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xxmileyrosexx · 5 months ago

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Are you fucking serious?

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Brat Tamer!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Brat!Reader

Era: Alexandria

Smut

Warnings: Rough sex, unprotected p in v, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, dom!daryl, brat tamer!daryl, degradation (such as brat, slut, whore etc) , opposites attract, diva!reader, brat!reader, smut, plot, pet names, oral (m&f), face fucking, fingering, choking(by oral) squirting, hair pulling, small masturbation (when i say small it may aswell not be a warning but yk), pink pink PINK 🥰, spanking, a sprinkle of praise, aftercare, Reader has pink painted weapons instead of the other types (weapon paint)

First Person. (I, My, Me, etc.)

Context: Reader is a brat and Daryl fucking hates it, they have known each other since the quarry but Daryl has always seemed to hate her for some reason, so Reader hates him back for it, they have to go on a run together.. who knows what will happen

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I was just applying some lip gloss, pink gloss that i found last run, thought i could treat myself seeing as it was this big mall that had clothes and a makeup store, there was also a torn up victoria secret store butttt i didn’t bother going there due the hawk eye that was on run with me that day. Speaking of which, the hawk eyed archer is walking over, with a frustrated look on his face, thats nothing new when hes forced to talk to me, that hawk eye is also called Daryl, someone I’ve known since the quarry. He has hated me since I met him, I have never really knew why. I put my lipgloss into these creme jean shorts that suited this dirty pink tank top with a pink gun in my holster, then met his walk.

“Why are you over here, What do you want?” then crossed my arms, swung my hips and then looked up at him, one thing that I’ll admit is that he has really nice eyes, they are blue and they are actually nice. “Rick has ordered us ta’ go on a run.” his southern accent dripping in his sentence, hinting at his own frustration at it. “Whys it ALWAYS us?” I rolled my eyes im my own evident anger, then followed him over to his bike, hopping on the back of it and held onto him, Daryl simply just shrugged and we were on our way to wherever the fuck we were going to.

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Finally we pulled up at some random town thats nearby, abandoned, glass was actually shattered all around the town. I got off and looked at the stores that were actually not shattered. “Personally i think we should split up.”, a grunt of annoyance was heard and i immediately turned around “Problem?” he just walked over to me and replied “Are y’ sure tha’ ya’ lil’ doll legs wont get hurt if ye’ go off alone?” and more anger flushed in my face. “What the fuck do you mean, Dixon? Just because i like fashion doesn’t mean that you get to be an asshole about it.” i was beyond pissed off at him, How could he say something so rude. I rolled my eyes at him and he just grunted in response. I just walked off, who was he to say no?

As I checked out a store for clean clothed, i couldn’t believe my eyes. It was gorgeous pink lingerie that had a 2000s satin dressing gown, who was i to say no to that beauty?! I picked it up by the hanger and checked it out, shock filling my expression, smiling at it. It was pretty dirty but nothing a little bit of cleaning wont fix. With this i could look like a goddess.. I folded it into my backpack and continued looking, the clothes here were really dirty, I picked up a few that reminded me of people at home, then went to check over the counter, some makeup that was clearly used, but very barely, I need a few more products and, personally I think the girls at home would thank me for it. I grabbed a few in different shades of everything so people have variety, there was then a hand on my shoulder, i turned around quickly, shit! a walker, I rushed to try get my knife out, i walked backwards then I accidentally made a shelf fall over, woops.., I grabbed my knife quickly then stabbed the walker right in the skull.

I finally finished the little shopping spree, about to open the door until suddenly Daryl came rushing in, i raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, about to speak, a bang was at the door, a walker hand. They were all piling up the front of the door, clearly knowing that we were in there. I turned to look at Daryl in anger. “What the fuck.” i said with aggression and he looked down at me with twice the amount of anger, i was confused on why he was so pissed off at me “What the fuck do y’ mean? Y’ just nearly got yourself killed! Walkers coming left and right from those abandoned stores ALL because you dropped something in here because of how careless you were being.” I opened my mouth wide and looked at the fallen shelf then looked back at him, he was looking at the fallen shelf and just put two and two together. “Im not being careless Daryl. I even got you a new shirt that looks far better than your torn one. It was wobbling before i even came in here, I just took the most decent stuff on it then it fell.” I rolled my eyes at him and crossed my arms, the excuse clearly poor as a glass item was fallen on-top of clothes. “Th’ dead walker says otherwise. What the fuck are y’ doing.” he said with a fed up tone then took the bag, unzipping it, seeing makeup on top of clothes. He picked up a mascara and looked at me in anger. “Fuck’n makeup? What are y’ going to do with this?” his anger becoming more and more evident by the second. “Well.. for starters theres plenty of women at home that would be very grateful without looking like they are actually apart of the dead, and secondly whys it your business?” I said with as equal aggression as him, stepping closer to him.

He went back looking in the bag and i seen the tiniest bit of the lingerie. He raised it up with aggression. “Are y’ fuck’n serious?” he said, evidently furious. I rolled my eyes again until i heard him grunt again before dropping the bag and stepping forward to me. he looked like he was hesitating, i realised how close he genuinely was and rolled my eyes again, blushing only the slightest bit. “If y-” suddenly his lips were on mine, i shut my eyes and blended into the kiss. “If i knew tha’ was what shut y’ up, I woulda done it a long time ago.” he pressed his forehead against mine. “If i knew that stopped you being a dick this whole time i would have done it myself… except you’re still an asshole.” I said with false anger in my voice, he just grunted and slammed his lips back on mine, “Such a fuck’n brat f’me.” my legs nearly fell in front of him as he said that. “Do y’ want this? Hmm?” his finger fell to my clit, i rolled my eyes and quietly let out a gut moan. He stopped directly on it, “Didnt get an answer, cmon, all silent f’me now but you were chewin’ my ear off seconds ago.” he said looking in my eyes with this lust-filled gaze i haven’t seen from him before. “Please.” i looked away from him in embarrassment, hiding how badly i really wanted him, and how i have for a longgg while now. “Please what? Y’ want me to stop? Cant do nothin’ without y’ permission. And look a’ me.” he raised his hand to my chin, making me look in his eyes. this was like a whole new Daryl.. “Fine.. please keep going, Daryl.” I looked down after i had said it, i felt the blush turning more redder as what i said settled in, suddenly i felt movement down below and i sighed with relief. “Finally a good girl mm?” he then took my hand, putting it in front of his bulge. I teasingly squeezed it and he just grunted. “On y’ knees, doll.”

I rolled my eyes then got on my knees, i slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, it hit me square in the face and he laughed. It was sure fucking big alright. There was a specific vein climbing up to the tip, i just shoved it in my mouth and bobbed my head against it. He groaned, a long, sexy, groan. he grabbed the back of my hair and started thrusting upwards, making me gagg. “What a fuck’n slutty brat, mm? Y’ enjoying this sweetheart? Who knew it was dick y’ needed to shut that pretty lil moutha yours, ah?” he thrusted deeper as he groaned louder, throwing his head back. Absentmindedly i began to unbutton my shorts and put my own hand working on my clit, making a muffled moan escape from my lips. this kept on going for a while, a small “Good girl” escaping Daryls lips as mascara filled tears were rolling down my face. “What a dirty fucking whore..” he groaned out.

“Fuck.. fuck.. fuck..” he grunted, i could tell how close he was, but he just pulled me away from his cock, lifting me up to him and kissed me, picking me up, spinning me round and putting me on the check out counter, he seen that my shorts were undone and groaned in response, finding pink lacy panties.. of course. he pulled them down alongside with my shorts and started licking my pussy, sucking and nibbling on my clit. I hesitantly moved my hands to his hair and pulled on it lightly, making him let out a quiet groan beneath me, he slid a finger inside me making me moan and my grip tighter on his hair, he let out a louder groan. it had to have been even better than music, and i cant even listen to it no more!

He kept flicking his tongue and added another digit, curling his fingers up, “Fuck I- keep going..!” I looked down and he was looking up at me with those lust eyes, thats all i needed and i came all over him. His fingers, his face, it was perfect. he kept going for me to ride out my orgasm, then pulled away, standing up and licking his fingers clean. then, he slowly pushed his cock deep into me, making a loud moan of ecstasy escape my lips. He felt so big inside, even bigger than how he felt in my mouth, tears fell down my face and he notice. “Y’ can take it girl, cmon, i ain’ even fully in yet.” he pushed more forward, his own structure collapsing slightly more and more then kissed me, it was actually pretty passionate. his lips were so… perfect, i could suffocate in them. “Yeah, is it even in yet?” he immediately looked at me, raised his eyebrow then slammed into me, thrusting roughly and spanked my ass, making a loud moan escape my lips, his hand snaking up to pull my hair, reminding me to keep quiet, the grip on my hips had to have been bruising. he was placing kisses and bites all round my tank top, it kept rolling back up so he ripped it off “I liked that shirt!” he grunted in response, “Sounds like y’ prefer ma cock tho, what a slut, even when getting ya’ pussy fucked y’ cant stop fuck’n talkin’, such a whore.” this made me let out a moan, in response he spanked me again.

Then he pulled out to sit me on the counter and spread my legs, putting one up to his shoulder, slamming right back ainto me, just as i was about to let out a high pitch moan, he put his hands next to my head, one on the left and one on the right, placing his lips on mine, shushing the moans i had and he went quicker with his thrusts, parting his own lips now and then to let out a groan before putting them right where they belong.. he then parted them again to let out a groan, i then sunk my teeth to around where this ‘X’ tattoo just above his collarbone was, the noise that escaped him was so.. attractive. as i stopped sucking on it and giving him probably a hickey, he jumped directly on my neck, planting his own hickeys peppered all round my neck, collarbone, and even some around my cleavage.

He continued going until I felt that knot in my stomach, felt like i was seeing stars “Go on, girl, i feel y’, good girl, cmon.” i rolled my eyes to the back of my head and suddenly, a wet noise came out, almost sounding like water coming out there. Even Daryl stopped and looked down in shock, “Damn, woman.. y’ a squirter..” he breathed out and I looked down, a small puddle of water underneath me, water droplets dripping down his thigh. I bit my lip and looked up at him. “I’m being genuine when i say this.. i didnt know i could do that.” he raised an eyebrow, surprised. “So much for not feelin’ it sweetheart, now y’ gonna do it again f’me.” he pushed fully back into me and grunted. “You’re so wet.” he winced and started thrusting.

He gained speed, if felt like i was about to finish all over again “Cmon just one more time..” and thats all i needed, it was like a waterfall to be honest, it felt amazing.. then like that, he came too, a groan escaping his lips for the final time before he collapsed on my chest, looking at me as i looked at him, both of us panting, breathlessly, he then pressed a kiss just filled with passion on my lips.

“Thought you hated me, Dixon.” he shook his head “Never have, js hated how pretty y’ were and how i always dreamt of y’ wrapped around my cock. Y’ came into my head almost every single night and i couldnt stand it.. the way you gave me that fuck’n attitude made me feel like you knew.” this made me chuckle abit , him looking at me as if he seen a ghost. “So you just wanted me wrapped round your cock then you might’ve started liking me?” he shook his head. “Y’ twisting my words, ive never not liked ya’. When y’ not talking to me and y’ talking to others y’ not bad. I know that i prolly ruined my chances and all-” i took his neck then pulled him in for a kiss. “Shut up and stop being silly, no chances were ruined. Now let’s get out of here- after i find a new shirt.” he laughed slightly and nodded, i went looking for a shirt that actually looked good, a pink jumper, sure, put it on then prepared to escape, some walkers were gone from the door, we let 2 in at a time till eventually it was fine to leave.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon smut #norman reedus x reader #smut #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #alexandria #xxmileyrosexx

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honeytonedhottie · 4 months ago

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honey's guide to winter⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❄️💕

winter is my SEASON. as a december baby and a certified winter princess im qualified to talk about to have the most princessy, sugary winter that you've ever had and were gonna explore just that in this post…💬🎀

WINTER BEAUTY ;

when i think of winter beauty i think of glittery, shimmery eyelids and frosty pink lips. glittery nails, long dolly lashes, and LOTS and lots of ribbons and furry accessories. winter beauty is about looking fabulously flushed from the cold, looking and feeling like a glittery winter fairy ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅💕

lets start off with the makeup. first and foremost wash ur face and prep ur skin cuz it makes ur makeup look 10x better…💬🎀

♡ prime and prep ur skin ♡ put on ur foundation

when putting on foundation it helps to apply the product onto the top of ur hand and apply with a brush for more coverage 💓🍨

♡ next, use some concealer as needed ♡ fill in ur brows

♡ now feel free to prep ur eye lids if u have some redness, but we're gonna go in with an icy eyeshadow. for this look lets do a light blueish grey tone and just put that all over our eyelid

♡ put a darker blue color on the outer corner of ur eyes, and very gently blend outwards towards ur brows as u see in the first photo above. then go in with an angelic light blue on the inner area of ur eyelid (not the inner corner) ♡ use a bit of eyeliner to make ur eyes stand-out

this makeup look is focused highly on the EYES and the lips so feel free to do ur face as u normally would, contouring, blush etc ❄️🍧

♡ go in with some GLITTERY eyeshadow to make ur eyes shine and you can NEVER have enough shimmer ♡ next put on some half lashes because they rly pull this look together and dont forget to apply mascara onto ur lower lashes to make ur eyes look fuller ♡ a little highlight under ur brows for that blingy 2000's look

now lets talk about how to do the PERFECT FROSTY LIP. u wanna start by outlining ur lips with a lip liner that is on the rosier side. nyx has a lot of good ones like that. go in with a baby pinkish or a light pink lipstick (i say both these things cuz you'll know what looks good on u) and finish off with a shimmery lipgloss

furthermore we need a yummy winter scent! invest in some yummy scents like…💬🎀

♡ soft, powdery scents

♡ warm cashmeres and cake scents

♡ the bath and body works snowflakes and cashmere scent specifically is so nostalgic to me

♡ frosty petal and berry scents

we should also be prepared to protect our gorgeous doll skin from the harsh winter weather so make sure that ur doing ur skincare accordingly! look for creamy, hydrating formulas and make sure to cleanse gently in little circles ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ after you've cleansed, use a nice rich serum to keep ur skin plump and hydrated and NOT dry.

another thing, chapped lips are a NO this winter so make sure that ur walking around with ur yummy chapstick to protect ur lips from the cold and keep them pillowy soft…💬🎀

♡ creamy lipglosses

♡ whipped soaps and body butters

WINTER ESSENTIALS ;

during the winter time, use a lotion that is on the thicker side because we should be moisturized all year round but ESPECIALLY in the winter. because its so cold, lean towards lotions that are thicker and creamier. also look out for lotions that have oils, or glycerin/sodium lactate (these are all humectants and they're FANTASTIC for hydrating ur skin).

♡ thick lotions, creams and body butters

♡ a christmas wishlist written in a pink glitter gel pen OR a fluffy pink pen

♡ chapstick and LOTS of shimmery lipgloss

♡ herbal teas and supplements

during the winter time, there we're exposed to reduced sunlight, and seasonal illnesses. and that not hot!! so make sure that ur taking supplements like vitamin D (cuz during the winter time, we tend to spend more time indoors and have less exposure to sunlight, which is crucial for vitamin D synthesis) ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ along with other things like zinc, elderberry, and other probiotics.

DISCLAIMER : its crucial for u to do ur own research when it comes to ur health so make sure that u do that before applying anything that u learn on the internet for ur own safety!…💬🎀

some teas that i recommend in the winter time is ginger tea, peppermint tea and lemon balm tea. i also rly love rosehip tea cuz it is SUCH a treat 💕

♡ hot chocolate with pink marshmallows and whipped cream

♡ a bouncy blowout

♡ big fluffy lashes

WINTER FASHION ;

winter is literally THEE season for over the top accessories like earmuffs and mittens. invest in some super cute fluffy earmuffs and gloves, fluffy boots and puffy coats with fur trimmed that are cinched at the waist to look like an adorable winter doll! mini skirts, tights and leg warmer combo is also very doll for the winter.

this winter we're giving the baby pink and white color scheme, with long silky hair, icy pink lips, victoria's secret pink perfumes and BODY GLITTER…💬🎀

on the winter wardrobe shopping list/checklist we have thick tights and stockings, thick comfy pajamas, a couple or more cute pairs of boots, a winter coat etc.

ribbons

legwarmers

thick tights

thick stockings

comfy pjs

boots

adorable winter coat

fur coat

some more things that are rly winter-esque in fashion are those fur coats. they're SO luxurious and so pretty + they keep u warm so they're an absolute STAPLE when it comes to winter fashion. look for things that are FUZZY cuz they rly radiate those amazing winter vibes.

WINTER MOOD BOARDS ;

PREPPING FOR WINTER ;

♡ buy some new body scrubs. because its so cold and we're usually covering up more during the winter months, its the perfect opportunity to work on and perfect ur body care routine so dont neglect that

♡ buy a nice fuzzy blanket or one of those heated blankets cuz shit gets cold, and we wanna stay as warm and toasty as possible 💕

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yannasuniverse · 2 months ago

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𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭! 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Has a makeup bag at her dorm for you if you ever got ready at her dorm.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Let’s you do makeup looks on her all the time she basically your doll.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Has you do her makeup for events she gets invited to when she gets ask about her look she always starts with her makeup shutout you out.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Proud of you when you do a big artist look for their music video or a big event.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Goes to your classes that you teach and help’s your set up and clean up after.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Watch’s you do your makeup all the time.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Got some good skin care advice from you for things she didn’t know how to fix.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Did your makeup once and she did really good and was really proud of herself.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Help’s you organize all of your makeup she brought you little desk drawer.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Goes into your makeup and test out your lip gloss or your products that you don’t use.

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 Love’s when you do 2000’s makeup she think’s you look so good with it on.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚: Am I the only one who loves playing In makeup just for fun😭

©𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

#juju watkins x reader #juju watkins #wbb x reader #wbb #women's basketball #wcbb x reader #womens basketball #usc trojans #usc wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #wbb imagine #usc women’s basketball

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m0chisenpai · 6 months ago

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Mochi what do you think about 90s model reader (think brandi quinones) and loumand (they 100 percent watch fashions shows in modern days)?

Its cannon that they like people who capture attention (*coff coff* lestat). I think they would meet her in a show and would send her flowers and letters to court her and all that jazz

Sorry if this is weird :/

vogue

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which your pefermonce off and on the runway catches their attention

author note: I ate this up so much, I literally scoured Pintrest and fell down a rabbit hole and have to fight every desire in my body to do another multipart series for this

The production people move like flies past your eyes while you sit in your regal beauty. Eyes unblinking, legs crossed perfectly, your hair now braided pulled up into a bun with a few pieces falling and curled.

You hold the hand of Armand, his finger runs over and over. You've come to learn this calms not just your nerves but his as well. Louis remains off to the side, he is weary of cameras these days. Preferring to leave you and Armand to such matters.

But when you pout those lips and flutters those ethereal eyes he relents to sit to the sides.

When the interviewer settles in the chair he has your attention and your back straightens.

"Runway, Vogue and Dior, red carpets, music videos. But your most recent appearance in the critically acclaimed rock star The Vampire Lestat's music video put's you back in the public eye when you should look much more...different." That breaks your picturesque facade with a light giggle that crinkles your dark lined eyes,

"That damned name'

'Calm yourself my love.' You catch Louis' fleeting gaze.

"How does the face of the 80s and 90s reappear in the 2000s rained in blood and completely untouched by age?"

"Hmm I think I have my wonderous loves to thank for that, there are only so many things that can hide the thief of the night that is time. But I seem to be lucky to have escaped its grasp." Armand places a languid kiss to the back of your hand while Louis raises his glass from the side.

"I believe the Gift only encapsulated the beauty she had from the moment we first met." Armand speaks up.

"And this would be during your rookie years as an athlete may say?"

"Yes at the beginning of my runway career in my early 20s, though I would not turn till 30. Around the mid 80s I was found by my lovely companions when I was at my lowest. Watching from the sides. And I did everything to ensure not to fall in love."

"Cheeky." Louis coos in your mind.

"Let's go back then, how were you back then? You say you were at your lowest but your face was desired by so many."

"Beauty, fame, money, sex is all so fleeting. And the fashion industry sucked every bit out of you till you were a husk for them to drag along until the needles and knife was needed to hide any evidence of your decline."

Armand will never admit it out loud but he was particularly fond of the 80s and 90s. He loved the fashions o each era, but he fell in love with runway. It was theatre in an entirely new facet. Louis can recall, though his companions face was stone cold, the glimmer of warmth in his eyes that watched each and every model. Catching every small finite detail.

Louis was more than happy to donate and invest in the ocassional piece for Armand who returned the favor. Until one evening they are encaptured by a beauty amount the sea of tall skinny legs.

This angel that graced the runway one evening of Paris Fasion week. It was dull, Armand confided in Louis as they dressed for the show they and and a few exclusive members were invited to.

One by one Armand began to count them like sheep until she entered. A sheer black tube tob pencil skirt dress with a billowy white blouse beneath. Your eyes are smoky and sharp and your lips a bright chery red. When you walk, you lack the stiffness the other girls move with, no no you glide. The runway is your stage, you dance so beautifully.

Armand sits up as you walk past. He neded you then, he neededyou now.

When you are off you brush past the fussy designers who bark orders in French that is too fast and English far too broken. All you care to know is you have a period of relief to indulge in a smoke and soon after a bump from one of your acquaintances.

You slump in your seat, a cigarette warms you up as you enjoy the momentary silence until you are up again. You grow tired, bored of this. You see it boiling in your eyes, past the makeup, the eye liner and rouge.

From your side one of the assistants carefully moves to your side.

"For you ma'am a gift from some of our most generous investors of the arts."

"M' not sleeping with them" you mumble around the still lit cigarette which dangles from your lips as you open the card tucked into the dozens of fresh roses.

"A rose for a rose." You grumble putting out your cigarette on the card and getting up to squeeze into the sheer scandalous dress though you would hardly call it that with the pièce de résistance being an intricate veil that twists and covers and is encrusted with diamonds around your face and binding in the back.

As you go to line up, standing still for any changes and a quick make up touch you are nudged to get in line. But a thought lingers in your mind.

When you walk you can't help but wonder, which one of you wants to sleep and tell the tale, hm?

"On the contrary my dear." You almost falter when you turn to walk back. That man's voice sends shives down your spine as you carefully make sure not to falter. "We would prefer to have you more than just in the flesh."

His partner to the left flashes you a cocky smile. He's lucky you are being watched otherwise you would have scowled.

"Aw, don't scowl like that chere."

They follow you to London. Your picture is in all the tabloids and paprazzi is stationed outside of your hotel where you quckly find the bar. In an act of defiance, and trying to add your flare, you stopped during midwalk to kiss the collar of your mysterious suitor leaving a perfect red stain.

Since then your manager has been bombarded with numerous calls for editorials, spreads, and interviews.

"Another glass for her please."

Your eyes cut to the beautiful man whose eyes look enchanting through the fog of smoke he carefully clows away from your direction. A black turtle neck tucked into a pair of slacks to battle the chill.

But no words can describe the work of art that are his eyes which stare deep into your yours,

"I don't sleep with fashion fanatics, not anymore at least" you mumble into the dirty martini before a new one is placed in front of you.

The corner of his lips twitch into a mix of a smile and a smirk.

"Nah I'm not into the whole art of fashion. Just a simple collector is all," he watches how your luscious lips leave a red imprint along the rim of the glass.

"Oh? And do I fit your collection?"

He hums, "I'd dare to say you outshine it."

"Let me guess," you rest your cigarette in the ashtray to give him your undivided attention. "Your wife wants to watch doesn't she?" Your eyes look pass his shoulder at the women and some of your fellow workers.

"Your far off. Got no wife, but my companion does enjoy to watch ocasionally." Louis leans forward, his chin on your shoulder and his cold lips touch your ear. "And he's been watching this entire time my dear."

Your head quickly turns and sure enough, a man watches at the end of the bar. A gass half filled, his both arms rest on the counter and his eyes remain unmoving on you both.

"Put her tab on my card will you?" Your mysterious heart throb drops a card that clanks and you catch a glimps of the name.

"Louis de Pointe du Lac" you read it to yourself as he stands to walk languidly to the man. Placing a hand don his shoulder and sitting beside him.

You should be unnerved by their constant appearances, but you enjoy this game of cat and mouse. Sharing words at afterparties, drinks at hotel bars, and one night together in the satin sheets of Milan.

Your room is always filled with flowers when you arrive. Champagne and chocolates await by your bedside. You never fail to find their eyes in the crowd, you dare to say this is what love must feel like.

You keep the notes and letters from Armand. His way with words are what bring the light back in your eyes as you walk and model.

Whatever it is, your agent tells you one day, keep it up. because you begin t see a spike in your career and appearances. Leading you to walk your first large red carpet event.

When you step out of the shining vintage car immediately you are met with flashes, clinging to your sur shrug for comfort imagining their arms as you walk and pause for questions and for photographs.

"Can we be under the assumption you have a special someone?" Your interviewer asks over the roar of paparazzi and photographers at a red carpet event.

"Hmm, I guess you could continue to speculate." You give a cheeky grin to the camera as you walk off with a flurry of questions at your leathered heels.

When you enter the museum hosting the charity event they await you. Your drop your shrug into the arms of one of the attendants while Armand takes hold of your clutch. You walk in between them looking at the beautifully restored and donated pieces. The theme is very rococo and you adore it, the artwork, pottery and ceramics and the beautifully restored gowns on display.

"Oh my goodness look at this one, it reminds me of a Monet" you coo as you stand before the water lily pond. Your hand on your chest as you pause. You wish it were yours. Though it is not the original you want it still.

And that's enough for Armand to place a red sticker near the artists name.

"Oh you didn't have to, Armand." you pout at him as he cups your jaw looking into your eyes.

"You clearly desired it, did you not?" When all you do is nod he hums. His thumb begins to stroke the soft skin of your jaw. "Then you shall have it."

"We would travel the cities I was in. And during the off season I spent here or in the comforts of one of our other homes. I believe Berlin will be our destination this year for the holidays, right my love?"

And how can Armand no to those eyes.

They gleam with mischief, golden flakes sparkle in your bright eyes. "Whatever her hearts desires I have assumed the duty to fulfill each ofthem, we both do."

You shush him, had you still been mortal you swear your cheeks would be flushed.

The interviewer

"But I believe this Gift would have to be my most treasured one."

#iwtv x reader #iwtv #louis de pointe du lac x reader #armand x reader #louis x reader #loumand x reader

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msallurea · 1 year ago

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Things to Manifest Because You Can pt. 3🎀🌸

Superpowers

Having a pet

Communicating with animals

Changing your birth name/birthplace

Changing Zodiac/birth chart

Changing ethnicity (!!!very controversial btw!!!)

Apple products

No longer pooping

Desired scented pheromones

Pretty handwriting

Desired talents

Naturally pretty nails

Always being spotlessly clean

Pretty feet

Sweet tasting tongue

Sparkly tears/pastel colored tears

Revising trauma/revising bad memories

Changing history

Aestheticallg pleasing neighborhood

Puffy glossy lips naturally

Pretty aegyo sals/never be cringe doing aegyo

Desired makeup/skincare products

Having your life like your desired time WITHOUT the toxicity (ex: 2000s aesthetic life, 90s, 80s, etc)

Desired undertones

Perfect health

Always having pretty thoughts

Being spiritually healed

Being social media famous

Always having aesthetic social media content/your social media pages always being your desired aesthetic

Having desired body blush

Being a irl anime girl/anime boy

#msallurea #law of assumption #manifestation #my blog

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hysterical-honey · 1 day ago

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Visits Within The Night

Black Milk - Massive Attack

Vamp! Caitlyn x Fem! Reader x Werewolf! Vi Ao3 Word Count: 3,222 Spotify Playlist Summary: By day, you work a well-paying job at the local corner shop, by night you take college classes, and while you sleep, she visits you. TWs//: 18+ ONLY, Reader is fem, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Cait feeds from you while you sleep, Vampire! Caitlyn, Werewolf! Vi, Slow Burn Alternate Universe - Late 90s, Early 2000s, Canon Divergence. Supernatural Elements, Somnophilia, Bloodsucking, Vi is a Dork, Mentions of wet dreams, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Friends to lovers to enemies to lovers again, Bitter exes, Forbidden Love, Cannibalism as a metaphor for intimacy/love. A/N: This is a little self-indulgent. It will have multiple chapters, so I suppose if you find yourself invested, be on the lookout!

Only in dreams do you see her, visions of fallacy and restraint. You cannot recall her face, only her voice—only two little words she greets you with.

"May I ?" Her accent is foreign but not entirely alien; she is of high prestige, you must assume. The tone is always the same, mocking, almost cheeky in how she inquires, as if you have a choice. The pinch of pain followed by the all-encompassing relief of weightlessness is nearly addictive. Waves of heat and pleasure-borne agony course through your tragically human veins while she feeds from you greedily, as piggish as she can be, without killing you. The flesh of her stark white cheek is pressed to the warm column of your shoulder—the sensation frigid yet peculiarly soothing. As her fangs withdraw, her chest heaves, yet there is no sense of breath. Only mutterings and the slithering feeling of her wet tongue lapping at the fresh wounds, her lips press soft kisses to the puffy red flesh of your pretty throat. Cold, thin hands cup and cradle your face as you assume what must be her forehead presses gently to yours. "Thank you." You are left with those two short words before waking up in a cold sweat in your bed—a dream—as it always is and must be.

The darkness of your room was cut with the elegant and imposing light of the moon, the satin curtains shifting idly under the breeze that seemed to billow from the open window—a window you do not recall having left open. The pace of your heart quickens at such a capacity you worry it may burst up from the confines of its marrow cage. Naturally, it's cold; mid-January is not known for its warm, sweet evenings. With a grouchy huff, you rise onto shaking legs. The pit of your skull feels like mush, and the sensation is similar to oversleeping mixed in with an apparent lack of enough. The bed's wooden frame creaks in objection as you sit back down, elbows resting on your knees, hands keeping your head in place while you slouch in an attempt to regain some sense of stability. It happens sometimes; you wake up dizzy and disoriented, chalking it up to the lack of sleep and overabundance of caffeinated products. After a while, you were sure your body might get used to it, but it only worsened. The bouts occasionally flared at work, leading you to take the counter and register rather than any heavy lifting. Vi took on most of the heavy lifting.

Violet Dupont was a woman you liked to work with and, dare you say, looked forward to seeing. It was oddly endearing, no matter her cheesy, sweet-oriented nicknames and penchant for subtle ( or not so subtle ) flirting during work hours. She seemed unsure about how she spoke to you, even as she talked confidently, almost boastfully; it was somewhat performative but endearing nonetheless, especially as she'd constantly ask to come over to escape the apparent hell that was her sister/roommate, Powder. You didn't know much about her, only that according to Vi, she doesn't do dishes often enough and clogs the poor shower drain nearly every time she uses it.

Again, endearing, somewhat.

Then, there's Vander, your boss. Who only tends to work during the midnight hours, which would be odd if Zaun wasn't as heavily drug-infested as it was. You'd only ever heard stories of how quickly things could get messy, so you never dared to complain about your current position as a cashier during the day shift.

You'd stand up again with a faint grumble, peering at the blue artificial light of your alarm clock— 4:35 AM is displayed. You have about an hour before you're expected to be at the store; the morning to mid-day shift wasn't terrible, albeit time-consuming. You adored the time you spent with Vi and the peculiar customers who tended to wash up inside; no matter how insufferable, you tried to make the most of it. Speaking of the most, you'll leave the chilly haze of your bedroom, walking to the bathroom down the hall. The matted plush carpet under your toes is not quite uncomfortable but still as bothersome as when you first moved in.

A cozy two-story out near the train tracks, a good ten minutes from the corner store, and an equally good fifteen from Piltovers Community College, though it isn't perfect, you make due; it was old and rickety— almost Victorian if it weren't for the renovations made obviously in the 70s. Gaudy wallpaper and a stylized purple kitchen. Wood paneling and shaggy carpets where there should not be. It was habitable and comfortable, at least when it wasn't raining and your basement wasn't flooded. The depths of wood that separated the sister cities, the train tracks that lead to areas with far more promise. A mid-western pit of peculiar happenstance, of advancement and stagnation all the same.

You didn't grow up here, nor do you have much plan to remain here once your education is over.

—---

The early morning air is thick with dew and the sharp, frigid stench of pine. It makes you shiver under the cotton and wool layers of your coat, cardigan, and subsequent layers of fabric. The walk there isn't all bad; the sun peeks over black mountainous trees, enveloping Zaun in a faint blood-orange hue, and the signs of thin ice melting are evident as the water gushes and flows down sewer drains. It's peaceful, almost calm. The calm is cut with the faint buzz of the store hitting your ears as you walk up to the door. Swinging it open, you're greeted with the front door's bell as it lets out a distinct 'ding.' The analog clock behind the front counter reads clearly in Roman numerals— 5:27 AM, just in time to get punched in before Vi, you think, before walking into the back breakroom and seeing the door of Vander's office partly open. Knocking gently before coming in, Vi planted herself at the edge of his desk, palms keeping her in place as she leaned against the hard oak. The harsh white fluorescent light somehow accentuated the deep maroon of her hair. Those baggy dark wash Levis she always wore hung from her hips, the edge of the top button peeking out from the thermal long-sleeve. You could swear to god she had about six of the same shirt, just in different colors. This one is a washed-out red with a long black stripe across her chest and a much smaller reddish gray one across the middle.

"Hey," You start, a slight smile on your face. "You're a little early, huh?" Making your way over to the wall-mounted time punch machine. Vi would only shrug, eyes on the floor as if in deep thought over something. "Is Vander not in?" You cut the silence once again.

"No, he called me in early for help with something..." She murmured, and it was clear something was very wrong.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just...you know, the typical bullshit." Vi finally looks over at you, her expression carrying something unreadable. She was always terrible at masking her true feelings but attempted to do so without the flare of humor she tended to stick to.

"Mhm...are you okay? You look..." You'd gesture to her, the motion making her smile faintly.

"—Aw, yeah, I'm good...tired as fuck coming in at like..." She'd peer up at the wall-mounted grandfather up in the corner of the office. "Shit, he called me in at like three or four?" She'd huff, rubbing at her face. Faint bags under her pretty blue eyes, mascara speckled onto freckled skin, her little 'VI' tattoo prevalent on the right of her face. "I don't even remember." A long sigh left her as she sat up straight and stretched with a careful groan. The edge of her shirt rode up for a moment, a moment you'd been granted with a maroon happy trail and the faint outline of her abdominal muscles.

"What for?" You quickly look back at her face, and Vi shrugs once again.

"It's not important. Sevika wasn't in last night, so he called me." She yawned; she didn't want to answer, or perhaps it wasn't such a big deal. It just felt odd to you. Vander wasn't known for calling either of you or at least not one that you knew of. What the hell could a man like Vander need help with anyway? Either way, you'd let it go, satisfied in some respect by Vi's answer and not too concerned with its peculiarity. After all, why would she lie? "Little Debbie trucks supposed to swing by today, too," She says, following as you walk out of Vander's office and into the break room, a hum of acknowledgment being all you would respond with before grabbing at the padlock and sliding in your combination.

"You excited for your cupcakes?" You'd tease, pulling the locker door open before taking your coat off, giving her a sidelong glance as she leaned against the creamy grey of the cold metal lockers.

"Well, duh, but they got those new ones in, too; I might try the brownies at lunch if they aren't bought out in four seconds." She'd say her smile was always infectious, the same with that little, amused huff she'd let out whenever she'd joke. Vi loved little snack cakes to the point that it was silly how she'd pout when the store ran out. Vander allowed both of you to pick and take from the store for lunch, not to an excessive degree, but sometimes you'd take a Coke or water from the fridge, though more often than not, you'd pay for it even as he said you didn't need to. Vi wasn't quite as shame-filled about it, but you knew that had more to do with her relationship with Vander. You were sure he was her uncle or maybe a family friend? You never asked directly, nor did you care enough to.

"Well, let's hope, then," You'd murmur, shutting the locker door after putting on your nametag. "For my sake more than yours." Vi would give a vaguely mock-offended look before laughing.

"Whatever, you know I'm only kidding when I pout over that shit."

"Mhm, totally kidding when you beg Vander to put in a new order."

"Hey, I have two things that bring me joy outta this job. A free cupcake and the sweet thing I get to work with."

You'd roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Vi quirks a smile.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that." She'd move in a little and a low whisper. "I see how you look at me, muffin." She spoke softly, almost teasing, which was infuriating because she wasn't wrong. You could only roll your eyes, pointing your face to the side toward the coolers. Scoffing out a laugh, hoping she can't see the faint red of your cheeks.

"Muffin?" You counter, looking over at her again.

"Yeah, muffin…you know, cupcakes are a sweet little dessert, but muffins are a reliable breakfast."

"Oh my god, you're being ridiculous ." You couldn't help but laugh.

"Am I? I mean, I'm not wrong. You're sweet but not too sweet...Filling—" She'd stop just short of whatever she was about to say, to your confusion, before the bell of the door opening would break through the ambient silence. A huff left Vi, though she didn't seem overly agitated as she peeked over to see who or how many customers might've just waltzed in, perhaps mildly annoyed as she looked back over to you. Eyes meeting for a mere second, her mouth opening as if to say more, but you'd cut her off.

"Let me get it." It was a rather childish song and dance you two had, Vi being flirtatious and 'sweet'— perhaps goofy in some respect, only for the interruption to break the tension and leave you both as you were before, tiptoeing around the subject for a cause neither of you can reasonably infer out.

—---

It's only about an hour before lunch that you start to feel light-headed, your pulse pounding within the pit of your skull. It's a Wednesday just after noon, so perhaps you're lucky Vi is off taking care of the Little Debbie shipment, and patrons haven't begun to pour in from the local Middle and High school being let out yet. You sit on the stool against the wall, under the cigarettes, leaning back, then forward, resting your forehead in your palms, trying not to focus on the sharp haze clouding your brain's spongy matter. You hear the faint sound of Vi walking in, not registering it until she places a hand on your shoulder, the touch gentle and warm.

"Hey—are you alright?" Her tone is soft and worried.

"Yeah... yeah, headache." You clarify; Vi seems to understand immediately; you've been dealing with it for months.

"You want me to get the pills from your bag?" She asks, and you pause, gently nodding before Vi walks to the back. "Have you been to a doctor or anything?"

"Yeah...It's not anything...wrong, just something about the change in weather or stress— whatever." You couldn't bring yourself to question it, to wonder or worry too much about the fact it only really started once you started attending Piltovers Community College. Suddenly, she'd be in front of you again, offering the bottle of Frovatriptan.

"Has it always been a problem?" Vi asks with concern, but her tone is oddly suspicious.

"No...just, uhm..." You'd take the pills from her hand, press down on the lid with your palm, and turn it. Popping it off with a faint huff, Vi moved to grab your water bottle, handing it off as you'd dry swallow a pill and chase it with water. The rest of the day felt like a blur, a mess of people and a need to keep up a sweet disposition—It was suffocating, though Vi was always a joy; her one-liners and witty little attempts at being subtle were starting to grate on your already degrading mental stability, and perhaps she took note of that because now she was hovering around like a puppy with a sickly master.

Endearing, as always.

Even once Sevika came in, you couldn't notice how they both seemed to look at each other— as if waiting for you to walk out of the breakroom so they could talk. Vander didn't come in, which was odd, but you couldn't fathom staying any longer. As 5:35 PM caused the bell to toll, you'd clock out and take swift leave. The air is frigid but settled compared to the morning, the stench of oils, pine, and something putrid you'd gotten used to since your time in Zaun. It wasn't exactly a calm atmosphere, unlike during the morning, but it wasn't busy or distracting. A pleasant enough quiet for the noise of your mind to dissolve. That was until you took notice of the black Chevy Impala pulling up next to you on the sidewalk.

"Hey." The front window would slide down just slightly enough to reveal those Powder blue eyes. "I'll drive you home."

"Vi, you don't need to do that...I have classes tonight anyway."

"Muffin, I'm not asking to stick around...I don't want you walking out there." Stick around; sometimes you wish she might, and sometimes you wish she'd ask to come over when you wouldn't be so busy. With a heavy sigh, you'd walk around, removing your backpack and setting it down on the front seat floor, just below the dash where your feet sit.

The car smells like artificial cherry, Vanilla, fabric softener, and oil alongside something very... Vi. It's an odd mix but something that oddly soothes you. Vi rests within the leather of the driver's seat, relaxed but at attention with one hand on the wheel; the car starts to move only after your seat belt is buckled. Silence takes over, and the faint sound of something from the radio prevails.

"So..." she starts. "How are classes going?" Her eyes flick over at you.

You shrug, humming as if to think before taking your eyes away from the side window view.

"Good," You murmur. "—as good as they can be."

"Yeah, I bet...Couldn't catch me dead in a room full of bloodsuckers—" She'd cut herself off, laughing weakly, nervously. If you weren't so mentally gone, maybe you'd be more weirded out. Of course, you knew the relationship between the sister cities was abnormal. Piltover was nicer; they held the Courthouse, the wealthy, the sheriff's office, and the pretty statues of those who made it out and made a name for themselves. In comparison, Zaun held factories, mines, and a small hospital—alongside an onslaught of drug addicts.

"Bloodsuckers? More like mood killers; everyone's super serious except Cait." Caitlyn Kiramman, a classmate in your psychology class, is a woman who seems to haunt your unsuspecting thoughts and dreams. Many nights have been ruined by a sudden and heated need, thoughts of her, of Vi. The image of Caitlyn molding and washing away into Vi, her strong hands roaming over your body, her pretty lips pressed to the flesh of your abdomen, those eyes sharp and needful.

"Cait."

"Yeah, Cait, I have her in my uhm—"

"Uh-huh...Did your headaches start when your classes started? Or after you moved here?"

"Classes— but, she's really strange, Cait; I mean...she has this posh accent, but says she grew up around here? I mean, Vander has a weird inflection, but he's told me he moved here forever ago, right? That makes sense...I think she fakes it." Vi stops the car harshly just as she pulls up to your house. The trees are tall and imposing, the green of pine, and the faint sound of something far off; you look over at her, her eyes wide as if something just clicked into place.

"Yeah, she probably does..." Her voice was faint, just as it had been this morning. Her expression mellowed out before she looked over at you. Her entire expression screamed guilt—guilt at her inability to say what she wants to, to assume what she knows deep down, though you take it as jealousy.

"I'm not into her..." A lie, maybe, mostly, but Vi giving you that look makes your stomach twist.

"I'm not worried about that," she clarifies, her little smile momentarily returning as she breathes out the words. "It's...nothing," she says, peering over at you and trying to reassure you, but her attitude made you uneasy, and Vi seemed well enough aware of that. An awkward ambient quiet takes over the car. This time, you break the silence.

"Yeah...well, I need to, um..."

"Oh, yeah— don't let me keep you." Her tone was apologetic, that sweet smile still plastered onto her face.

The next thing you know, you're back in your house, Vi's car is gone, and the pounding in your head is back in full force. Sitting down on the soft cushion of your couch, you groan; you still have a class tonight—though, strangely, the idea of seeing Caitlyn makes it seem tolerable.

#arcane #arcane x reader #vi arcane #violet arcane #vi x fem reader #vi x reader #vi x caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x fem reader #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x vi #ao3 link #ao3 #vampire caitlyn #vampire caitlyn x reader #werewolf vi #werewolf vi x reader #writers on tumblr

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apocalypse-shuffle · 3 months ago

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ERIK | THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (multi interaction)

—

“The Roll and Revolve” (Erik | The Phantom of the Opera x Fem!Reader)

| While attending the masquerade ball the Red Death asks for your hand to dance.

| SFW, at most canon typical violence is mentioned, dancing -dancer!reader & african!reader

| Reader’s 18+ and one of the older girls in the dance line along with Sorelli. (Pic source: left•Juan Navarro/Saulo Vasconcelos’s Phantom from the POTO Mexican production [1999-2000], middle•Emilie Kouatchou’s run as Christine from the POTO Broadway production, right•John Owen-Jones’s Phantom from the POTO West End production [2011].)

| 3k+ words

Fluttering from group to group at a masquerade ball was apparently not all everyone cracked it up to be.

You stop, standing off to the side of the entirely too unappealing table of food assortments. Some of the food even appeared to have gone bad to you, speckled in powdered sugar only for show; to mask the rotten truths underneath.

You’ve steered clear of dining at all throughout the night for that very reason. The truths they hid were clearly of the stomach pain and extended time on the loo type, and looks always had the chance of stowing deceit.

The opera house was full tonight, the date a prelude to the new year, with its high ceilings and garnished walls host to all manner of primed woman and man dressed in a bid to garner the most envy in their best furs and feathers, masks and fedoras. The only thing consistent amongst you all being your efforts to hide your identities from one another; crowd after crowd of people decked out in masks of all kinds that hid their faces from the world.

Where you stand a voice rises to greet you, managing to be heard even over the echoing sounds of the opera’s orchestra.

“Y/n, y/n! Did you hear the news?”

The bottom of your crisp white gown, a gift from your mother, kisses the floor as you shift your feet to intercept the few girls from the dance line coming to speak with you. To your surprise Christine is amongst them.

“Clearly not,” you respond to Jammes.

The brunette bounces, near manic smile on her face and Sorelli beside her rolls her eyes.

“It’s not nearly as entertaining as she’s making it.”

“More like terrifying,” Meg pipes up.

Your eyebrows raise, “Was there another death?”

It’s Christine who answers your weary inquiry, bright hair bouncing as she shakes her head.

“It’s not nearly as serious,” she shrugs. “More like a ghost story than anything-”

Jammes cuts her off with an excited squeal.

“The Opera Ghost is rumored to show up tonight!”

Oh.

There was a good second there where your eyes were starting to widen but they drop back to half mast behind the white swan-like pantalone mask you’re wearing, the feathers of which tickle your face as you sigh. You wave the girl's excitement away.

“You’re so overdramatic, Jammes, everyone knows the OG is just a rumor the stagehands made up to scare us.”

“And that the police is sustaining so they can get out of properly catching a murderer,” Sorelli scoffs.

You nod at her and your other friend just pouts.

“You all have such little whimsy.”

From where she’s got her arms wrapped around herself Meg laughs, a nearly startled noise of contempt.

“Maybe we just don’t want to make a myth out of an actual killer,” she says.

Now it’s Jammes’s turn to roll her eyes.

“I say it’s just you guys being boring,” she flips her hair over her shoulder. “But whatever, I've got a violinist to dance with so I’ll see you all later.”

She’s gone just like that. Meg frowns after her and you and Sorelli make kissy noises that cause Jammes to giggle as she walks off.

“Which one of them do you think it is?”

“Come on Sorelli, you know it’s Eugène. She misses all her steps during his solos,” you say.

“Actually I think it’s Ahsan, we are getting more Persians lately. He might like to have a change of pace since no one ever really talks to him.”

Your lips purse. You're pretty sure Jammes hasn’t even noticed the Populaire’s newest members.

“Just because you’re interested in Ahsan doesn’t mean she is, Sorelli. What do you think Christine?”

From where she’s just about completely checked out from the conversation making heart eyes at the Vicomte from across the room, Christine startles. You’d joke but the navel man is staring back at her just as intently. Her eyes flutter up to meet yours eventually though.

“Um- I don’t know? I think maybe you’re right about Eugène, Y/n, but would you all mind if I excused myself?”

You all give some manner of affirmation but Christine is already moving anyway so it wouldn’t have mattered much if you hadn’t.

“I wonder what it’s like to hold a man’s attention like that,” Meg sighs.

You shrug, “Well, it’s not always as nice as it seems.”

Her head bobbles as she nods before she’s curtsying and leaving as well, head bowed. Not long after that Sorelli bids you goodbye and goes in search of someone to dance with in front of Madame Giry. She wants lead in the next production since Christine seems set on being Primadonna. You don’t have the heart to tell her that showboating won’t get her any points with the Madame.

All danced and socialized out, but knowing you can’t leave your appearance obligations for the opera house lacking, you content yourself with staying in your tucked away haven by the most unappealing refreshment table at the party.

Your feet tap and you hum along to the orchestra playing as people pass you by. Young couples rushing to someplace private and friends, old and young alike, moving about as they make gossip. Body swaying in place to the music you bask in the fact that you’ve made it, even partially, and soon enough you’d be dancing front on this opera’s stage and stages even beyond it. You’ve seen plenty of other black artists make it, there’s no reason to think that outside of the Americas you couldn’t fight your way to the top too.

You’ve gotten as far as a dance line already.

A poised shadow appears to your left but you do not bother giving anything short of the person’s silhouette a glance. You were in borrowed time at the Palais Garnier. It was best if you didn’t attract any attention and ruin your chances.

Instinctively your hands clasp in front of your body and you rock back onto your heels, humming and tapping ceasing. Stay unheard and you’ll be fine; your dreams of artistry and fame were yet to be dashed.

“Why so solemn?”

You feel your eyes widen, your attention quickly shifting to the shadow. You glance around, but seeing no one else close enough for him to have been talking to instead your gaze fully settles on more than just the man’s silhouette.

The masked man in front of you is completely shadowed in shades of red and fine jewels. The mask masquerading his face, the grimmest sign of the end: an ivory skull. And atop his head bloomed a crown of feathers on a wide brimmed fedora; all the colors of death and decay.

Your heart quickens at his procured visage.

“Me?”

A deep timber falls past lips you can’t see when he chuckles.

“Who else, Mademoiselle?”

“There is no shortage of beautiful women on the dance floor.”

“By why would Erik bother with them when the most beautiful is over here? Tucked in darkness’s warm embrace?”

Your head ducks and your face warms.

“You’re too kind.”

The wide shouldered shadow seems to shake his head, hard to tell with such an elaborate headpiece.

“Oh no! I fantom I have failed to be kind enough.” He sweeps forward, a cape previously bathed in his shadows trailing out behind him, everything lined with jewels shimmering like blood in moonlight. You find yourself ensnared as you look into the great eyes of death.

“When one such as yourself makes a swan’s grace look lacking with her prowess she should expect nothing less than to be bathed in gifts.” Death holds out his gloved hand, and still looking into those dark depths, still looking for the sign of the man underneath, you take it. “Precious flowers: lilacs and lilies…”

A mimicry of a kiss is pressed into your knuckles and you shiver. The hardness of something you’re becoming convinced may have once been an alive man’s touching ever so softly to your ebony skin.

“…roses.” he murmurs finally. “Painstakingly, devotedly, clipped of their thorns so as to not tarnish perfection.”

Your breath comes short as you finally find it. Only a flash, blink and you miss it, but you couldn’t blink. Citrine eyes; ill colored. It makes something in you want to flee, cause a scene in an effort to not be dragged out of the light by this man’s wrongness. Then his words finally reach you.

Words said in that burning liqueur tone that carry your mind away with their unique melody. You find yourself smiling, mouth stretching wide, alabaster teeth gleaming against the contrast of your dark skin.

“I’m not perfect,” you find the urge to argue.

If only to hear his praise some more.

“My Dear, you are my everything. How could you not be perfect?”

“I’m only a chorus dancer.”

“Which is a shame,” he admits.

His tone is solemn like he feels your own disappointment at never being given the chances of the other girls despite dancing with twice their merit.

“It is a shame,” you nod, spine straightening as you grip his hand tighter. The man before you seems to gasp at your assured touch. “To whom do I owe my thanks for such lovely compliments?”

The shadow appears to shrink in on himself for a moment before his grip in turn strengthens and guides you closer together. As he comes more into the light his onsemble sparkles mesmerizingly.

“The Red Death,” he bows, “at your service.”

You laugh. “I admire your dedication to the ball’s theme.”

He makes a humored sound of his own at your acknowledgment of his dramatics.

“It’s for the best I assure you, my dear. Now,” he runs the soft fabric over his thumbs along your bare knuckles, “would you do me the honor of a dance?”

You incline your head, smiling in appraisal as you nod.

“It would be my pleasure, Monsieur Death.”

He leads you from your not-so-hidden corner with a swish of his cape.

You seem to nearly teleport down the stairs with the way he whisks you away so soundly to the ballroom floor. Marble meets the bottoms of your heels as he finds you a good starting position towards the center of the room and, as is in your nature by now, you stand tall in a dancer's carry. He does not let the conversation end as you begin moving.

“Do other things outside of dancing capture your attention?”

“Should there be anything else?”

He laughs as he spins you around, “I suppose not. Dancing is your craft after all.”

“Yes,” you settle into his lead. “Yes it is, but um, I don’t just do ballroom and ballet dancing.”

“No?”

“No. I also dance things far older than my knowledge of ballet, from my people.”

“Amazing,” he says. “You’ll have to show me some day.”

“I’d be happy to,” you give him a small smile.

So near to him as you elegantly weave in between other couples on the floor you can see his eyes very clearly. They are sick looking but they do not lack awareness. The man takes in your every move so intently it makes you breathless. You notice though that he does not meet anyone else’s eyes and uses the wide brim of his hat to block others from seeing him. But not you.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mademoiselle L/n?”

You glance away from his eyes, instead looking at the way whatever mechanism he created allows the mouth of the skull to move with his speech. He must be very rich and worldly if he can acquire or make something like it.

You tilt your head in interest.

“How do you know so much about me and yet I can’t recall ever having seen you before?”

“Technically you are not seeing me now,” he responds easily.

A quiet scoff escapes you as you nod.

“Well then how come I’ve never heard you? A voice as poignant as yours I’m sure I’d remember.”

He does not answer your question.

“Is that what I sound like to you?”

And you do not notice.

“Yes,” you look back into his eyes as your right foot steps back, his left pushing forward. “You have a strong tone but behind it you sound…weary.”

His eyes narrow. Then your dress and his cape are flowing to a still as he stops moving. You look down at your hand on his shoulder, swallowing.

“I do not mean to offend you Monsieur, I apologize.”

You step away, hands sliding from him as embarrassment buzzes up your spine. He probably thinks you called him weak or something, men hated-

“No, please!”

He moves faster than you’re expecting, barely making a noise despite his extravagant costume, and grasps your right hand with his left. You gasp as he settles his other hand on your waist and tugs you closer with strength that didn’t fit him.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers. Your left hand he still has in his he shifts to settle back onto his right arm, and you try to relax.

There is no bone in your body fit to argue with him, nor a ligament that desires to do so.

“Alright, I won’t.” A soft smile pulls at your lips. “I enjoy dancing with you.”

“Thank you. Just know you did not upset me.” For the first time during the whole time you’ve danced he looks past you, gaze far away. “No, you could never upset Erik.”

You marvel at his soft tone and the glossy shine to his eyes as he urges you in motion. He begins swaying to the new song playing and you do the same.

“So your name is Erik then? I wasn’t sure before.”

You take on an affable tone when you speak this time around, glancing away for reprieve from the emotion in his eyes. How you’ve had that effect on him with one dance is beyond you, but you’re remiss to say it doesn’t feel kind of…nice.

Erik nods and those deceptive hands hold your waist just a little tighter. He looks at you again.

“May I ask you a question?”

You nod and he pulls you even closer, his swaying finally turning into steps, and you intuitively follow his lead. The song playing is one you’ve never heard before but it’s haunting. Erik takes to it even better than the last piece; the way he leads you feels like you’re dancing on clouds.

“Have you ever felt lost?”

“I imagine not in the ways you might’ve. “

His eyes crinkle briefly at your words.

“You said earlier that I sound weary, and never doubt I have reason to be so, but it has long begun to get tiring—”

Horns blare, cutting him off. A gasp falls past your lips and, as if on instinct, Erik pulls you closer. Heart pounding and near threatening to clog your throat, you don’t think before you’re splaying your hands over his chest either.

The way you both glance around mirrors each other, but his voice grumbles illegibly once the most likely reason for the cacophony captures the entire crowd’s attention.

The boisterous new leaders of the opera house stand tall behind the railing nearest the staircase that curls down to the ballroom floor, their paper masks in their hands and dressed in their finest costumes.

“Oh,” you laugh, “It’s just Monsieur Moncharmin and Monsieur Richard. They can be so dramatic sometimes, no?”

Your dance partner glances at you narrowly, his irritation for the opera’s new owners heavy in his tone, “‘Dramatic’ is certainly one way to summarize Armand and Firmin alike. Personally, I’d say they both more resemble wallowing buffoons with clothes on.”

Silently, you blink up at him, mouth dropping open in surprise.

Very quickly Erik’s tune changes and his strong hold on you loosens.

“I apologize. The Opera’s new owners have become a point of…vexation for me recently. I did not mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s alright,” you say softly, “I can see how I’ve touched a nerve.”

“I must say you are wrong there, my Dear, you have done no such thing, ” he croons, reaching up to hover a gloved hand over the subtle plump of your cheek. “You have managed to truly make my night, do not discount that.”

He keeps his hand near your face, outlines the side of it with hardly a whisper of a touch while his gaze roves over you as if he’s starved for your very image.

Looking him over you feel much the same, the absence of his touch molding to your dark skin hitting like an unfitting taunt.

“Won’t you touch me?” you whisper, watching the way Erik’s eyes drop to your two-toned lips and take on a sheen of agony all their own.

Fingers ghost feather-light over the plush of them, more of that unfitting mockery. It is a pale substitute for a kiss.

“No,” he answers, voice just as unsteady as his gaze would have you assume. “I fear what might happen if I indulge myself anymore of this…illusion.”

“If you are so tortured as you claim, why not allow yourself a seconds reprieve when it is being offered?” you rush out. Your voice is far firmer than it ought to be around anyone above your stature, but no hint of a reminder to not forget yourself leaves Erik’s mouth. Nor any scoff or harsh glance.

You bring your hand up, desperate to urge him into action. Press your fingers lightly into the back of his hand in a barren plea, and wish for his palm cradling your cheek and for his arm around you to tighten once more.

Wish for his skin against yours. This stranger who has been kinder to you than any Frenchmen before him.

Though you do not push, Erik’s hand freezes beneath your touch and a harsh noise climbs up the back of his throat.

“Erik—”

He jerks his hand from you. Knocks yours aside with a low, pained sound.

In quick succession he steps back too, releasing you from his grip near entirely, the hand you kept on his arm dropping to your side as he continues only to hold the hand he’d grasped. After a moment’s consideration you make a point to squeeze at his hold before stepping back yourself and finally breaking your contact as a whole, struggling to keep the set of your shoulders high.

Erik startles more surely than a horse and you are not sure you’re equipped to handle it.

“I- I must be leaving now,” he rushes out, his pupils are smaller now. His back straighter in compensation.

“Of course,” you reassure him, no small amount of disappointment lingering in your voice despite your best efforts. “Thank you for such a wonderful dance, Erik.”

He nods his agreement, lowering his head as his hand comes up to tamper to some unseen degree at the jaw of his skull. “And I you, Y/n,” he says softly. Your name curling so delicately on his tongue your mind immediately starts running his delivery on repeat.

“In the meantime you will stay on my mind, my dear, and I hope that you will keep me on yours,” he begins once more, swooping into a bow after swinging his cape behind him.

This time when he raises your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles it’s lips that meet your skin. You shiver, gaze snapping upward. He pulls away and when you glance up he’s just slipping the skull mask back over his mouth. Your wide inquiring eyes only catch the barest glimmer of pale skin with just the hint of gaunt features and thin lips.

“Until we meet again, my dear Y/n. Just know that I will be enjoying your dazzling performances from afar as I lay in wait,” Death says, sickly eyes glowing with satisfaction.

In turn you take the time to send him off with a curtsey; legs crossed, crisp white of your dress bloomed, but when you bow your head you take care not to lose eye contact with him. His swallow after that is audible, and your answering smile might as well be with how clearly it sings of your appraisal. Then there goes your morose Death disappearing into the shadows; a specter bathed in mystique.

He makes a grande spectacle later that night. Reappears in a plume of smoke making an impassioned demand for an opera. His Opera. And you live everyday more convinced than the other that Death personified had truly visited the Populare that night.

Gaunt pale skin and sickly eyes drawn to the murders in your corner of France in a flash of winsome words and red and feathers.

Death had showered you with praise, looked you in the eyes and taken you hand in glorious hand across the ballroom floor, had decried the gall of the upper caste’s frivolous celebrating over the graves of those lost, and Death’s name was Erik.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I don’t…apologize for the melodrama, but I do understand if it wasn’t for you.

The reader-insert is ambiguously African here since it seemed fitting, but I didn’t want to overemphasize anything and shoot myself in the foot. Just imagine the reader-insert is from one of the countries France still takes exuberant colonial taxes from in order for those countries to stay independent from them.

Now, as far as canon influences go for this story: there’s some og book canon, some ALW musical canon, and a not insignificant amount of MazM canon for good measure. Also, by all means the last name ‘Destler’ is only canon to Poto 1989, but I’m really in love with that specific Erik so I tend to add the last name to my more generalized depictions of The Phantom; at least beside the fic title.

I had a wonderful time writing this and cannot wait for what the new year has to offer for my writing endeavors in the future. Happy New Year (except kind of not really, but we’ll deal)! 🥳🎉

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

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y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff · 8 months ago

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Three of my favorite products in my collection! I had these in high school but had to repurchase, I wish I just would've saved them. I'll never get over how mad I am that I threw so much good shit away.

Avon mark. Lip to Be Square, Tea Pots, and Electro-Lights Lip Glosses

2003-2005ish

My personal picture from my collection.

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doobledabbadoo · 2 years ago

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Hii! You fucking ate with the TDI redesigns and it wanted to know if you'd make a guide as to how you mimicked the TDI style?

hihi !! tysm !! glad a lot of ppl like em !!

as for the style guide, i am far from an expert at replicating art styles, but having a neo-UPA inspired art style really made this easier for me, even if i did struggle on getting used to some design choices.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone tracing over other people’s artwork to claim as your own final product. I only trace the shapes from the total drama characters to break down and analyze the art style for educational purposes.

IN GENERAL

total drama’s art style is heavily stylized and takes inspiration from clone high and many UPA-inspired cartoons in the late 90’s to early 2000’s. it uses very thick and bold outlines to define its characters and their individual shape language. a lot of designs use a variety of sharp angles, straight lines, and curved arcs to achieve a balanced character design that works in the total drama universe.

because the shape language is very geometric and simple, it’s surprisingly easy to recreate the total drama art style & reimagine some of your favorite characters in the universe!

BODY TYPES: THE “TYPICAL” WOMAN

a lot of the women in the show follow this base, even more than the “typical” male body type. compared to the men, the women of total drama have cat-like eyes, stylized lips, skinny necks, an hour-glass figure, longer and thicker legs, and pointy fingers. head shapes & features may vary depending on character and/or ethnicity. not all women in the show look like this, though! there’s a decent handful of women with very unique body types, such as beth, macarthur, & emma from the 2023 reboot! it also helps to reference characters from different seasons to get a better idea of the shape language in the show’s universe!

BODY TYPES: THE “TYPICAL” MAN

the “typical” body type for men isn’t as well defined as it is for the “typical” woman, so there aren’t as many examples of what defines the “typical” male body type. However, based on the handful of characters we collected, we can determine that the “typical” male body type in total drama is top-heavy. compared to the women, many of the men have broad chests and shoulders, thicker and longer arms, thicker necks, thinner waists and hips, and shorter, thinner legs. they have flatter, more boxy fingers comoared to the pointy fingers the women have. head shapes and features may vary depending on character and/or ethnicity.

BODY TYPES: THE PLUS SIZED WOMAN

plus-sized women follow some of the same rules & principles as the “typical” woman does, from more cat-like eyes to sharper fingers however, in contrast to the more common body type, these woman have much thicker body proportions and use rounder, smoother lines to emphasize either fat or muscle. head shapes and other features may vary depending on the character and/or ethnicity.

BODY TYPES: THE PLUS SIZED MAN

there’s a pretty good variety when it comes to drawing plus-sized men. while some of them, like ripper, follow some similar principles to the “typical” man, others offer a new, unique design base to work with. their features are generally rounder and wider to emphasize their weight. head shapes & other features may vary depending on character and/or ethnicity.

BODY TYPES: THE LANKY MAN

unlike the “typical” man, the lankier men don’t usually have the same broad shoulders and chest. their limbs are much thinner, & they sometimes don’t have any pronounced calves. it’s more common for the lankier men to have their feet facing in the same direction as opposed to the other, though the latter isn’t an uncommon design desicion either. head shapes and other festures vary depending on the character and/or ethnicity.

BODY TYPES: THE BEEFY MAN

Of all the body types presented to the male characters, this one is the closest and most similar to the “typical” male body type. the difference is that the broadness of the shoulders and chest are exaggerated more, and the shape of the arms can vary between being wider to having more lumps. head shapes and other features may vary depending in character and/or ethnicity.

HAIR STYLES

a hairstyle can tell people a lot about a character. theres a lot of different ways to draw hair on characters, though in general, the appeal to total drama’s art style would be the simplicity and angularity in its shape language and character designs, so you don’t have to give your character thousands of spiky hair strands to make them appealing.

im not good at explaining how i replicate art styles so i really hope these help!!! also im sorry this ask took forever to compile lol i just wanted an excuse to study the shows art style more. heres another helpful video to help understand the process of character design !!

youtube

i also recommend checking out harry gold’s channel. he does a lot of art style replication videos & this one explains art style replication exceptionally well!

youtube

tysm for ur ask & tysm for ur patience!!

#dooble moment #idk ask dooble #my art #total drama #long post #reference #hhhhhhgh i really hope this helps #i struggled to communcate this for a while & college is a nightmare when it comes to finding freetime #anyways #more total drama stuff WHEEEEEEEE!!!#art tips #art reference

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xo-zozo · 2 months ago

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gigi grayson headcannons •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

a/n: i love her so much you guys don't understand ugh... anyway you guys voted on this so i hope i didn't disappoint, send requests if you want and happy reading!

tags: @your-mommy-ems @arqbella @reminiscentreader @x-liv25-jamieswife @inmyheaddd

@alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @annamatix @lyrakanefanatic

@123letsgobestie @hathorneheiress @midiosaamor @riddles-n-games

she loves pinterest and has pinterest boards for just about every aspect of her life

same with her spotify account, every emotion that she's ever felt has been put into a playlist

she loves going record stores, thrift stores, used book stores and other small businesses at home and when she goes on vacations

she did gymnastics when she was younger but now she can barley do the splits

she loves overalls

she loves starbucks but her new years resolution was to only go once a week (it didn't last very long)

she always has some bracelets on that match all of her outfits

invests in all of the useless things that she doesn't really need such as ice trays shaped like hearts

she sews little designs into the pockets of all of her jeans

she has one necklace that she never takes off

literally a walking brandy catalog

she had a phase in middle school and high school where she would only eat donuts for breakfast

sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night and just has the urge to do something (one of these includes trying to do a handstand again and then falling and knocking something over)

her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

she loves going to concerts so she's had to survive all of the ticket master wars

takes pride in how she does her makeup and hair every morning or sometimes she just wakes up and doesn't do anything at all

roadtrips are so fun with her because she plays all the music and brings all the snacks

randomly texts people compliments just to make their days better

definitely tunes into the grammys every year but thinks that everyone in every category deserves the award

when they were in highschool, she would leave savanah little sticky notes with things on them on her mirror every morning

still says that her favorite color is all of the colors

she loves the movie legally blonde (and all of the other 2000s rom com movies)

she spends a lot of her time getting ready in the morning trying to find the perfect lip product to wear that day

sets her alarm for a certain time but always ends up waking up 30 minutes later

has formed a relationship with her alexa

#gigi grayson #jennifer lynn barnes #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #savanah grayson

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urdreamgirlangel · 2 months ago

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aesthetics .ೃ࿐

My fav aesthetics described in just a few pics [and words]

coastal granddaughter 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

featuring the outdoors as well as navy blue, seafoam green, sandy taupe and off-white, loose-fitting clothing, relaxed but refined looks.

pilates pink princess 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

categorized by soft pastel hues, well-put together athleisure, wellness, pilates, self-care and sometimes even yoga. features elements of coquette, clean girl and dollette.

igari 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

a japanese makeup style known as 'hangover makeup,' featuring a youthful, glowy, flushed look, blush applied under the eyes and across the cheeks to give the 'drunk' appearance, rosy eyeshadow, and shiny lips.

coquette 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

often described as sweet, romantic, flirty and playful. featuring vintage charm, lace, bounce and flounces.

y2k 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

based around products, styles, and fashion of the late 1990s and early 2000s. featuring cyber-futurism, bright bold colors, shiny and metallic textures, low-rise and flared jeans, crop tops, visible g-strings, pumps and ballet flat, etc.

cottagecore 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

romanticizes rural life. features lots of nature, slow living, country houses and cottages, soft colors, traditional crafts and skills. filled with lace or embroidered detailing, flowing skirts, bodice tops

dollette 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

appreciating hyperfemininity, featuring florals, ruffles, lace pink and ballet and often contains vintage elements with a modern twist.

island/coconut/beach girl 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

associated with youth, vacation and summertime. key points are bright colors, loose/casual tees, beachy vibes, flowy tops, floral patterns, bead-and-shell jewelry, bucket hats, crochet bags and colorful bikinis

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somanyratsinthewalls · 10 months ago

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Congratulations on 700!! May I request Magenta Rooster? Our lovely Corazon is so clumsy to begin with and I really wanna see how clumsy he can get during drunk/high sex (I'd love to see him high af tbh) some fluffy smut would just be 🤌🏼 chefs kiss

When I read this request from @firefistussy I screamed because it's the cutest thing I've ever heard in my life. As a stoner who loves dorks and high sex, this was the perfect set up.

Under The Influence (18+)

Pairing: Corazon x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Drunk/High Sex

WC: 2000

Warnings: I wrote this high on 20mg of edibles (I felt it was appropriate for this occasion, but sorry babes if it sucks ass) high sex, marijuana usage and mention, p in v sex, unprotected sex, OKAY JUST LIKE A BRIEF SECOND OF BUTT TO V BUT DONT DO THAT, ITS FUNNY FOR THE PLOT, fingering, creampie, breeding, clumsy idiot cora, awkward sex, cute cora tho.

— —

It was a hell of a day.

From sun up you had been busy with paperwork and handling purchase orders for the Don Quixote family. You hated being associated with such an infamous family, but they always paid your salary on time and that was what mattered. Being a member of a notorious pirate family came with another perk… you never had to worry about running out of weed. The Don Quixote family was dealing in markets much darker than marijuana, so they had no problem keeping your supply full.

All you wanted was a hot shower and to lay up on your couch with an obscenely large joint. And so, you made plans to do that after retiring to your quarters for the day. You rolled yourself the perfect marijuana cigarette and set it down on your pink mirrored tray (a “gift” from your boss) next to the lighter. Next, you stripped yourself of your sweaty clothes and started the shower.

Once hot enough, you stepped through the foggy glass door and submerged yourself under the water. You let out a long sigh as the hot water soothed your tired body. You take the time to tenderly massage your scalp while you shampoo and condition your hair. Once the products were rinsed out, you lathered your body in the sweet vanilla scented body wash that the men around you always commented on.

After your shower, you hopped out and dried off before you wrapped yourself in a short, black terrycloth robe. You towel off your hair and return to your bedroom where you flopped onto your loveseat and grabbed the lighter. You bring the joint to your lips and light it carefully so that it burned evenly.

You throw your head back against your velvet throw pillow as the first clouds of smoke hit your lungs. You kick your feet up entirely so that you can recline on the couch as you continue to smoke. You weren’t sure how many minutes had gone by before you heard a gentle knock on your door.

*tap tap*

“Come in…” You shout as you exhale smoke.

The door opens but you don’t turn around.

*thunk*

“Shit-“

You hear the lamp on your end table rattle.

“How did you know I was up, Rosi?” You smile and take another hit off your joint, knowing exactly who it was without sitting up and turning your head.

“The whole place can smell that you’re up. You’re not exactly discrete.” Corazon says with a smirk as he walks towards the couch.

“I wasn’t trying to be.” You grin and tilt your head back on the pillow so you were looking up at his imposing figure upside down. You hold the joint straight up so that it was near Corazon’s face. “Come take a hit?” You asked.

Corazon shook his head but didn’t back away.

“I shouldn’t. I’m still on the clock.”

“You’re always on the clock… with that monstrous brother of yours… come on, a few puffs won’t hurt.” You coo as you wiggle the marijuana closer to him. Corazon sighs before plucking the joint from your fingers.

“You know I can’t say no to you…” He huffs as he sits opposite your reclining form on the loveseat. His large stature requires you to put your legs up and crossed on the back of the couch to make room for him, your robe riding up your nude thighs a bit. Corazon catches himself ogling your exposed skin and adjusts his gaze. He takes a long drag from your joint and you raise your eyebrows expectantly.

He starts coughing immediately, violently.

“Gods, Rosi take a drink.” You giggle as you hand him your glass of wine. He chugs several sips and then catches his breath.

“It’s been awhile…” Corazon chuckles and tries to cover for his inexperience.

“You’re so cute. Just shotgun it from me.” You smile and take the joint from his large, outstretched hand. His huge fingers made it look comically small.

“Just… what…?” Corazon looks up at you with his brows furrowed.

You laugh again and sit up to cross your legs in front of you on the couch facing the blonde man.

“I’ll smoke, and blow it in your mouth. It’s less harsh for you that way. Come here.” You say as you straighten up and beckon him closer.

Corazon looks nervous as he leans closer to your much smaller frame.

You suck in a large hit and reach out to grab the back of his head and gently pull his mouth to yours. You breath the smoke out slowly into his open mouth, lips just barely ghosting each others. Corazon inhales the smoke and breathes it out much easier this time.

He pulls back and smiles down at you.

“That was better…” He laughs.

“I liked it too… come here.” You whisper as you take another long drag. You pull Rosinante by his hair back to your lips, pressing them together lightly this time before exhaling the intoxicating smoke.

“If I was speculating… I’d say you were trying to get me high, Miss y/n.” Corazon says as he breathes out another cloud of smoke in your face.

“Hmmm and what would be so bad about that?” You muse as you prepare to give him another hit. You deliver the thick smoke straight to his lungs while darting out your tongue to swipe across his bottom lip, teasingly. “Afraid you might not be able to resist your subordinate with your guard down?” You whisper into his lips. You unfurl your legs and rest them on either side of Corazon’s body.

Corazon blows out his smoke. He shifts his body so he’s hovering over you.

“Who says I’m resisting?” Corazon smirks.

“Kiss me, Rosi.” You softly plead in your dazed state. You drop the almost finished joint in the ashtray beside you.

Wordlessly, Corazon presses his lips firmly onto yours as he cups your cheek gently with one hand, the difference in pressure sent your mind swimming. He tasted like both tobacco and marijuana. He slid his tongue past your lips to explore the rest of your mouth sensually. You sighed in approval and he slipped his hand up your bare thigh to rest at the juncture of your leg and body, squeezing your flesh teasingly.

You buck your hips with need.

“What do you want, y/n?” Your massive blonde lover asks you.

“Touch me…” You say quietly as you spread your legs fully beneath him.

“As you wish…” Corazon whispers as he moves his hand from your hip bone to swipe two fingers down your slit and back up, wetness from your hole coating his large digits. He circles your clit gently, and you whimper, the marijuana heightening every sensation.

“M-more, Rosi.. w-want to feel you inside…” You plead as he teases your clit with soft pets.

“You know how I feel about saying no to you…” Corazon smiles before plunging those two fingers into your quivering hole, a deep groan leaving you as he crooks them upwards immediately into your favorite spot.

“Shit.. yes… just like that…” You say as you grip the blonde locks at the back of his head, bringing his head closer to your chest. Corazon uses his other hand to rip your robe open as he balances carefully on his knees, he then delves into your right breast with an eager mouth. He suckles desperately at your erect nipple as you melt into his touch.

“Just a little more, yes, fuck Rosi!” You thrust your hips up into his palm so that it would rub against your clit while the pads of his fingers hammer into your g-spot. “Shit, right there… I’m gonna cum, fuck!” You pull harshly on Corazon’s hair as you see stars and gush all over his large hand.

You breath heavily and loosen your grip on the back of Corazon’s scalp. You sooth over the patch that you pulled on with soft strokes of your hand.

“Good, love?” Rosinante pulls away from you and asks.

“Yes, just take me to bed now, please.” You demand with a wicked grin.

Without needing another verbal reminder of how he’d always tell you yes, Corazon picks you up in his strong arms and carries you to the bed.

“Fuck-“ Corazon huffs as he trips over your discarded high heels and flops the both of you onto your purple comforter unceremonious.

You can’t help but giggle up at him, shocked he’d survived this long on earth with how clumsy he is. Choosing to ignore his misstep, Corazon attacks your neck with nips and bites, sending you immediately back into the mood. Your head was still so fuzzy from the weed and now the orgasm, that you shivered under his rough kisses.

“Turn around for me, baby.” Corazon whispers into your skin.

You gladly obliged and sluggishly toss your robe off and position yourself on your hands and knees on the bed. It took far longer than it should, due to your inebriated state, but it gave Corazon the time to strip himself of his own shirt and pants. He comes up behind you wearing nothing but his pink love-heart printed boxer shorts. Swiftly, he tugs down his underwear and lets his painfully erect cock spring free and prod at your soft skin. Corazon’s head was swimming with intoxication and arousal as he smoothed one large hand over your spine and nudged the head of his cock into you with the other.

“Fuck me, Rosinante…” You coo as you push you ass back into him.

“Yes, mama… Anything you want…” Corazon pushes his hard member into you and sinks about two inches in before you yelp and push your hands back against his abs.

“Cora! Wrong fucking hole!” You grit out as you whip your head around at him.

“Gods! Sorry! Fuck!” Corazon jumps back in surprise and pulls himself out of your ass, even though he had just dipped his tip in.

“Lower!” You hiss out.

“Right, shit, sorry baby…” Cora grips his hard cock and shifts it lower and finds your drooling hole without any more difficulty.

“Yesssss…” You moan out as Corazon bottoms out inside your wet walls.

“Fuuuuck…” Corazon groans as he begins to thrust his hips against yours, lost in the feeling of your pussy sucking him in.

“Harder! Fuck, Rosi, harder!” You yell as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Anything for you… OOF-“ Rosinante grunts as he loses his balance on top of you and ends up pinning you to the mattress on your stomach, slipping out of you in the process.

Frustrated, you groan.

“Get on your fucking back.” You push him by the shoulders and flip his body over. You straddle his waist and align his weeping cock up with your clenching hole.

“Please give it to me, mama…” Corazon whines at you.

It was such a beautiful sight, high out of his mind, drooling on himself trying his best not to slam his hips up into you. You oblige and sink yourself down on his massive cock. You grin stupidly as your pelvis reaches his, his public bone tickling your clit.

You brace your hands on Corazon’s massive torso as you begin to grind yourself back and forth on top of him, making sure his length was rubbing against your g-spot with every movement. You couldn’t help but moan as you begin to get closer and closer to your second peak of the evening. You grunt like an animal as you grind yourself to the edge of another orgasm.

“I can feel you getting close…” Corazon whispers out as he grips your ass with one hand and wraps the other gently around your throat. “I’m close too… want you to cum so you can milk me dry, baby… just let go… use me…”

With those filthy words you finally snap and release all over Corazon’s thighs and abdomen.

“Fuck!” You cry out and throw your head back.

“There it is, stay there and take all of it…” Corazon grips you by your shoulders and pushes you impossibly far down on his cock, causing you to whine at how it pushes against your cervix.

“So… full…” You sigh as you collapse into Corazon’s shoulder.

You can hear laughter rumble from your lover’s chest.

“I’m tired, too.” Corazon says. “Best we go to sleep before we raid the kitchen.”

You immediately pick your head up from the crook of his neck.

“Oooh, kitchen?” Your eyebrows raise.

Corazon rolls his eyes.

“I’ll fix you a snack.”

— —

Hope you enjoyed!

Xx Mo

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #corazon #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #one piece rosinante #rosinante x reader #op rosinante #op corazon

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arrowfleur · 5 months ago

Text

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

Part 2: Sam and Darlin’

Sam is very rarely, if ever, at his full potential because he doesn’t do live feedings unless he literally needs to.

Big time cuddlers, Sam’s cold body and Darlin’s warmth work wonders.

Although Sam is warmer than most vampires since he eats more food than most.

Very good cook too, he has a lot of family recipes from his grandma

Darlin’ can hold their own in the kitchen they’re just not that bothered about it, or eating in general.

They’re also always dehydrated asf, they only really drink water when they’re working out, other then that, they forget.

Darlin’ has bought Sam multiple tank tops that are too small for him.

One of them had ‘garlic’ bedazzled on it and they laughed at their own joke for the rest of the night after Sam put it on

They both like to do each others hair. Brushing it, washing it, shaving beards. They can’t get their hands off each other

Darlin’ sits directly on top of Sam often, even when the whole couch is empty. He’s practically a climbing frame.

Sam is closest to David’s height out of everyone in the pack, Darlin is pretty level with Asher.

Darlin’ calls Sam ‘Collin’s’ ‘sammy’ and ‘babe’ quite often but they’ve found themself saying ‘it’s Sam’ if someone calls him anything otherwise

Sometimes they both say it in unison

Darlin has picked up quite a lot of Sam’s language but it doesn’t fit quite as neatly with their accent.

After finding out what it means, they particularly enjoy saying ‘bless your heart’ and then smirking to Sam as if it’s some sort of inside joke just between them.

They both think each other to be the funniest thing to exist. Darlin’ will keel over giggling at the most mundane comments Sam makes.

The pack was rather surprised to find out how gossipy Sam can be. Angel, Babe and Ash were DELIGHTED.

But he will not tolerate bad words being said about his loved ones. And has on multiple occasions whipped out the dead-pan face with a ‘do you hear how stupid you sound?’ to someone who thought him a safe space for slander.

They play fight in the woods a lot. Hunting each other, whilst Darlin’s shifted. Sam figured he’d have to go easy on them the first time they did it but they are surprisingly sneaky for such a large creature.

Darlin’ pounced on sam once, not realising he was next to a hill and they both ended up with twigs in their hair cradling each other at the bottom, with the loudest belly laughs ever.

Sam uses Vaseline for everything. His bathroom mainly consists of that and old spice.

The first time Darlin’ teased him about it he just laughed and graciously reminded them of his ‘soft lips’ with an off guard kiss

Timberland hates to see Sam coming, he has oh so many boots

He’s surprisingly meticulous about what he buys and he has expensive taste

‘I’d rather spend the money now and have them last than have to buy ‘em again in a couple months’

Saying that, he probably couldn’t name a single designer.

Could care less about having the latest trend or product.

He orders clothes for Darlin’ as well. Mainly basics. It took them a while to realise when their clothes started taking up more and more space in their closet.

Darlin’ is more than happy to wear the same pair of ripped black jeans over and over but they do have a fashion sense.

And if they absolutely HAVE to, they will show out.

When they were younger they had a very 2000’s aesthetic and it’s never completely left them.

The same way they will never get rid of their Ed hardy t-shirts

Sam likes marmalade

Darlin’ once surprised Sam with breakfast in bed, which he tried his best to be grateful for but all he could think about were crumbs in the bed l.

Darlin’ realised their mistake and they moved it to the couch as a compromise.

Darlin’ has a journal but it’s just filled with random sketches and funny things they thought of. They’re very private about it though

When they first met, almost all of Darlin’s socks had holes in

Darlin LOVES the Wildlife they get to see at Sam’s house. They have tried to befriend dears and foxes many, many times.

They also know a strangely large amount of bird breeds

Sam has a strange hatred for bagels

Darlin’ bought Sam the new f-zero game as soon as it came out

Sam used to have a German Shepard named Fido

Darlin’ still goes back to their old apartment every week to take their elderly neighbour grocery shopping.

Darlin’ quit smoking once they’d settled with Sam

He never asked them too, but they want a long life with him

They still have a packet for when they’re stressed but baby steps

Darlin’ uses the amount of buttons Sam’s flannels have to their ADVANTAGE when they’re making out

And God they love his lap and his thighs and his neck and his beard and his smile and nose and hands and voice and and and and

Sorry l bout that one I miss my husband

Anyways that’s all and here’s my proof I got them second, not that it really matters but anyway

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #arrowsqueue #redactedverse #redacted sam #redacted darlin

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