makeup looks for all bodies, genders and races, but I'll keep the 'goth' (it's not goth, it's just a little bit alt, mostly skulls) theme.

Blue accents like makeup would work great with her brown skin and would reference Vox.

Vox:

I genuinely think he has the best design in the entirety of the show, I would barely change anything. His outfit is similar to Alastor who he is trying to imitate, but he wears a tail suit, which is way more formal and elegant than any other suit, trying to showing he is a better, modern version of Alastor. I've seen some people got rid of his hat and gave him a tail made out a cord for fun, but other than that his design is good. Not too much details and not too little, tells us a lot about the character.

Maybe less stripes, because apparently Viv loves zebras or something. /hj

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #the vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fanart

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queenshelby · 6 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 48: NEW YORK

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Meanwhile, in New York, Cillian attended yet another premiere and, by the time his stylist Maria had finished primping him for the red carpet, he felt drained and exhausted. Just minutes earlier, he had been on the phone with you, chatting, while Maria went through several outfits to choose from and, shortly after you hung up on him, his stylist finally found the perfect shirt to match his suit.

"I think this is it," Maria declared victoriously, holding up a black button-up that shimmered like a spotlight on stage.

"It's see-through. There is no way I am wearing this," Cillian groaned, staring down at the transparent top in Maria's hands.

"Trust me, it will look fabulous," Maria assured him confidently, adjusting the collar for effect. "The lighting will give it an illusion of translucency," she explained, brushing aside his protests and, despite his misgivings, he decided to roll with it.

"I guess we shall see," Cillian conceded with a resigned sigh, accepting Maria's choice reluctantly.

"Great. Now let's take off the neck chain and watch, shall we?" Maria instructed, reaching for Cillian's wrist and whilst he allowed her to remove the black leather strap watch, he insisted that the neck chain would stay on.

"It is a gift from Y/N and I am not meant to be taking it off," Cillian explained, gesturing towards the delicate golden necklace that rested delicately upon his collarbone, holding a Milagros chain.

"Y/N?" Maria repeated, confusion clouding her expression momentarily, before remembering that Cillian had mentioned his significant other before.

"I see she is from South America then?" Maria asked casually, pausing mid-stride to inspect the delicate trinket adorning Cillian's neck. Intrigued, she leaned in closer, squinting slightly to decipher the intricate craftsmanship etched into the gold.

"Yes, and she is rather superstitious," Cillian confessed, twisting the necklace around his neck, revealing its secret.

"So, you two are pretty serious, huh?" Maria queried, admiration glittering in her eyes.

"Quite. We're expecting a little one soon," Cillian shared, pride swelling inside him at the mention of his unborn child.

"That's amazing," Maria gushed, clasping her hands together. "And what's also amazing is that this news has not made the tabloids yet," she added playfully before telling Cillian about her two grandchildren, who were two and four years old respectively.

She recounted tales of bedtime rituals and diaper duty as Cillian smiled, imagining himself playing similar roles again soon.

"Well, I'll certainly keep that in mind," Cillian laughed. "Thank you for reminding me about the realities of parenthood," he joked, shaking his head ruefully while Maria applied some more foundation, causing Cillian to squint.

"Alright, that should do it," Maria announced satisfied, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

"Ready for the red carpet?" she asked, dusting off her hands theatrically.

"Not really," Cillian chuckled jokingly before following Maria to the car waiting for them both.

Despite his playful tone, he was deeply grateful for the warmth and kindness she showed him. In a world often devoid of genuine connections, it felt like a rare privilege to share such candid conversations without judgment or resentment.

As they arrived at the red carpet, cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every detail of his impeccably tailored ensemble. Fans cheered enthusiastically, calling out his name as, even amidst the chaos, a sense of calm enveloped Cillian, grounded by the knowledge that his loved ones awaited him at home.

Cillian took a deep breath, mustering up the fortitude to address the frenzied reporters awaiting him. The flashing bulbs blazed incessantly, their intensity intensifying as the crowd roared with anticipatory excitement.

He had learned long ago not to underestimate the fickleness of public opinion; the highs and lows of fame were an ever-present reality in his life, which was one he slowly grew accustomed to.

After several interviews, he found himself standing in line for a photo booth with Maria, where a photographer captured shots of him posing alongside various guests. The flashes dazzled him, obscuring the faces of those around him.

"Who's next?" the photographer called out, peering at the sea of other celebrities and members of the film board eagerly awaiting their chance to snap a picture with Cillian. "You ready, Mr. Murphy?" he addressed Cillian directly, gesturing towards the empty space adjacent to him.

"Let's do this," Cillian replied confidently, extending his hand outstretched towards Maria.

With her assistance, he stepped into the designated area, feeling the glare of the flashbulbs bore into his skin. Despite the familiarity with the process, each encounter carried a unique weight, the gravity of which he continued to grapple with.

He exchanged pleasantries with the individuals alongside him, engaging in brief chitchat while maintaining a composed facade before he was being moved on to the area where fans awaited to get their autographs.

Security accompanied Cillian as he navigated through the throng. The clamour of voices reached fever pitch, punctuated by enthusiastic cries and shouts for his attention. With practiced grace, he signed posters and posed for photos, ensuring that everyone left happy.

Fans congratulated him on the movie and some mentioned his earlier roles, recalling scenes fondly or requesting obscure trivia.

Their enthusiasm warmed Cillian's heart, making him realize what a truly blessed life he led.

"Thanks for coming out tonight," he told them sincerely, signing autographs and taking selfies with the fans.

"We are huge fans," an enthusiastic voice piped up from the crowd. "Your performances have inspired us," another chimed in passionately.

"Thank you," Cillian replied humbly, his gaze scanning the faces of those gathered around him. Their expressions were animated, reflecting the energy of the event.

But then, there was one woman who truly stood out among the crowd - a woman who was in her mid-fifties and who was accompanied by a young man.

"Cillian, Cillian!" she cried out, her voice echoing through the crowd, trying to get his attention.

Her eyes were locked on him, shining brightly, filled with hope and excitement. "Cillian... Cillian," she uttered repeatedly, growing louder with each call while holding up a somewhat worn gossip magazine cut out, featuring a photograph of you by his side.

He paused briefly, scanning the faces around him before locking eyes with the woman.

"Would you like me to sign this?" Cillian spoke politely, acknowledging her persistence but, much to his surprise, the woman shook her head and spoke.

"Is she here?" the woman asked with broken accent, pointing at the magazine photo.

"No, Y/N is not here today," he responded gently, meeting the woman's pleading gaze with much confusion and, just as he spoke the words, he could tell that she was visibly deflated, disappointment etching lines onto her face.

"Mum, it's okay," the young man by her side said as her eyes filled up with tears and Cillian looked at her with more confusion than ever.

"No, it isn't alright," the woman replied, her voice cracking with emotion. "I've waited so long," she whimpered, her voice trailing off into silence while security tried to hurry Cillian along.

"Waited for what?" he just managed to ask, the question escaping his lips before he could stop himself. He was clearly puzzled.

"I've waited for her," the woman answered simply, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. "Please, just talk to her. Tell her I'm looking for her for all these years," she implored earnestly, clutching the magazine article tightly in her hands as security insisted for Cillian to move on.

"Hang on a minute," Cillian told the security guard just as the young man handed Cillian an old photograph of a family of four, on the back of which was a name, phone number and address.

When he looked at the photograph, his chin dropped. He had seen this before, amongst your belongings, tucked away carefully in your drawer.

"Who are you?" Cillian asked, examining the photograph closely.

"My name is Isabella," the woman introduced herself, her voice trembling softly. "I'm Y/N's mother," she revealed with a quivering voice, a confession that seemed surreal to Cillian but, before he had the chance to digest this news, he was being pulled away by security.

"Wait, hold on," Cillian protested, thrusting the magazine cut out back into Isabella's hands, signaling to the security guards to stand down.

"Can I keep the photograph?" he asked, eyeing the picture of you and your family with a hint of curiosity.

"Yes," Isabella agreed readily. "Please give it to her," she requested, causing Cillian to nod.

He pocketed the photograph, feeling a strange mixture of apprehension and intrigue swirling within him. "I'll make sure she gets it," he promised, his voice firm, his resolve unwavering before, finally, he was being hushed away, leaving your mother behind.

Meanwhile in Dublin, you had left Cillian's apartment and went to stay at your old unit downtown in order to avoid Max and, whilst you knew that you had to address his behavior with Cillian, you did not want to bother him while he was away.

You knew that, the last thing he needed was more stress and worry, seeing that he well and truly hated these premieres and media engagements.

He never enjoyed being surrounded by hundreds of people, the pressure of interviews, photo shoots, and fan interactions. All of that was exhausting to him, even though he was used to it. He didn't need any additional drama or tension after all that had happened with Kit either.

Unaware of the developments in New York, you tried to occupy yourself with packing up the last of your belongings and preparing for the journey to the new house. You found comfort in routine tasks - sweeping floors, vacuuming carpets, washing dishes - anything to distract yourself from the unsettling feelings bubbling beneath the surface.

But, just as you were carrying out these tasks, something felt strange. It was a crampy pain, akin to menstrual discomfort, only far more intense.

It began to radiate from your lower abdomen, gradually spreading upwards, sending waves of nausea coursing through your veins.

You hadn't eaten anything all day, hoping to appease an unsettled stomach. Yet, despite your abstinence, the feeling persisted: a constant state of unease coupled with intermittent bouts of vomiting.

At first, you brushed it off as a typical bout of morning sickness. The kind that plagued many women during their pregnancy. But as you lay awake at night, clutching your belly in agony, you knew this was different.

Something wasn't right. It wasn't just the usual aches and pains you'd come to expect from your pregnancy. It was as if your body was screaming at you, begging you to pay attention.

Something was seriously wrong. And with Cillian away, you had no one to turn to except yourself.

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

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beevean · 1 year

Text

I decided to break down down this absolutely beautiful poster because I love it and there is some interesting content to notice <3

Starting from the big character portraits:

The Hecboi being his usual badass self. You can spot his earrings which I love, it's such a cute detail <3

Isaac practicing his "step on me daddy" routine. yes sir i get it your boots are fabulous and your pants can't contain your d

I find highkey underrated how Kojima associated him with skulls in official artwork. I wish it didn't get lost in time lol.

Trevor, my friend Trevor :) much more serious than the sass master he is in the game lol

Julia taking care of Hector's Innocent Devils :)

Side note, while I love most of their designs in the game, I find Kojima's idea of what Hector and Isaac's Devils could look like very fascinating. I like how she draws dragons.

The big man himself, St. Germain standing in front of a clock, and Zead holding a four-leafed clover for good luck (+ Isaac again lol)

Now, the more minute detail, going anti-clockwise:

Not only we can see Dracula's Castle, but the figure in the center is the Devil Forgery lab in the PtR manga:

Another underrated detail of lore :)

Oh, this one is just. juicy <3 It took me ages to understand what's going on, but with some help I finally realized it.

So this is essentially the moment where Hector went to Dracula and was like "hey boss, would you mind if you stopped to order me to kill humans? dunno if you noticed but i'm human too and it feels weird. thanks", and Dracula was like "hmm. let me think about it. no. have a nice day :)".

In the PtR manga, it was depicted like this:

With Dracula threatening Hector with his extended claws, and then throwing him off the castle keep. i don't know what you were expecting, man

But in the poster, he's straight up holding Hector by his throat and stabbing him with the fingers of his bat wings! So much that you can see blood dripping from his mouth! Ouch!

This only proves my headcanon that Devil Forgemasters are superhuman and can withstand wounds that would kill a normal person.

also, between this and his sippy attack in the game proper, dracula sure likes to manhandle hector a little too much.

the besties going to work <3

You have no idea how much this little drawing pisses me off. This is the closest thing I have of a canon depiction of Hector and Isaac working as Devil Forgemasters.

I need to see them slaughtering humans together in my bloodstream D: not even NFCV had the courtesy of depicting a villain Hector actually doing villain things D: guys. guys the potential-

Aside from that, this also incidentally proves that PtR's interpretation of Isaac's fabulous outfit (being what is left of his normal Devil Forgemaster outfit after Hector destroyed it) is retroactive. My man was apparently already going shirtless just because he felt like it. Imagine being killed by Dracula's most loyal soldier and your last sight in life is his tiddies. King shit.

also

yeah it's stupid but that's the vibe i get lol

I get it, Kojima-san, you love your blorbo. understandable

A bit more seriously, I really appreciate how much Isaac doesn't have the certified Kojima Pretty Man face, he's instantly recognizable. I like his big nose :)

Hector practicing Devil Forging, a smaller version of this panel from the PtR manga:

I like how in the poster it looks like a typical yin-yang symbol, but also closer to the black-and-white motif of the Devil Forging crest :) they look like two lil dragons chasing each other.

why does isaac look 150% more naked without his shoulder armor

It's hard to tell which even this is supposed to represent. I guess it's his defeat at Hector's hands, if we take the black splotches on the ground as his outfit being slashed. Notice the crest on the floor, similar to the intro of the game!

The worsties fighting. Hector is pissed and Isaac is a troll, must be a day ending in Y. they're flirting

The End! Hard to tell if it's Hector's golden Devil or Abel, but it looks awesome <3

This one... puzzles me. I can tell that Hector is being attacked by some little devils and he's defending himself. But why is he using a small pumpkin as a weapon??

(what if this is him trying to defend rosaly from the mob who accused her of being a witch :<)

Hector angsting. Sadly I'm not sure of what kind of flower that's supposed to be, perhaps a dandelion? I wish it was a lily of the valley like in PtR.

Our friend Trevor again. Interesingly, in the full poster, Isaac and Trevor are directly mirroring each other.

Trevor being like "bruh are you for real" after whipping Hector's ass black and blue. (i hate his second fight so much...)

I would say "Hector's revenge", but actually it looks like he's bleeding and in pain. So... I think this the moment when Dracula nearly clawed Trevor's eye out.

Trevor and Isaac fighting! Love that scene in the game :D

isaac how are you even twisting yourself. what are you doing. you're showing off, aren't you.

Not sure about what location these ruins are supposed to be, but fascinating detail of the skeleton holding a scale of justice. It's close to Zead...

tl;dr i want to eat this poster because it's just so fucking good and a great way to summarize the game

#castlevania #curse of darkness #long post #ayami kojima #hector castlevania #isaac laforeze #trevor belmont #dracula castlevania #julia laforeze #st. germain #zead

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beansidhebumbling · 7 months

Note

Wait I have another one:

Ship of your choice but Person A accidentally seals the mate bond with Person B after doing body shots and sucking a lime out of their mouth. 🙂

The Chemistry of Regret

Okay I had to do college AU Rhysta for this. Hope you like!! This got out of control.

Also the first hands then voice structure is inspired by a line in the fabulous @bittermuire's The Cape which you can read here. Read it!!

Nesta knows of Rhysand Velaris long before she ever has the dubious pleasure of making his acquaintance.

He haunts the Biochemistry department like a spectre.

His overly styled hair gleaming even in the faded newspaper clipping framed outside Professor Wysten's lab.

His black eyes sparkling in picture after picture on the college's socials. Medals and grants and awards the only weight that anchors the Prince of Oíchad College.

The golden boy of the hallowed halls, gone but not forgotten.

And Nesta, living the cruel life of a fresh PhD student grows to hate that curving smirk of a stranger, his sloping signature on the near-empty bottle of Trypan Blue that Wysten refuses to bin, his crisp embroidered lab coat that lies draped over a chair in the dry lab awaiting the return of its owner.

***

Imitator, the dye taunts each time she stains her cells watching blue seep into their crevices, a damning marker of death.

Imposter, the message Wysten imparts in every gushing compliment he in his absence is bestowed that she in her unfailing presence is never good enough to earn.

Lesser, a voice, that must be his, whispers in her ear as she lies awake and wonders if life should feel easier than this.

***

His return from his year in Paris is anticipated like a public holiday. Outfits planned between centrifuge spins, tables booked at his favourite club.

The days are counted down in blood red Xs on the calendar in the study room and when D-day arrives the entire department leaves in a flurry into the cool chill of a January night.

The building is empty, only she and security remains.

Nesta is eager to take advantage of the free slots on the flow cytometer, normally booked until the wee hours. As the sequins on her dress dance like stars and the machine whirs quietly in the background, she runs her cells and finds solace in solitude.

But her cells are soon studied, peace is temporary and then she's queuing on Court Street to enter the Night Palace.

She can feel the bass in her bones as she enters, the dim lighting making the whirling mass of bodies on the dance floor look like art.

***

She has a plan, stay for a drink, long enough to be seen by the tenured professors, long enough to look like she belongs, long enough that she'll be able to nod and smile at the lunch-time conversation.

Not so long that the loneliness erodes her from the inside out, corroding through tissue and bone.

That is the plan.

But then Gwyn, the pretty lab assistant has Sambuca and Emerie has rum and the strobe lights start looking closer to shooting stars.

With alcohol loosed limbs she remembers how much she likes to dance, how the pain of being seen has never stung when there is a rhythm to movement.

So between shots she moves until she gets lost in the art of writhing bodies.

***

She is on the dance floor, hair loose and glitter trailing from her eyes like tears when she meets him.

First, he is large veined hands tentatively touching her waist, awaiting further permission.

She is Nesta Archeron, made of Sambuca and starlight, so she grinds back onto the stranger, the tall stranger she amends as his body presses against her back.

Then he is voice, rich and smooth, as his lips touch her ear lobe, his clipped accent conjuring schooldays at Eton and summers on yachts.

'You're very beautiful.'

The words hit her like sleet in summer.

How...boring.

She is unimpressed and turns to tell him as such.

She is shocked when finally he is no longer solely hands nor voice but Rhysand Velaris in all his tangible glory.

'You!'

She shouts, struggling to be heard over the pounding music, attempting to create a cavern between them even as the crowd presses in from all sides.

'Me.'

His cocky smile turns into a grimace as he reads the disappointment in her expression.

She does not stay long enough to introduce herself.

Sobriety looms too close for that.

She disappears in the grinding groping bodies until his voice melds with the rising melody.

***

He finds her at the bar.

Of course he does. His ghost has been haunting her for the better part of a year why wouldn't his corporeal form do the same.

'Rhysand Velaris.'

His hand, previously branding its heat on the soft wide curve of her waist, is now outstretched and open.

She extends hers, grasping firmly.

'Nesta Archeron.'

Her smile is a tight thin mimicry of what it should be.

His strong brow raises and his eyes widen.

'You're Nesta Archeron, the new PhD?'

She dips her head ignoring the question, too focused now on arranging her cleavage to attract the bartender.

Rhysand's eyes stay fixed to her face, as she successfully obtains her Tequila shots.

'I've been looking forward to meeting my new lab buddy who has booked every afternoon slot in the wet lab for the next month.'

She feels a grin tug at her lips at his pointed tone.

'You snooze you lose, Velaris.'

And in an impulse she wished she could blame on the undrunk shots before her she snipes,

'If it's a problem get Daddy to build us a new lab.'

His laugh is unexpected and far too enchanting for a handsome face. Because he is handsome, Mother damn him.

'Would you like me then? Because I'm very motivated for you to like me Nesta Archeron.'

He caresses the syllables of her name, his teeth clicking on the t and lingering like he wants to hold the letters a beat too long.

'Why? Because I'm beautiful.'

She scoffs.

His posture stiffens.

'No. Because you're brilliant. From what I've read, from what I've heard.'

A pause.

'Of course, you being beautiful is a welcome addition. Not as beautiful as me though.'

A giggle escapes her because he is ridiculous. This is ridiculous. He isn't allowed to be charming, not when she has decided to hate him.

***

'Let's do shots.'

She gestures clumsily to the glasses almost knocking them in the process.

And because she's lost her mind, for that must be the only reason, she grasps his inner forearm licking the tanned skin, letting her tongue drag lightly along, following a vein towards his elbow, ignoring the electricity that sparks through her body as she does.

He is tense, eyes pools of darkness she could drown in, the leather and chocolate of his cologne muddling her brain.

She salts his arm pushing the slice of lime his way. He obediently inserts it into his mouth, moving like a man dazed, eyes transfixed on her lips.

Like a film reel she sees the next three years play in her head if she carries on with this insanity, awkwardness and avoidance abound.

So why is she compelled to continue this mistake?

***

You'll regret this.

Her brain screams as the Tequila slides a burning fire down her throat.

You'll regret this.

It pleads as she kisses the white crystals from soft skin of his arm, nipping slightly so he moans her name in a way she definitely cannot linger on.

You'll regret this.

It begs as their lips meet in a citrus clash that sets fireworks off behind her eyes. He breaks momentarily to spit out the wedge of lime before returning to capture her lips, kissing her like lonely women dream of, hot and expert and claiming.

***

When she opens her eyes to meet a panting Rhysand, those hands still clutching her like she might mean salvation from an unknown damnation, dark hair tousled from her fingers grasping and tugging mere seconds before.

When he touches his ribs before looking in awe at her, like she is more than her frame can contain.

When he says her name like a prayer, like a curse, and she feels the golden links tying them together in a way science can only vaguely explain, she finds their damnation.

And she knows.

She'll regret this.

#rhysta #nesta #rhysand #college au #acotar #gemwrites #so glad im not in the labs anymore

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thericare · 1 month

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Hello! It's the st. Bernard from earlier :3 (fabulous job btw I showed it to all my friends as if I was a father chowing pictures of his child)

I just wanted to ask for golden retriever outfits? (If you havent done it before ofc)

^w^

Hey again!! Im so glad you liked my st bernard one!!! i hope you like this one just as much :))

#dog therian #dog kin #otherkin #dogkin #golden retriever therian

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86stagram · 23 days

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Hi! I'm adpara player from Japan🗾 I'm sorry for my broken English📛

I may not be great at English, but I've decided to give it a shot here because there seem to be a lot of English speakers around hehe

I'm writing this, but I'm not an OC – her name is Kunsei-ham🐹 She can't use a computer, so she tells me to make collages & input text usually...

Even though I'm a beginner at Tumblr, I'm enjoying it! Ham is having fun with it too🐹

~~~~~~~~🧡~~~~~~~~

Hiya pals!ヾ(´Y｀)ノ” I'm Kunsei-ham, the super cool hamster plushie idol from Planet Golden Hamster!🐹💨 I love to enjoy 'promise', mix coord, and sing song on stage with friends♫

In English, my name 'Kunsei ham' means smoked ham🍖😋 I'm not really smoked ham; 'Kunsei ham' is more like a stage name, I made up that sounds like my real name but with a silly twist💫

My favorite outfit is the Golden Military ensemble – it's just so fabulous💛✨ Wearing it makes me feel like a 'Brilliant Prince' because it's super cool!!!ヾ(*´Y｀*)ノ” What are some of your favorite?🌟✨

My theme colors are white, yellow, orange, and gold, because I'm a golden hamster🐹🤍💛🧡👑 Pretty sure they suit me, don't you think?

I've got many items in Pretty series... I wish I could wear that to adpara~ Ugh, My heart yearns for things I can never have( í Y ì )💘

⇧I would like to see 'My☆Dress design' implemented in adpara💭 ⇩If possible, I'd also like to create 'My☆psyllium'

This feature can allow players to create their own custom outfits by selecting from a variety of design elements...! I really enjoyed it!!!😭

I think it would be a great addition to game...🥺 I want to play as long as possible

＼ Let's enjoy together🐹😉 ／

Temporary addition : pls translation as necessary⇩🙏

【2024年5月6日追記】暫定的な英語の自己紹介でした。もうちょい推敲させたいけど、人間の腕も英語力も限界だって( í Y ì ) でもせっかく書かせたし、いっそ放流することに(´Y｀).oO(少しでもぼくのことが伝わると嬉しいな～)

マイキャラをOC(Original Character?)と呼んだり、アドパラをadparaと書くのは他ユーザーの投稿で知った！「他の言語で書かれた投稿はとても興味深いです、勝手に感謝してます！」って、人間が……

絵文字ってなんとなく世界共通の用途かな～って思うけど、聞いたところによると 🙏ハイタッチ/手を合わせて謝る 📛燃やされる豆腐(!?)/幼稚園児の名札バッヂとか、ぜんぜん違う意味で受け取られちゃうらしいね( í Y ì ) でも日本のノリ(英語ができない幼稚園児とか)も織り交ぜたいような気も…… ちなみに(´Y｀)は普段のぼく、( í Y ì )は泣いてるぼくを表した顔文字(さすがに伝わるか……？)

自然な英訳がわからなくてとりあえず音の響きをそのまま書かせたところもあるよ。日本語って意味より雰囲気重視で雑にカタカナを使ったり略したりするのでよく混乱させられる……　Engrishなんかはきっと有名な話。

たぶんいろいろ変なところはあるだろうけど許してやってね🐹💨 あるいは指摘してくれたら勉強になって嬉しいってさ🐹💨

人間がもうちょっとマシな英語ができるようになって腕も治ったら改めて自己紹介させたいよ～(´Y｀)　ではまた！

#idol land pripara #プリパラのぼく #illustration #pripara oc

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riacte · 1 year

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Vote False!! like please please pretty please

1. Have you ever seen her skins. Even outside of the tumblr sexymen context she has one of the Best Selection of Minecraft Skins. Like:

Like first of all there’s her saturated post-Demise skin. Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not 2013 DevianArt tumblr anime overly colourful OC core. The neon green hair. The fabulously unnecessary pink lip gloss. The jarringly violet jacket. The Ebony Darkness vampiric red boots. The overly saturated Windows XP blue goggles. She looks like a 2013 tumblrina. In fact she probably is a 2013 tumblrina.

And of course there’s her wearing the Mumbo suit and I mean just. Just look at her. I don’t need to say anything, right? Put her in a girlboss suit. That’s a tumblr sexyman.

And then of course we have [holds back sapphic screaming] her latest skins. Listen e!False’s skin did something to everyone. Don’t lie. The steampunk. The suspenders. The rolled sleeves. And of course she’s being a mildly evil pathetic murderous meow meow. And the logging outfit is here just for display because like. Just look at it. The belt. It’s red fucking flannel. And brown gloves. She’s serving. Are we all okay? Let’s take deep breaths shall we—

There’s more about False in a suit. She was the butler in Mint Maids. And she was a cute skeleton. And she had a froggy hat. AND SHE WAS SHREK. Look at her range!

And speaking of rolled up sleeves, you had to be there when she rolled them up for the first time at the beginning of a HC season and let me tell you, hermitblr panicked. Everyone was 😳. Like how can you not—

2. Enough about the skins. False has a reputation for being a scary PvPer, and it’s both right and wrong. Right as in she can be scary sometimes but in a random, cryptic way. Remember when Scar had to kill her but just couldn’t because False was wearing protection armour? And Scar sounded like he was about to cry while False looked like a pincushion with all the arrows sticking out of her? And False took mercy on Scar and stood still just so he could kill her? There’s being scary, and then there’s the supernatural type of scary imposed by her. She’s insane. And then she felt bad and politely allowed Scar to kill her. Ma’am that’s supernatural.

But on the flip side, False can actually be kinda scared herself when it comes to PvP. You can see from her streams lmfao. But the point is, while she’s panicking and hiding and running away while being 100x prepared with like a stack of potions and golden apples, her opponent is terrified of her. So we have False being a sneaky confused pathetic meow meow (her POV) while from an outsider POV she seems like a mysterious, murderous… entity.

3. Okay apparently one of the criteria of tumblr sexyman is about the fandom’s perception soooo even before e!False, the fandom has always been OBSESSED with the concept of another False. A False False. TrueSymmetry if you will. A devious, cunning mirror image. One of the OG Helsmits. The fandom’s imagination went insane.

4. False does crime. She’s sneaky. She steals. Her (in)famous quote: It’s not stealing if you’re not caught.” Remember her hero complex during the HC7 Mayoral Race when she purposefully lured in mobs just to kill them off? Slay. What a queen.

5. Look at her cultural relevance!!! We still call her Queen of Hearts from a Gucci Gang parody years ago! She’s still False Supremacy even though that began from September 2020 with her MCC9 and MCC10 wins, by the way you should watch MCC9 Blue Bats if you haven’t already— [I am forcefully removed from the podium] She’s a legend!! She won Twitch Rivals in person!! Is that sexyman of her? No but you should still vote for her!!!

6. She already lost the mayoral vote in HC7 this is the least we can do for her 👉👈

7. It would be funny for her to beat DocM77. Like imagine the Doc reaction on Twitter. Don’t tell Doc. Get slayed. Also women <3

8. Cub got kicked out early and since he shares similar vibes with False she should win this round for both of them <3 dry humour slay murder girlboss hermits <3 <3 I have no idea what I’m saying

9. If she wins this round she would face off Ren like that would be funny. I mean it’ll also be funny if Doc wins. Ignore that point—

10. I am once again asking for your vote. Queen of Hearts! ShrekSymmetry!! #FALSESWEEP LET’S GO!!!

#mcytblrsexymen #mcyt #falsesymmetry #im unhinged bc of coffee #ria.txt #PLEASE PLEASE LET HER WIN THIS ROUND 🙏#pspspspsps propaganda #this post is very /j btw I have no idea what I’m saying #prob rmb some details wrong but oh Well!

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realcatalina · 10 months

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Catherine of Aragon's family-Maria of Aragon's depictions

This time I am going to do something bit different. I'm not going to show you just individual depictions and their sources. But also give the comentary abou their accuracy(or likely accuracy).

It is about damn time we learnt a bit about what does consist of portuguese fashion, and what doesn't.

Because I suspect among Maria's depictions there is a black sheep(a misidentified portrait). So this post is kind of me trying to assess if my suspicion is right...

Maria tends to be imo the most overlooked of the siblings. She and her husband got along, she wasn't the only son, nor ever became the heir...

But I'd not trust the sources which say she wasn't good looking.(Perhaps not as good looking as some of her siblings)

Not many of her depictions survive, they just as records often fell victim to the earthquakes. But there are two depictions which likely originate from her lifetime, or at least close to her lifetime.

1)Stained-glass window in the High Chapel of the Church of Saint Mary of Victory (Batalha Monastery, Leiria, Portugal), attributed to Francisco Henriques, c. 1510-1513:

The little red dot in down left imo is out of place imo(window was smatched at some point), and imo belongs elsewhere.

Otherwise I have nothing to say against the dress itself, it looks very Iberian and the similiarities to some of the religious artwork of the day is pretty damn awesome:

Even colour-scheme is same. (Although obviously different neckline and chemise, but that could be down to personal choice or different season.)

The wide decorative trim made gold and pearls can also be found coassionally in Portuguese art, I found it plenty of time in later source

Genealogia dos Reis de Portugal(c.1530-1534)-which has outfits which are partially fiction partially true...

But i have bit of an issue with the headwear. It looks like french hood(at least from front)...kind of.

And I don't think it would be likely for Maria to wear French hood. Yes, it could have been introduced to Iberia by Margaret of Austria or Joanna...but would it linger after they either left or were locked up?

The artist was active in Portugal but native flemish(hence from part of Habsburg Netherlands), and I wonder if perhaps he got bit creative...

...But if you know a bit about french hoods...this is not historically accurate french hood of the time. It might look that way on first glance...but on 2nd? No. It more resembles french hoods after 1530s, than 1510s-where it definitely should have golden frill.

And I did my best to look through surviving portuguese art for depictions french hoods. And I found like 2 in total...which I only suspect might be french hood, because they are oddly depicted.

...And I am wondering if it could be separate headwear...something which resembles French hood at this angle.

So I am not ruling out french hood as impossible, but I am wondering if perhaps Portuguese had something similiar to french hood which was not very popular and got depicted just few times.

2)Maria's statue is from 1517-the year she died. It is located Mosteiro dos Jerónimos(Jeróminos Monastery) where the members of house Aviz are burried, including Maria herself (without effigy):

Idk if it is posthumous or not. But if posthumous, then the artist Nicolau Chanterene would likely be send to create it as commemoration of her life, and since employed by royalty, it's likely he'd have best sources about Queen...perhaps including access to her dresses etc.

The kneeling statue lost its hands(probably in earthquake), but it's still fine example of obviously iberian fashion:

The cofia de tranzado, the fabulous sleeves...with bit of them upturned. All colours were picked by me...and it's obvious why I made the chain in gold, but why the wide trim in gold?

-because in closeup it has this kind of pattern, and I can't imagine it being anything other but golden with such pattern.

I could be wrong interepreting the statue, but the statue itself screams historical accuracy.

This painting has similiar golden trim imo-Nursing Madonna by Defendente Ferrari, in Uffizi Gallery:

(Although here sat directly at edge.)

Directly from Portugal is Retábulo de Santa Catarina(Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga, Lisbon) from allegedly 1540s(imo that's not correct date), where figure of St. Catherine has dress which look very close to Maria's:

(I covered the cutt off neck. I don't want to breech any guidelines.)

But those dangling things and metalic headwear-those are the fantasy parts of the costume, and obviously it's much shorter than Maria's dress. But very similiar to fashion of the statue.

3)Portrait of Maria of Aragon, Belem Collection, created around 1720:

Despite being copy, this one is actually very close to the statue in many aspects. The jewelry placement, the height of waistline-it's same. The headwear is once again cofia de tranzado(perhaps bit more elaborate...)with different style of hat(which I can't place...could be alteration) and the rest of outfit is same as what we see in Spain in 1500s and 1510s.

So except hat on top it looks historically accurate. Although cofia de tranzado being this heavily embroidered is probably add-on.

Within same collection there is also portrait of King Manuel, done at same time:

He also has golden gown decorated at edges with pearls and tbh it's quite similiar to yet another portrait of Maria:

4) Maria de Aragão e Castela, Rainha de Portugal

You can find it on wikipedia, which says the source is book called Infantas de Espanha, Rainhas em Portugal. It's author seem as historian, not art historian. And I am not putting blame upon him, for this mess. Overall the amount of weird things is so big, that I shall dedicate separate post to it.

But long story short.

It's heavily altered, possibly photoshopped and never seem very Iberian to me. And after all research I did...I am even more convinced it's not Iberian fashion.

So either the fact somebody altered heck out of it has hid Maria's outfit so well, it no longer looks Iberian...Or it isn't Maria.

I know some of you like this portrait...but we have to be objective here...the misidentification happened in past a lot, and even today happen as well.

And the similiarities to Manuel's outfit in that portrait above could make people think the woman is his wife...Even if she isn't.)

We're going to take deep dive into the issue and then make conclusions. In meanwhile don't use it as inspiration for costume of Maria of Aragon. Seriously don't.

5)Fons Vitae by Colijn de Coter, 1518-posthumous depiction:

Is located in Museu da Misericórdia do Porto, Portugal. At lower part of painting is depicted King Manuel's family.

But I have to point out, that the artist never went to Iberia...So there are two opions here. Either the comission and creation occured with sketches of royal being sent to royals, or without.

If without, then these would not need to be accurate at all, and would be just generic figures...

Here the Portuguese princesses are depicted 100% in Netherlandish outfits from head to toe:

But is Maria too? Tbh idk. The headwear to me look lok more like belonging to 15th century and it's quite odd how she has two strands of hair styled beneat her ear, and then going above her forehead...plus traluscent part over it.

(Back of the dress also have similiar shape from back as that of St. Catherine.)

But then...there are big similiarities between the stain glass headwear and this(if we take the crown away):

And if it indeed is same headwear...then from behind it's obviously not french hood...it just resembles its later form...in certain angles.

I'd not trust this depiction...100%...but I'd not throw it away as entirely inaccurate either. I just think the artist made it bit too much elaborate, because to him it seemed as those 15th century headwears...which were very elaborate.

I'd use the stain glass as the guide here. But I can't really tell exactly how the traluscent aprt adn hair are supposed to sit...and how layers work...But maybe some of you would like to give it a try.

If any of you know what this headwear is and how it is supposed to look like, write it in the comments, I'd love to know.

By the way...this might be same headwear:

With different back.

So that is all from me today, it was bit different than what I normally do. But I thought it necessary. I hope you've enjoyed it and see you next time.

#historical portraits #maria of aragon #Catherine of Aragon's family #Queen of Portugal

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chorusgirls · 8 months

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𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙻, 𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝙰 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴. 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃, 𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴.

… STAGE NAME … dove moreno.

… NICKNAMES … dovie. legs. slim. gin or ginny to select few.

… BIRTH NAME … ginevra grace marín.

… AGE … thirty-three.

… GENDER … cis woman.

… SEXUALITY … bisexual. kinsey scale 2.

… CIVILIAN OCCUPATION … headliner of old world casino, celebrity.

… CRIMINAL ASSOCIATION … associate to burning gods: spy, informant, emissary, honeypot. in short, their errand bitch.

… NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES … transatlantic accent. white hair, roots meticulously bleached. physical proportions aided by the latest technology: temptation down to a science. never caught undone; hair, makeup, and outfit are always carefully curated.

… CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS … grace faraday ( gangster squad ). satine ( moulin rouge ). roxie hart ( chicago ). qi’ra ( solo ). joi ( bladerunner 2049 ). gilda ( gilda ). jennifer north & neely o’hara ( valley of the dolls by jacqueline susann ). chenault ( the rum diary ). dinah lance ( birds of prey & the fabulous emancipation of one harley quinn ). mae ( reminiscence ). marilyn monroe. the gun moll, misunderstood femme fatale, noir heroine, & golden age starlet archetypes.

( + ) alluring, brave, confident, adaptable, astute, composed, clever, protective, loyal.

( - ) guarded, opportunistic, materialistic, manipulative, delusive, cynical, distrustful.

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂. * trigger warnings: brief mention of alcoholism and domestic abuse.

A BRIGHT SPOT IN A DIM PLACE IS JUST CALLED A STAIN. that much dove learns early, before she’s sloughed off an old name and bleached a new one in. her life is simple, the walls of the family’s aching apartment kept up as much with sheer force of will as they were plaster. most of what the marín family possesses fits in the palm of a hand: a crumpled cheque from a poorly-paying job, a slip from the bookies on what is owed, the neck of a bottle of jack, and the quickly bruising arm of your daughter. it’s a trite story. she prefers not to think of it.

the way young ginny marín looks at the world has less to do with greed and more to do with dissatisfaction, a concept wider and more open-mouthed than avarice. her desires as a girl are not always outlandish, but her tastes all bare the name of more: more than they have, more than they can afford, more than can fit in the flat of a provincial life. she hears you don’t need it as often as the familiar bray of her name.

for all that she desires the girl is no thief, though she’s learned the proper feint and step to slip out of a drunk father’s grip before he can do harm, slipping out the window onto the fire escape as if an intruder. it’s there that she finds her first real escape, fifteen and pretty and wrapped in a threadbare robe, watching as the sun slips its shoulder coyly down over the brooklyn bridge. that’s how i’ll escape, she thinks, not looking a moment at the overpass that could take her past the city lines. bright eyes fix on the orange sky instead, watching how it burns. bright and beautiful enough that even the men in the street below stop to watch it wink.

the importance of a lacquered shell is that shines without offering transparency, glittering without lending clue as to either what sits beneath or the strength of the external sheath itself. there is a surprising solidness to ginny, despite the way she shimmers in even dim lighting; she works after school, stores the money, keeps her head down in a neighbourhood that glimmers with silver blades imploring you to look up. largely she avoids the pitfall of handsome crocodiles with pale teeth, but the night is alive with them. some nights it’s unavoidable to have her back pressed to their scaled chests, particularly when daddy has debts he can’t repay.

the truth is that a girl can only climb so far on her own. at a certain height her limbs can’t stand the pressure, aren’t made to go any further without the aid of something dropped down from the sky. auditioning from the time she’s eighteen, and five years later she’s still only barely beyond the dim cabaret bars and off-off-broadway productions she began with: a lauded burlesque performer, an actress with talent but only bit parts to show for it. so she watches. listens. waits. there’s plenty of gangs in this city, and any number of them could sweep her off her feet with a shot from what lays in their holster. but the real power isn’t in mortal men and their bullets. to get her where she wants to go, she needs a god. and when she finally finds one she lays across his lap, pink feather fan fluttering with the same impact as her eyes, stirring everything in the room. the kittenish act drops when they stand alone in a private room. my name is dove. i need you. and you need me.

the ascent is a careful meteor, plausible while still monumental. acting does not have enough to be gained from it, she’s told, but they can make her like that smouldering sunset from memory: too big, too beautiful to be ignored. she is always expected to bring worth both to the table and stage, and they cannot make a star out of tin on a string: but oh does she know how to shine. they love her. they see her. finally, she’s safe.

five years she’s headlined the biggest entertainment complex in the entirety of the city, and paradise begins to curl in on itself, apple trees bending at the waist and dropping rotten fruit to the ground below. five years she’s headlined, seven she’s been indebted to the burning gods, thirty-three she’s been possessed by something other than herself: poverty, cruelty, men playing god. the sum, when added together, equates to too much. no matter what she accumulates and hands over, the scale of the gods come up uneven: more, it says. you’ll give us more. but they’ll learn same as you did all those years ago, sitting on a cold grate staring at the sky: the sun is not meant to be owned.

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

her act at old world is very much a full cabaret/vaudeville show, with dance numbers, singing, and burlesque elements (dita von teese’s notorious giant coupe routine, feather fan tease, etc) with a massive cast and budget. there was initially more burlesque/stripping elements, which she’s fought to remove over time as she wants to be taken seriously.

the most used image in personal/commercial holograms and motion billboards in the city, though the bulk are in the entertainment district. most are advertisement for old world, supplemented by product ads, and is the currently #1 downloaded avatar (akin to joi from bladerunner 2049).

despite her visual presence in the city, is known as something of an enigmatic figure. she talks little about her life in interviews (though it has been heavily implied she came from money) ⸺ though her romantic escapades are often discussed and guessed upon ⸺ and only attends the events she chooses.

has a blue-eyed ragdoll cat named nana that’s her whole world. yes nana has a pearl collar, what of it?

despite their influence and lifestyle, the burning god’s command over technology is one of the major reasons she approached them for partnership – who else could scrub the world of her old self?

clothing / style is (as you can predict) very 40s-50s. owns more fur coats and stoles than you care to know.

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂.

OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS, you walk into mine. exes with a particularly lengthy and torrid past. no matter the time that’s passed since they’ve called it quits, tension diffuses in the air when they share the same room.

YOUR NAME IS A GOLDEN BELL HUNG IN MY HEART, I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name. those that knew dove when she was just ginny, a pretty girl from the bronx with either the desperation or the fortitude to make it big. ex-best friends, romantic partners. slanted more towards angst and hurt.

SEE YA LATER ALLIGATOR, in a while crocodile. white crocodile members. similar to the above, but oriented for antagonism. does not necessarily have to be someone who knew her personally (though could be! there’s likely few crocodiles around that still recognize dove as ginny marín, but it’s not impossible! ex-best friends and romantic partners still welcome), but should have some kind of information on who she was before she became untouchable. a nefarious carrot on a stick, as it were. cheshire cat and alice. always taunting, always out of reach.

THE JAWS THAT BITE, the claws that catch. a boogeyman, a jabberwocky, a ticking crocodile coming after captain cook. an individual who gets their kicks attempting to terrify dove. make it plain ol’ masochism for the fun of it or give it an obsessive slant.

YOU BELONG TO ME, do you understand? the burning gods higher-up (consigliere, underboss, boss) responsible for bringing her into the fold, and subsequently the reason she’s risen to the heights that she has. preferably the person she reports to directly. would love to have this mixed with a romantic/sexual angle for the complication and toxicity of it all.

I COULD KEEP YOU SAFE, they’re all afraid of me. quite simply, her protector - one not hired or forced into the role through professional means, but forged by personal bond. they might want to see her leave the burning gods entirely, or have simply decided to keep her safe regardless.

WHAT WE HAVE, they cannot bleed from us. substitute family. should have grown up in the bronx around the same time as dove, or been of a similar life path that could have seen them meeting early on. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and they’ve never let go of each other.

EVERY STEP I HAVE TAKEN, has been to take me closer to you. her first infatuation, and one that she’s carried with her unspoken for years. they met before she was a name and face, and on every step of her ascension into fame she’s wondered if this - this new girl, updated, perfected - could be the one they’ll love. very sayuri/the chairman from memoirs of a geisha inspired. likely someone with money, success, or both, but not absolutely necessary. can be discussed!

BECAUSE MY MAGIC IS AS STRONG AS MY ARM, and i am never denied. must be in power in a gang or with significant political power. preference for a woman, but not necessary. the inverse of the prior dynamic, with dove as the mentee here - a longstanding relationship that began when she was introduced to life among the burning gods, and has counselled her on it ever since. over the past decade has become a close personal relationship.

YOU’RE A NICE KID, now get out of here before i ruin it. someone with a hapless crush on or longstanding pursuit of dove who makes their intentions known, and she continually shuts them down. potentially because she thinks they’re too good to get wrapped up in the web she’s caught in, conversely thinks they’re no good, or is done with gangsters. usually gives them a consolatory pat on the cheek when they leave.

NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER, unless i’m there with her. must be female. her greatest ally – not for their physical strength or political power, but for the depth of their bond and what they would do for each other. gotham city sirens energy. the power of gworls amirite !!!

IT SAYS I BELONG HERE, and you will not deny me. should be female and preferably younger, bonus points for someone in the entertainment industry or heavily involved in the performance of femininity. a mentor/mentee relationship with a potential twist of nigh-sisterly love.

COME HERE BABY, put your lips around the barrel of my gun. must be gang member. longstanding friends-with-benefits. despite the fact that dove swears she’s done with gangsters, she can’t seem to quit them. the danger they carry with them makes things more exciting. the good shit like them showing her the gun in their bedside table and letting her hold it

CLOSE YOUR EYES, it’ll all be alright. someone she aided the burning gods in manipulating/conning/getting payback on, which ended with physical assault. she either witnessed the damage being dealt or found them after the fact, making her best attempt at patching up the wounds. to this day she still feels a mix of care and guilt.

YOU’RE ABOUT AS WEAK AS THIS MATCH, but under the right conditions you could burn a house down, couldn’t you? must be affiliated with a non-BG gang. they know dove is aligned with the burning gods, but what they also know is they could do better by her. or more specifically, she could do more for them, and they intend to persuade her to defect. a courtship for a deal with the devil, as it were.

WHAT’S A DAME LIKE YOU, doing in a city like this? should likely be aligned with the fbi or a detective, though with the right slant could also work for a gang member. somebody using (or attempting to) dove in an effort to get information on the burning gods.

SWEETS, you couldn’t ignore me if you tried. will-they-won’t-they hateship/flirtationship with massive sexual tension. i’m too lazy to write any more on this but y’all get it.

MISC CONNECTIONS INSPO: here. here. here. here. here. here. here.

#lawlessintro

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