#bright colored slippers

[mekyrdesign]

Step into vibrant style with our stunning Neon 90s Slippers for Women. Perfect for lounging at home or making a fashion statement, these slippers blend nostalgic design with modern comfort. The eye-catching neon colors will brighten up your day while providing ultimate support to your feet. Grab your pair of Neon 90s Slippers for Women and embrace the retro vibe with every step you take!

[vellatra]

Got an order for a pair of slippers! That hasn't happened in awhile. Trying to get them done quickly before Vellatra Jr. decides to come out... wish me luck!

[simple-persica]

WOWO this is so cute!!

My gift for @simple-persica in the @technoblade-gift-exchange!

Image description under cut!

Image Description: A drawing of Philza and Technoblade sitting on a couch in a living room reading 'The Art Of War'. The scene is lit by a warm light that presumably is coming from a fireplace, as well as the sunset outside that is obscured by a curtain. Technoblade has his hair in a bun, and hybrid features like large ears and a tooth sticking out of his mouth. He is dressed in a red cardigan and pink bunny slippers. Philza is leaning over to read the book, while wearing his regular clothing, which is a green jinbei worn with black pants and sandals. Both Technoblade and Philza have an emerald earring each. End description.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

End Notes: I forgot to mention, reader's work clothes are the same as Arlecchino from Genshin Impact wears.

Taglist:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

[tootiecakes234]

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕

[cherryredcheol]

matchy-matchy

tldr: match with me? a/n: i am embarrassed to admit how long it took me to come up with each of these

ot13 x reader

seungcheol: bracelets

except its one of those welded-on bracelets that you can only get off with some kind of tool that can cut through chain. he wanted you both to be reminded every day that your love was strong, unbreakable, permanent. the chain was dainty on both your wrists, barely noticeable, but still ever-present. ever the possessive guy, he liked having his mark on you. and he supposed a bracelet would do for now; until he gave you his last name. 

jeonghan: lego figurines

they’re minifigs and he had them custom-made to look like you, favorite outfits and everything. they’re on a little shelf that’s mounted to the wall. below the shelf are two little hooks, one for your keys and one for his. your keys go underneath your figure and his under his own. these minifigs were a gift for you very early on in the relationship. they’ve moved all over with you and now they’re part of your shared home. 

joshua: luggage

he brings you everywhere with him so it makes sense that your bags all match so you don’t draw suspicion. so what if he was pictured with a suitcase that has a my melody plush keychain on it? he’s man enough to admit he likes my melody, but really he likes you more and it’s easier that everything look the same. he doesn’t even have to think about it when grabbing a bag from the closet for each of you before heading on your next adventure together. 

junhui: ramen bowls

yes, you could hypothetically use this bowl for something other than ramen, but that would make it not special anymore and that just won’t do. it tickles both of you to no end to pull those bowls down from the cabinet and rifle through the silverware drawer for the matching chopsticks, all items printed with a delicate cherry blossom pattern. when the bowls were purchased the intention wasn’t even for them to become the bowls you use but its too late to look back now. 

soonyoung: water bottles

he dances and works out a lot, therefore he drinks a lot of water. he was going through plastic bottles of water like nobody’s business so you convinced him to get a reusable one. so he did, and he got you one to match! yours is black, inconspicuous. his is bright orange. the reasoning? they’re tiger colors, but subtle. why do you kind of agree with him?

wonwoo: phone wallpapers

they’re lowkey and you wouldn’t know they’re matching unless you saw them both side by side and noticed that the street light in both photos looks a little similar…the pictures are always from the walks you two go on in the middle of the night when it can be just you and him without the pressures of his career. some of your best moments together have come from those nights and the pictures are reminders of that. 

jihoon: slippers

the universe factory is cold, always. and yes, you keep an extra cozy blanket and hoodie in there but sometimes your feet get cold and your socks just aren’t enough. he must’ve noticed because there were suddenly two pairs of slippers by the door one day. when you asked about them, he just gestured vaguely and mumbled something about your feet. you’ll take it! they’re also not matching so much as they’re exactly the same. he claims this is for efficiency so he can wear either pair. cool, dude!

seokmin: sneakers

he has a lot of shoes. but his favorite pair are the ones that you bought together. they’re your favorite color and you each have a pair. you wear them together often, so smitten with each other it’s sickening. he always brings these sneakers on tour with him, whether you come too or not. its a win-win for him either way. he gets to match you from a close distance or from across the world. at least he knows he’s yours. 

mingyu: sunglasses

multiple pairs. every pair he buys himself, he also buys one for you. they're his favorite accessory and he looks oh so handsome in them so you never complain. your collection is slowly getting smaller though because he tends to break or lose things (sometimes both) and if it's a pair he really loved, he’ll ask with big puppy eyes if he can have the pair he bought for you. sometimes you tell him no just to see him pout.

minghao: manicures

oh, you’re going to get your nails done? he’s coming with, and paying. they don’t even have to be the same design or anything, they just have to go together. you don’t want a super complicated design like him? okay, cool. just get the same color. you went without him? fine, but what color is on your nails? it has to be the exact same as yours or else it doesn’t count. the colors may look similar but they’re not exactly the same polish? you might as well break up. 

seungkwan: phone cases

the design you chose has a little inside joke meaning to the two of you. no one even bothers asking the meaning behind the joke because they ‘wouldn’t get it’. your phone also has a different pc of him in it weekly (he changes it based on his mood) so your coworkers think you’re a super fan with your matching phone case and pc, obsessed with the idol on your phone. little do they know…

hansol: keychains

you have a miffy one, it's fuzzy.  he has a darth vader one, it’s lego. it kind of just appeared on your keychain one day and when you mentioned it to him he casually explained he put it there the other week. he fished through his pocket to show you his matching (?) keychain. the only explanation he gives? ‘it’s totally us,’ and how could you argue with that?

chan: stuffed animals

they’re dinosaurs, not dragons, thank you very much. and yes, they are therapeutically weighted to ease anxiety when placed on the chest. have a problem with that? i didn’t think so. these things go everywhere with you. if a car ride is longer than an hour, your green dinosaur is guaranteed to be there. he’s flying to tokyo? not without his passport and his little pink friend. show some respect! these are your kids!

[miguelhugger2099]

To be Known is to be Loved

Summary: It’s so easy to forget the little things. But Miguel loves you so he remembers. A/N: I’m on writers block so please forgive me for the lack of fics. I hope some fluff with suffice. Art: nellwhre17 on instagram No warnings, Fluffy

You hated being on your feet all day. Your soles were sore, your toes scrunched together in your shoes and you were pretty sure your laces were cutting off your circulation. You wanted nothing more than to take everything off and lie in bed.

So, once you opened the door to your home, tossing the keys to the couch, you crouched down to shove your shoes off. You were too impatient to slip off your shoelaces, settling for a fight of just ripping your shoes off your feet. Once the pair had flopped away from you, you wiggled your toes and sighed in relief.

“Mig?” You call out, searching for your boyfriend’s comfort after a long day. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your fuzzy slippers right beside the couch where you had thrown your keys. It wouldn’t have been unusual since you often left your slippers by the door before you leave for work, but you were in a hurry today–Miguel must’ve moved them for you.

With a tired smile, you wobble over to them and slide them on. Its warm softness were heaven on your sore feet and you heard the pats of Miguel’s heavy footsteps. You look up to see Miguel give you a soft smile.

“Hi.” He whispers, a dry towel in hand. By the smell coming off of it, it seemed it was freshly washed and dried. He looks off to the side and sees your shoes discarded in opposite directions. He makes the move to collect the pair and set it on the shoe rack neatly. Miguel looks down at you on the floor and hands the towel to you. “I already showered so here.”

You take the towel with a bright grin. You were already feeling better.

When you had woken up from your nap, you instinctively crawl out of bed to search for Miguel. You found him in the living room, TV volume as low as possible with all the lights turned off. You could never sleep if even the smallest of light peeked in your room. Miguel’s jaw moved and his mouth opened to pop something in his mouth and you realized he was snacking on something.

You take a step forward on the wooden floor and it creaks, signaling your appearance. Miguel raises his eyebrows and turns his head to face you. He relaxes.

“Finally up?” He asks. The TV continues to play a random novela–something from the 2000s based on the camera quality.

“Yeah,” You croak out, voice hoarse from the long nap you took. Miguel pats the seat next to him and urges you closer with his hand. You follow his command, plopping beside him and instantly, you two fall in place. His hand around you protectively and your body smushed to his side.

Your eyes glance at the snack in his hand and you realize it’s actually candy. A rectangular packet of Starbursts. You look back up at Miguel, your vision seeing his side profile and you speak up, “Can I have some?”

Miguel takes his arm up and off you. He then takes the packet and rips it open and reveals the different colored cubes of flavor. He carefully plucks out the pink ones—sweet strawberry flavor—and places it in your outstretched palm. Then, he places the red ones—cherry flavored— with the pinks ones.

You smile to yourself, already unwrapping the candy and chewing on the taffy. You watch as Miguel keeps the yellows away from you, instead taking it upon himself to eat those.

He didn’t understand your need to be picky about the flavor and color, but usually you’d want it so he’d give it to you no questions asked. No reminders either.

Miguel settled his arm around you again, gnawing on the taffy and plucking the pieces that got stuck on his teeth. You snuggled back up to him happily, while you ate the strawberry and cherry Starburst.

If there was anything you shamelessly loved to do, it was kissing Miguel. He didn’t mind at all. Despite his introverted nature, he couldn’t help but smile with each extra kiss you’d give him. 

He was sure you never noticed this one thing about yourself. Maybe you did but he doesn’t think so. It was his favorite quirk of yours.

Sometimes, if he’s lucky, you’ll be so smitten when he initiates a kiss first that you’ll keep your eyes closed just to give him another chance to kiss you. A opportunity he's always willing to grab.

He liked pulling away and seeing you still, small smile playing on your lips and awaiting another smooch. And like a routine, he lifts your chin higher up and your lips quirk up higher. The tip of his thumb grazes your bottom lip and he leans down just enough to where your lips are brushing against each other. He watches your mouth twitch and your eyebrows scrunch when you could only barely feel him. Miguel finally leans down and kisses you again and he places a hand on your waist to feel you melt in his embrace. 

[mekyrdesign]

Step into vibrant nostalgia with our Women's Neon 80s Slippers. Perfect for lounging at home or adding a pop of color to your casual attire, these slippers feature a retro design that captures the essence of the 80s. The soft, cushioned interior ensures comfort, while the flashy neon colors make a bold statement. Embrace comfort in style with our Women's Neon 80s Slippers and relive the fun and flair of a bygone era every day!

[omgthatdress]

Boudoir Slippers

1865-1885

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

"Special occasion clothing is the most commonly preserved, so while wedding and evening shoes are usually well represented in historical collections, surviving loungewear, such as this pair of boudoir slippers, is less common. This appealing and nicely detailed example highlights the prevailing taste for a deep and rich color scheme. The bright purple color was made possible by the discovery and development of synthetic dyes beginning in the late 1850s."

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito

TW: idk, threatening atmosphere ig

fem reader

Thinking about being a psychologist assigned a certain crazed serial killing cannibal… 

The walls seemed too white. Loud. So impersonal, it became personal. Cold and eerie, as if it wanted to make everyone inside feel unwelcome.

Your palms were embarrassingly sweaty, causing you to wipe them down your skirt, also in an attempt to straighten it out, where the approaching footsteps on the other side of the door only helped make your heart beat faster.

You swallowed your anxiety when you heard the latch open and tried to wipe your face free of fear, knowing how such fragility would not survive here. You almost felt nauseous, but then the patient came in, and, unlike you, he looked completely normal – happy even.

"Good morning." You reported routinely, and just as routinely, he chose not to answer and instead stared at you where you sat on the other side of the table, as ready as ever. 

It had become a ritual shared between the two of you. Intimate.

You, who made yourself comfortable before he was let in – folder and notepad and two ballpoint pens in two different colors, one red and one blue, placed in front of you on the table – just far enough away that he couldn't reach them.

And he, who’s comfortable either way – dressed in his given uniform and slippers as he stepped across the cold floor slowly before dropping into the chair in front of you.

You wear jewelry, and suppose he does so as well.

He looked your body up then down – analyzing what he saw with an unimpressed face – taking in your straight posture where you sat like a doll placed in a glass display with your knees together and your hands folded neatly atop your lap. 

He seemed disappointed when roaming your outfit – a childish pout on his lips. A secular pencil skirt, tight but modest nonetheless, reaching below the knees – only showing calves and ankles. A demure blouse – no sheer fabric, no bright color, no cleavage – just dull pink-beige that reached up below a set of pretty collarbones and a neckline donned a simple pearl necklace. 

If you wore makeup, it couldn't have been much – but your lips had a certain shine to them, not much color other than natural, but glossy in a way that made them look… tasty.

You were pretty, but pretty in a very ordinary way – pretty in such a way that wasn't enough to answer the question of whether you were trying or not. And he thought that was fun. 

You looked boring, but you weren’t boring because you were anything but obvious.

You smiled nicely, pretending that he didn't make you nervous – and that, in turn, made him smile, but not for the reasons you would have liked. He thought you were a little weird for wanting him to get comfortable with you when you were so clearly nowhere near comfortable yourself.

"How are you today?" You asked as if in a normal conversation when your previous ask didn’t earn any response.

He considers playing along for a few seconds but eventually feels he has done so too many times before – that now it would only achieve something boring.

He nudges the inside of his cheek with his tongue and scrapes it against his teeth before finally answering. "Have you ever seen someone go through withdrawal?"

If this had been your first time with him, you would have reacted differently, but you have since learned that he’s happy to force what he feels like telling, regardless of your attempts to turn the conversation onto other topics. So, instead of asking why he's asking what he's asking, you answer honestly and let him continue.

"No. I can't say that I have."

"Then you're in for a treat.” He says and begins the game, quickly noting with a keen twinkle in his eye the way your smile tightens before he continues. "You might think I look like shit now, but you should’a seen my skin then – all ash and gray like a rotten fish. Should have some pictures of that in your binder – I looked as good as dead.” He joked with a smile. "And yet, I was still alive… ‘cause I kept kicking and flopping around. And it was cold – freezing – so cold that my teeth gnashed without having anything to bite into. And even though I’ve never been one to cry, I cried then, like a newborn fresh outta the womb." He confessed with even more of a chuckle in his voice.

The smile only grew sharper when he saw you open the notebook – his eyes twitching a little at the sound of the ballpoint clicking under your thumb as he watched you approach the sheet with red ink.

"Oh- and sweat," He continued, "My God, how you sweat." Grinning as the adrenaline of excitement sharpened the red in his corneas – crazed two-toned eyes bulging as he watched you scribble. “You may think you know sweat, but you don't – you don't know the stench of it.”

He shook his head along with the words, happy to have engaged you in his little game. You were so cute, sitting there opposite him as if the two of you were on a date and he was telling you some fun story from his past.

"And I shook! Like I was crazy – like I had demons on the inside that wanted out!"

You gasped as he brought his large fist down hard on the table with a blow that shook the remaining blue pen as if it jumped in fear and cowered to comfort itself the same as you.

“And then they came out. ‘Cause I puked ‘em out!”

His eyes were impossibly dark, though they remained the same as always. Full of something… something you just couldn't understand. Along with a crack of a smile that was anything but healthy.

"For several hours, I vomited until my soul was left in the toilet bowl… That is… the times I was lucky to even make it to the bathroom in time..."

His words earned a grimace from you, sitting with a lump in your throat, clutching the pen that had now gone silent in your still grip.

"And that smell doesn't go away…" He continued, calmer now. “It sits and sinks into the floors... Remains to remind you of what you are – mocks you, pokes fun, laughs as it predicts the future…”

His eyes gave yours the same feeling as being threatened with a knife, the way he looked down at you while you stared up at him – your eyes wide in prayer before you couldn't hold back any longer and had to look away.

"Because you know..." The voice was even quieter now but still with a reprehensible darkness that required goosebumps. "No matter what promises you make to yourself, you will always break them the moment the hunger strikes again... That's just human nature." He concluded, letting the silence work for himself.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and met his gaze again, trying your best to appear unflappable even though you’d already let the mask slip a couple of thousand times already.

"What made you think of that?" You asked then, clicking your pen – that way you do when the silence creeps worse than his words.

“This room.” He answered. “It's like withdrawal.”

"It doesn't say anywhere in your file that you’re a drug addict?"

"The whole reason I'm sitting in here is 'cause I’m an addict." He snarled, and you almost lost the pen with how you flinched.

There was another pause, and his face softened again into something else.

"But you're right. I've never done drugs." He smiled with his head cocked a little to the side as he looked at you with that fixed unpleasant look. "But I was convincing, wasn't I?"

You clicked your pen again and wrote another thing down in the notepad.

"Psh-" He scoffed. Something in his voice had changed, twisted into something similarly accusatory to yours. "You're just like me."

You stopped writing. Your whole body had been taken by instinct at his disturbing statement – brows furrowed as you fought the urge to gnaw at your bottom lip.

"How so?"

Your heart was pounding to the point where you could hardly feel anything but the bleeding pulsing in your ears – pumping in your fingertips – rocking the ribs in your chest.

A silent toothless smile crept up his face anew from where it had been playing at the corner of his mouth as he watched you cling to the red pen as some sort of weapon you could use if he chose to throw himself across the table.

He laughed at the thought but stopped short upon his next utterance. "You’re also an addict."

You had such a very pitifully confused expression. He took a second to admire it with a smile that only grew sharper, to a sick point where you almost couldn't recognize him as human at all anymore.

"You use – you eat and chew and swallow everything but the bones, everything you can stuff your bottomless belly with in hopes it'll soothe the hunger."

You had to gulp.

"Most people, you see, eat themselves. But we…" His gaze was like a spark – powder and fuse teased by friction, just waiting to explode. "We eat people."

Another silence fell upon you, but this one heavier than the previous ones – as if everything took a moment to catch its breath before you let it go, and with it came a deeply unsettling shiver down your spine.

But before you could question the statement, a beep came and took the patient away.

[kroosluvr]

【celexcity cosmetics × THE ROYAL Collaboration Confirmed!!】

A limited-time collaboration between 「celexcity cosmetics」 and Violet, Crow, and Joker has been announced!

Various goods will be sold alongside original visuals! ✨

Order Period: 7/28/24 – 8/5/24

Purchase 「celexcity cosmetics」 items over a certain amount in-store for a random photocard of either Violet, Crow, or Joker (while supplies last)! 🍱 🥞 ☕

hey u found the cele notes section. YAY

the lipstick colors r rather similar so its hard to tell but akira kissed goro, goro kissed sumire, sumire kissed akira

black mask choker, violet mask earring, joker mask lapel pin

also the logo i just threw together but it has elements from all their mask designs (sumi's floopy things and black mask for the wings and the sharp bits on the crown frm akira's mask) and also crown bc yay. and the sparkle-diamond on top also for sumi smile

heres my eyeshadow palette reasoning. AHEM

violet

glass slipper: cendrillon! yay!!!

your resolve: kasumi's ribbon. her resolve to become a world-class gymnast, bright red and passionate

my ambition: sumire's earrings. softer and gentler, but still a powerful gold shade, showing her resolve to carry on kasumi's dream as well as pursue hers

brave step: cendrillon's signature skill!

crow

dazzle: taken from "dazzle camouflage", the design concept for loki

dark sun: dark sun ova!

laevateinn: loki's signature skill!

proof of: proof of justice ova! it's the brightest shiniest color in his palette, referencing his pure and bright childhood dream of being a hero of justice

joker

unjust game: this truly was an unjust game...

guillotine: always have been fascinated w the persona fusion mechanic being a guillotine in p5... something super wrenching abt it. i still dont understand it 100% ADKJSAHKJS in terms of the symbolism

sea of souls: YIPPE!! also i wanted dark blue for his palette

leblanc: coffe:3

TY FOR READING!! i came up w this concept yesterday and stapled myself to my chair to finish it asap

[delicateflowerss]

DARK RED

That time of the month came early, and now the local vampire won't leave you alone.

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, period kink, blood, compulsion, blood drinking

Pairing: Roman Godfrey x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

happy spooky season and enjoy the first tale of spooktober <3

All you see is red. 

You were letting the warm water run down your back, closing your eyes in bliss. 

But when you opened them, you were met with red. Dripping down your thighs and staining the water going down the drain. 

You sigh with frustration at the fact that you’re early. 

Of all days, you had to get your period on Halloween. 

With how your luck has been lately, you’re not surprised. 

You get out of the shower, dry off and grab a tampon, hoping that you can still have a fun night out with your friends. 

~ 

A crisp autumn breeze makes you hug your arms closer to you. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you look around at the busy street. Everywhere you look, people are dressed in costumes. They’re either waiting in line for the club you’re standing outside of or walking to another destination. 

You grow uneasy as you don’t see any sight of your friends who said they would meet you there.  

You shift from one ruby red slipper to the other as you can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching you.  

It’s a heavy feeling, one that makes you feel claustrophobic.  

But you look around and find no one staring at you. 

You try to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. You realize you’ve been a little paranoid since you got fired from your job last month. 

You’re not exactly sure why. Whether it was a blow to your confidence or you felt that you pissed off the wrong guy in town. 

Hemlock Grove is small and he takes up a large part of it. 

“Hey!” 

Your breath hitches as you turn around, finding your friends in front of you. 

You feel yourself relax as you take in the familiar smiling faces. So stuck in your mind, you guess you didn’t hear them approaching you. 

“Sorry we’re a little late. Abby couldn’t find her cat ears.” 

You notice Abby roll her eyes and fix the ears on top of her head.  

“You look amazing!” Sara changes the subject, looking you up and down. 

You can’t help but grin before complimenting her on her own costume. 

“Thanks for waiting in line. Looks like we’ll be let in soon,” Sara says as she eyes the decreasing line ahead. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all week,” Abby says. 

“Is that why you lost the most important part of your costume?” 

Abby makes a face at Sara’s teasing.  

“I just hope some guy in a cheap vampire costume doesn’t hit on me like last year.” 

You and Sara just laugh at Abby’s comment as you all are let inside the club by the bouncer. 

As you walk in, you feel like your ears have gone inside your head. With the music and the amount of people, it’s deafening. 

The only lights on are colored. You blink, your vision going from purple to green to red. 

You and your friends walk up to the bar, lit up and decorated with fake spiders and cobwebs. 

Sara eyes the decorations before noticing people being served a bright blue drink with gummy eyeballs. 

“We have to get those,” she tells you and Abby. 

You nod, just wanting some sort of alcohol in your system. 

But while your friends order drinks, you can’t help but look around. 

They really went all out this year, you think, your eyes wide with awe. 

Your eyes scan the plastic gravestones before seeing someone that takes any wonder out of you and replaces it with a colder feeling. 

He stands across the room, staring at you. 

In a sea of people dressed in costumes. He’s the only one who isn’t.  

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth before letting the grey smoke furl from his pink lips.  

It surrounds him like a cloud before vanishing and then the cigarette is back in his mouth. He inhales, ready to do it again. 

For some reason, you continue to watch him.  

And he does the same, making that intense eye contact with you that you never liked. Even in a dark place like this, you can still make out that his eyes are green. 

It doesn’t even cross your mind that he shouldn’t be smoking in here.  

But that’s probably because rules don’t apply to men like Roman Godfrey. 

You finally turn away from him, but it feels difficult as if it takes all your strength to do it. 

Before you can think too much about why Roman does what he does and what he’s doing at this club on Halloween night, Sara hands you your drink. 

You take a much-needed gulp of it, tasting the sugar masking any alcohol. 

You follow your friends to a corner of the club, away from Roman. And when you gather the courage to look at him again, you find that he isn’t there anymore. 

Your eyes flit in a panic. You hated the idea of him standing in one spot, staring at you. But not knowing where he is now makes your heart race. 

You try to swallow down your fear before you see that a group of guys have approached you and your friends. 

You take another gulp of your drink as one of them walks up to you. It looks like he’s fighting off a smirk as he looks you up and down. 

“Dorothy, huh? That’s adorable,” he says and you can hear the condescending edge to his tone. 

You look at his own costume, noting the lack of effort that he put into it. 

You decide to at least smile, giving him some sort of reaction.  

He introduces himself and you look over at your friends, who seem preoccupied with the guys hitting on them. 

You had somewhat hoped that this wasn’t what you guys would end up doing this year. But you decide to play along.  

At least you know you won’t be going home with the guy since that time of the month came early. 

You offer up your name to him and try to answer his questions over the loud music. 

After a little while, he asks you if you want to dance. 

At first, you’re hesitant but when you look to where your friends were standing and don’t find them, you agree. 

Any thoughts of Roman disappear when you finish the blue liquid in your cup. 

And any thoughts of the guy you’re with disappear when you surround yourself with a ton of sweaty dancing bodies. 

The bass of the music shakes the floor and you can’t help but close your eyes as all you can focus on is that. 

It isn’t until the song changes that you open your eyes. 

When you do, the man you were with has completely vanished. You look around, unable to find him and you don’t think you can even remember what his name was. 

You search until you feel someone standing right behind you. 

You freeze, not able to move as if your feet have been planted to that exact spot on the dance floor. 

You want to move but he puts his hands on your shoulders like he’s stopping you.  

He waits a few moments before dragging them down your arms and you feel like you can’t even take a breath. 

You know who it is, as his pale hands try to grab yours.  

But you tear away from him, snapping the roots that were keeping you hostage. 

You turn to face him and you’re not surprised to find Roman looking down at you. 

You can’t read a single emotion on his face besides the slight trace of annoyance. 

But you think you have him beat on who is more annoyed. 

You don’t waste any time in storming away from him and the dance floor. But before you can get very far, he grabs your arm, yanking you toward him. 

“What’s your problem?” he asks, annoyance now more prominent in his expression. 

Your confusion turns to anger as you send him a searing glare. 

“My problem?” you echo. “What do you think my problem is, Roman?” 

He stares back at you with a question in his eyes and you don’t know if you want to laugh at him or pity him. 

You suppose that there’s a softness to Roman’s face, a boyish quality in his big round eyes and pouty lips. And that’s what lures you in, until you realize there’s something more sinister behind those eyes and in the curve of the ever-present scowl on his face. 

You’re not even surprised he’s trying to sleep with you now. You heard that’s something he does with all his assistants. 

You almost found it odd that he never tried anything with you the whole time you were employed by him. 

You take your arm out of his forceful grip. 

“I’m not going to sleep with you or whatever you want right now, Roman. You fired me for no fucking reason,” you yell but your voice is still not loud enough over the music. 

“I was good at my job. I did everything you asked and then you threw me out in front of everyone. It was humiliating,” you stop yourself when your voice cracks. 

For once, Roman has nothing to say.  

All he does is avert his gaze from you and all you can do is shake your head and walk away.  

You just want to get out of there but you realize you need to go to the restroom first. 

After searching for a couple minutes, you’re surprised to find the restroom with no line outside of it. 

The bathroom is dark, painted black with red stall doors. That uneasy feeling comes back as the space is strangely empty with no one around. 

You find a stall and lock it. 

You check your phone and see a message from Sara telling you that they have left without you.  

Of course, you think, rolling your eyes. 

You would be out of here right now too if you hadn’t gotten your period. 

You check your purse for a new tampon after taking out the old one. But after scurrying through the contents of your purse, you find nothing. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whisper. 

There’s absolutely no one around and you didn’t notice any tampon dispensers in the bathroom. 

Deciding that you’re about to leave anyway, you pull up your underwear and hope for the best. 

You leave the restroom, eyes on the floor as you think this might be the worst Halloween you’ve ever experienced. 

“Where’s Toto?” 

You almost can’t believe it when you hear his voice. But then you find him standing right in front of you. 

His height almost makes you feel trapped but it doesn’t stop you from showing how you really feel. 

“What?” 

One simple word from you holds every ounce of resentment you have towards him right now. 

“You’re supposed to be some slutty version of Dorothy, right?” 

“You’re such a dick,” you spit out before trying to go around him. 

He stops you with a light touch from his large hand. You look up at him, waiting for him to say something. 

He’s quiet for a moment while he runs his other hand through his hair, fighting with himself to get what he wants. 

Finally, he says your name. 

It’s soft but slightly demanding. 

You keep your attention on him like it’s something you don’t have to think about. 

The exit sign nearby bathes him in a blood red light. 

“Let’s talk outside,” is all he says. 

And for some entirely unknown reason, you agree. 

You follow him through the nearby exit, out into the alley. 

The music and sounds of the club are muffled now and you take in the eerie silence. 

You fix your gaze to him, waiting for him to speak. 

“I don’t want you to think I fired you for no reason,” he begins. 

You can tell it’s difficult for him. Roman doesn’t seem like the type to apologize or to willingly talk about his feelings. 

He looks at you and you can’t help but look back, gazing deeply into his eyes. 

“I fired you because I couldn’t stand being around you.” 

You feel like you’ve been kicked in the chest. 

“And it’s not what you think,” he continues, starting to walk toward you. 

You back up, each step taking you closer to the brick wall behind you until your back hits it, a small grunt leaving your lips. 

He steps closer and closer to you until he closes the gap between you two. 

You’re nervous, unsure of what to do, but all you can do is stare into those eyes. 

His voice gets lower as his mouth gets closer to you. 

“I fired you so I wouldn’t do something I regret.” 

You open your mouth in confusion, trying to form the words but instead he stops you with his lips hungrily kissing your open mouth. 

He licks inside your mouth as you breathe him in, your fingers twisting up the fabric of his black sweater. 

He moves his mouth away from yours and finds your neck. You move your head back to let him lick the column of your throat, nibbling at the delicate skin that covers the blood pumping through your body. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt hungrier,” he whispers until he hesitates. 

His hands move down your body, going under your dress and finding your underwear. 

But you stop him, your hand finding his. 

“Roman. I can’t.” 

He shushes you and says, “I could smell you from the moment you walked into the door.” 

You furrow your brow at his words and you almost stop him again but his movements are careless as he quickly rips off your underwear and kneels down before you. 

You look down at him, waiting for his reaction but he barely even takes a look at you before putting his tongue to your core. 

A moan escapes your lips as you throw your head back. He continues to lap at you, drinking the blood that pours from in-between your legs. 

You tangle your fingers into his hair as pleasure courses through you, the feeling rising within you as each cry comes from your mouth. 

He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on the swollen bud and letting his tongue brush over it.  

He moves his lips down, through your bloody folds and your eyelids flutter as you pull Roman’s hair harder. 

He continues like that while pleasure has completely replaced any disgust you have for Roman’s actions.  

Your breathing is fractured and as he takes your clit into his mouth again, you feel complete bliss overtake you as you let out one last moan. 

Your mind feels hazy as Roman stands back up. 

Then you blink, finding Roman’s lips and chin covered in blood. 

Confusion, fear, and disgust cloud your mind as you watch him slowly lick his lips as if he wouldn’t want to waste a single drop of you. 

His stained lips curve into a smirk before he brushes his thumb across your chin. Then he says something in that usual cocky tone of his. 

“Maybe I should hire you back. Then we can do this more often.” 

[catominor]

you are a roman senator, and one of your fellow senators just called you effeminate! what to do?

well, first you have to find out: how effeminate are you, really? take this test to find out!

do you:

like to wear the colors yellow, bright green, light blue, purple, or lavender: +1 for each

like to wear long sleeves: +1

enjoy the company of women: +1

like to wear perfume: +1

curl or style your hair: +1

shave any area of your body (other than your face and/or head) +1

move carefully in order to not mess up your outfit/hair/makeup: +1

wear a loose belt, or no belt: +1

like to wear loose fitting clothing: +1

have a lot of casual sex: +1

ever bottom in sexual encounters: +5

love your wife and are open about it: +1

like to wear translucent fabrics, or silk: +1 for each

wear your tunic longer than knee length: +1

wear more than one or two rings: +1

wear other jewelry (earrings, necklaces etc): +1

wear makeup: +1

have a complex and flamboyant oratorial style: +1

have long hair: +1

like to wear slippers: +1

enjoy living luxuriously: +1

have little impulse control: +1

once you have your total number, match it to these results!

0-4: you are a proper, virtuous roman man. only your political enemies would call you effeminate, and they do that to everyone. even if you scored a couple of points, most people understand that nobody is perfect.

5-10: you're getting into some dangerous territory here... you'd better watch out or your fellow senators will ridicule you for your womanish ways.

11-20: you are effeminate. all the other senators are definitely making fun of you. they're glancing at you, whispering in each others' ears and giggling as you walk in there with your little perfumed hairdo, or your fancy little outfit, or whatever got you a score this high.

21-25: “For one who daily perfumes himself and dresses before a mirror, whose eyebrows are trimmed, who walks abroad with beard plucked out and thighs made smooth, who at banquets, though a young man, has reclined in a long-sleeved tunic on the inner side of the couch with a lover, who is fond not only of wine but of men—does anyone doubt that he does what cinaedi commonly do?" *

26-31: you may as well just embrace it at this point. no one can dampen your effeminate swag if you just don't care what they think! you can even feel proud that you got the high score.

if you want to read more, this is a pretty good article that covers a lot of this stuff: https://www.jstor.org/stable/24616489

*(Gellius, Noctes Atticae 6.12.5, tr. J.C. Rolfe)

[gladiatorcunt]

　 　╰ • ❀ - ❛happy birthday, mr. emperor!❜ ✦

cw: afab reader, daddy kink, pretend it’s april 19th, implied painal sorry for writing an anakin that would love jane eyre too much, bondage mention, dark themes, implied age gap, blowjob

“I wish you could see how the stars I made shine for you, angel.”

Last night Anakin had tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, silently chuckling when it sprung back to smack you in the face. Your nose scrunched in that bunny-esque way he loves, and he whispered against your cheek that he loved you before departing your home. As soon as you heard the door swoosh shut behind him, a bright smile beamed across your face as you sprung out of bed and began preparing. You’d gotten better at pretending to be asleep, or maybe he’s just humoring you.

It took you hours to set up your husband’s surprise stay at home birthday celebration. His job as the Emperor of the Galaxy drains the life out of him even on his good days, so you do what you can to ease the tension however possible. Today is the day in which you put your heart and soul into adoring the love of your life. It wasn’t hard to decide on this kind of party. You’re more of the long distance vacation person in the relationship, and Anakin would gently scold you about how it wouldn’t be safe to even leave the palace most of the time.

You hum a catchy tune, looking in the mirror to make sure that the bow in your hair is tied perfectly. You picked a satin fabric that matches the color of Ani’s eyes, and a part of you can’t deny that the decision was motivated by the desire to see his jaw clench in possessiveness. The little thrills you manage to witness get you through the days inside. You do some last minute twirls, glancing over your outfit and ignoring the slight discomfort of the silk ropes underneath.

Your slippers slap against the floor all the way to the dining room. The servants had already been dismissed for the day as soon as your husband had left, something else that you wouldn’t mind getting a ‘thorough scolding’ for. You know Anakin just doesn’t like for you to ever feel the need to lift a single finger if he can help it, but it’s only fair that you be the best spouse you can be on his special day.

All the food lining the long rectangle shaped table is Ani’s favorite, painstakingly put together and placed in an arrangement by your own hands. You haven’t slept in what feels like forever, but it’ll all be worth it to see how happy this will make him. Like always, you don’t care to delve into how slick your pussy gets at the thought of his approval. Even a small grunt of acknowledgement when he’s distracted drives you wild.

After making sure that absolutely everything is in the proper place, cheesy decorations strung up all over the place included, you smooth your clothes down with your palms flat and wait in the bedroom. You hope he appreciates how restrained you’ve been since he’s been gone, the tempatation to hump your puffy folds against the pillow he lays his head on is still on your mind. Anakin usually wakes you up by licking a flat stripe up your cunt under the covers and hooking his fingers in your hole to stretch it enough for him to spit in, always already naked from the night before. Like a cat kneading the surface it’s walking on, you could cry at being deprived of grounding yourself by burying your shaking hands in his soft hair.

Your excitement must bleed into the Force somehow, because you hear the heavy stomps of boots sooner than you thought. You scramble to meet your husband at the door, remembering how he once admitted that he likes to hear how happy you are to see him when he gets back. The cat never fails to return to check on the canary, and when it eats the stubbornly cheerful thing it doesn’t have to. It knows exactly where the bird is, and always will be.

You don’t even wait for him to get out of his armor and into his more casual attire that he likes to lounge around in at home. As soon as you see your favorite crow’s feet wrinkles revealed by the silver door, you pounce.

With very little effort, you reach up and push the top of your outfit off your shoulders. Anakin’s darkened gaze follows the truthfully skimpy garment as it falls to pool around your ankles. Your cheeks burn and you pray that he’ll take his time admiring you but no such luck, his eyes quickly flick up to see the start of a series of clumsily tied loose silk knots. The holonet tutorial you followed was sort of confusing, but you thought you managed to pull it off in the end!

“Fuck, look at you, bunny.” He groans, prowling around you in a slow circle. “All this for some boring old man?”

“Hey, ‘s not nice…” You wring your hands together, wiggling your plump ass for him as he makes his rounds. “You’re MY boring old man, Ani.”

“Watch it.”

“Or what?” You giggle despite the warning look he’s giving you.

The heat in his gaze feels like flames licking at your spine, but you don’t push him any further. You would never want him to have a stressed induced heart attack. Your unspoken jab makes you giggle again until you realize that Anakin could peek into your mind whenever he pleases.

The sudden slap to your rear doesn’t surprise you, nor do the frenzied squeezes. He loves to watch the skin bulge out between his thick fingers, he loves your fat ass period. The blush pink ribbons were tied together in a way that you knew would enhance your curves, putting enough pressure on your plush ass and tits in particular to really make them pop. Your thighs were nothing to forget about, though, you know better than to assume that Ani doesn’t love every bit of his baby equally.

He circles back around to face you and grins. He adjusts his cock in his pants, not taking his eyes off fof you for even a second, “So fuckin’ gorgeous, honey. And here I was about to say that the best thing I could receive is waking up to you every day.”

“Thank you, Daddy, Happy Birthday.” You purr, sinking to your knees and winding your arm around his thigh, nuzzling into the seam of his pants like you were searching for something.

He ‘tsk’s above you but he sighs and waves his hand in the air, summoning an emerald green cushion to slide under your knees before you hit the floor. That pillow didn’t exist in the beginning of your relationship, but you’ve ended up loving being like this so much that it became a necessity.

Anakin groans as you mouth at his bulge over his slacks, wetting the fabric with your kitten licks to his tip. He settles a heavy palm on top of your head and gives you a couple pats. Neither of you are in any rush, both enjoying your dynamic in a more sensual way. Ani loves how cock drunk you already seem to be, the tension in his body just melts away when he can see how much you’re salivating over your mind going blank.

“You can’t go dumb on me, Angel, I haven’t even got my present yet.” He teases you and grins when you mewl distractedly.

You’re trying really hard to pay attention, promise, but you couldn’t ignore your husband’s natural musk if you tried. “ ‘ngh- hah… ‘Sorry, Daddy.”

Then you remember that you can’t spend the rest of your life on your knees (you wish), so you sheepishly wipe the drool from your mouth. You have trouble getting hold of the zipper, your fingers being too wet to properly pull it. Your embarrassment is short lived, because Anakin is using the Force to undo it and slide his pants down far enough to free his throbbing length.

You pout in disappointment when it doesn’t flop out to smack you across the face. In no time at all you’re slobbering all over his cock.

You flutter your eyelashes up at your husband, hollowing out your cheeks and humming periodically. You can’t help the satisfied grin that comes over you whenever you get a deep groan or grunt in response. Your mouth makes ‘slurp!’ sounds as you suck him off, a sharp ‘pop!’ going off when you pull the suction away to trace the veins on the underside of his curved cock. Precum beads to the surface but they’re swiftly licked away, you outright make out with the thick tip of his dick for a good minute.

Anakin would tease you for how much of a bitch in heat you’re being, but he’s no better when he wriggles his tongue fucking either of your holes. He’d call you that with love though, he’ll never forget how grateful he is to still have you after everything.

“My consort loves their dick, huh? Should I even ask if you’ve prepped your ass?” He asks and you smother your smile in his balls as you lavish them in your saliva.

“Good bunny.” Anakin sighs, balling his fist up in your hair. “Daddy knows you like it when it hurts, angel.”

And you do, even with the dried cum around the corners of your mouth and the tears spilling over. You’re smiling in between gasps of breath with every heavy thrust, you send a thought into the Force of concern over the state of Ani’s joints and you squeal when he speeds up. He hadn’t even bottomed out yet, your puffy rim was already red enough from his bullying the blunt head past your entrance.

You sob and let your mouth hang open, staring off into space as you feel his length cleave your insides in two. The kisses dotted all over your face help soothe you, but you still pant and dig your nails into his wrist on the side of your head caging you in. Anakin’s other hand kneads one of your ass cheeks, giving you more quick pats when he think you’re getting too worked up.

Some of the ribbons wrapped around your body have been destroyed, either by Anakin’s irritation when he wanted more access or by how amateurish your knot tying skills were. The ones around your ass are still intact, and you do your best to shake your ass against the remaining inches sinking inside your puckered hole, wondering if Ani can pick up on the shimmer of the ropes in the dim light.

He’s a good man, your Ani, he only lets it hurt on special occasions. If you rub up on him really nicely, ruining your ass goes outside of those occasions. It’s his birthday, why not let him play with his favorite toy how he wishes? You take pride in the leash you have around his every waking and slumbering desire, he has the same hold on you.

At the end, the universe will only know the carnage Darth Vader left in his wake. Long dead twin suns will singe the memory of Anakin Skywalker and his lover into the fabric of reality.

[beiasluv]

ice creams? | cl16 + al12

a/n: Idk this is so random, lmk if you guys found it cute or weird 💀

Being a Monegasque resident had its perks – being the Leclercs’ neighbor also had its perks.

Like getting a bowl of Bouillabaisse when they heard you were sick, getting invited to Charles’s karting race – and he won, or babysitting the little devils. One of them was Charles, a seven-year-old, or what he likes to say that he is ‘thee years older than arth’; and Arthur, the four-year-old.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t much of a perk.

—

Fridays called for an extra long time in bed, snuggling into your air-conditioned room and, definitely, without a blasting ringing down your hallway – your cream-colored house phone, hanging by the bronzed framed mirror.

Groaning as you threw the pink duvet off your body, slipping into your slippers – not so sure whether your parents leaving for a business trip was so good after all.

“Hello?” You said, rubbing your eyes clear to make out the dimmed outlines of your hallway. Approaching midnight if your mental clock worked properly.

“Hi, chérie,” came the reply, the caller not sounding not so much better than you. “I’m sorry for calling in so late, is it possible for you to look after the boys–”

“Yes– yes, I’ll be over.” It slipped off your mouth, not sure whether where that urgency came from. Or was it the growing worry for the two little boys.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, chérie.” She sighed. “Lorenzo got himself in trouble, we’re going to the ER–”

“Maman, don’t worry. I got them,” you cut her off, shaking your head unconsciously. Perhaps biting your smile that how one of them managed to get in trouble again this week.

“Thank you so much, dear.”

Mumbling the last ‘see you’ to the speaker, you hung the handset back to its hook on the wall. Not that it was the end of the world babysitting the younger Leclercs, they were sweethearts – what’s the worst that could happen, right?

—

Everything came in a blur: knocking at their front door, Pascale and Harvé rushing to greet you while whisking Lorenzo out the door, and then seeing Charles and Arthur coloring with their crayons on the carpet in the middle of the living room.

The one that you were so sure was filled with tears a couple of hours ago while ‘whatever happened’ happened.

Now, the three of you found yourselves on the sofa, watching the television, and the boys stuffing their faces with popcorn just to make them a little bit fuller and slower.

Which, you were sure, was not happening any soon. They were restless. A giggling mess, if you will.

“Aren’t you guys a little tired?” You asked, trying to see if they were hinting just a little bit of a yearning for bed, that you were sure to whisk them away if they were. Yawning and rubbing your eyes were not helping.

Arthur got his little legs propped up in a ‘M-shaped’ way, while Charles snuggled next to your arms on the other side. They blinked their brown eyes from stimulating cartoons on the television to your eyes – still big and bright as ever.

"Nooo..." both Charles and Arthur replied almost at the same time, shaking their little heads left to right. The older one said with his mouth full of popcorn and the younger one continued to find his arms in an interesting position.

“Alright…what do you guys wanna do?” You appealed to in defeat, rubbing your eyes.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Arthur yelled, looking at his brother for a support. As if seeing the little gears turning in little Charles’s head, his little eyes litting up in the process.

"Yes! Please? Yn? Please?" Charles replied, leaving the popcorn bucket and candy bag on the table. Jumping up and down while giving you the best puppy eyes.

Sighing, there was no other choice. You either play the game or get dragged into some new invented game – that would definitely took more time to explain than to participate.

“Yes…yes,” your eyes turned upside down at their enthusiasm, wiping the popcorn from Arthur’s mouth corner. Booping Arthur’s nose softly, “You are the seeker.”

“Awe,” the younger one slumped on the couch. Dramatically lifting his arms as high as he could.

“Ha! What about me?” Charles interjected, intertwining between your arms – between you and Arthur.

“Charlie–”

“Start counting Arth!” Charles said with a change of mind as he run away with his little legs from Arthur – you doing the same. With the only goal of finding a good spot, maybe you’ll get a little nap while Arthur tries to navigate the house.

—

Long enough, you finally heard a higher-pitched laughter followed by a slightly lower-pitched groan: letting you know that they got back together. Besides, the stumbling sounds enlightened you that they started looking through the kitchen, they opened the refrigerator, the pantry, the cabinets...

They ran everywhere, yelling and laughing. Sometimes just to hear the other one laughing too.

“Yn!” “Where are you!”

Little hands grabbing all the places they could grab, climbing on top of each other if they wanted – still looking around and getting into weird positions to look under the furniture.

Charles and Arthur started to get a little frustrated at not finding you, and this little bit of stress made them nervous, making all kind of noises.

"Where is she? Where is she?" Charles yelled, looking at his younger brother – his head getting a little redder from looking upside down under the cabinets.

"Maybe she is in the bathroom! Or maybe she ran out of the house?" Arthur replied, in a loud voice, getting into weird positions too.

"Maybe she went to papa’s room!" Charles replied, and both he and his younger brother ran their little ways up the stairs to check the adults' bedroom.

The room stood still as they pushed the door open. There was maman’s perfume on her side table, papa’s reading glasses on the other side, and something on the dresser – too tall for them to see. The two little boys searched every corner, they even checked under the bed, but there was no trace of your jeans hem or khaki sweater.

At that moment, they were starting to get hopeless, and they did what hopeless children do best: sniffling.

Little sniffles turned into hiccups, hiccups turned into cries. Arthur seeing his brother wiping his little eyes dry, he found himself slumping on the floor, mimicking Charles’s teary eyes.

“Oh, no– I’m here– awe, guys–”

Without wasting another minute, the boys ran to hug you – clinging and wiping their faces onto your sweater. You welcomed them with open arms, and little kiss for each one.

“We couldn’t find you!” Charles hiccuped out, faltered-heartily, while Arthur just nodded and mumbled something. Now, they were like a pair of puppies, begging for your attention.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled at the sight, rubbing and patting their backs.

“No funny!” Arthur hid is face in your chest.

The little boys remained in your arms, hugging tightly, like two pieces of dough. Tears resided into just stains and hiccups returned into sniffles.

“Alright– I’m sorry,” you nodded, making zipping motion while continuing rubbing their arms. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Just maybe the fact that Charles slowly tear his face away from comfort, showing cheeky smiles…

“Can we have some ice cream?”

“Please? Please?" Arthur replied, with his head still down, hugging her with all his might.

“But you guys already had…” knowing they are a little faltered hearted at the incident – maybe using it to their little advantages. “fine. But no more–”

"Yay!!" they replied in excitement, jumping out of your arms, but keeping you close by. “Thank you Yn!”

Now more hopeful and happy, the little boys ran towards the kitchen without saying another word. They were now a duo in a mission for food, and to cause as much trouble as possible on their route…

I have a mark fic incoming…lmk if you guys are interested??😘😘

interact if y’all liked it, do what ever you want. Imma start writing fics again 💀

today’s a good day to take care of yourself!!

[titanic-angel]

мιgυel o'нara х F!reader

◥︎ 『 coғғee ︎pт.1 』︎ ◣

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ѕυммary ➞︎ yoυ вrιng мιgυel coғғee тo нelp нιм тнroυgн a long worĸ nιgнт

warnιngѕ ➞︎ none

noтeѕ ➞︎ part 2 is up ❤︎

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The evening air was so dry in the summer, and the silence that invited itself into the coffee room buried deep in your skin. The tiles felt cold under your slippers, the setting sun stealing the heat and light from every inch of the room.

You let out a harsh breath, pouring the deep brown liquid into the two cups, staining the white glass with caffeine and steam.

You, Jess, and Peter B had made an agreement since your involvement in the Spider Society had started.

Miguel’s workaholism caused long periods of time, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t even leave his lair, chest deep in his own mind and perfectionism. You all initially believed that his inhumane attributes gave him the stamina to last weeks without rest, but after catching him in deep sleep on his own computer, you realized the goliath wasn’t, in fact, invincible.

So, like any good friends (although Miguel never really used those terms), you took shifts bringing him coffee. With the mugs, Peter and Mayday brought him laughter (all of which was their own, but there wasn’t an indication he didn’t appreciate it), Jess brought him a tough love and a listening ear that fueled his work and you…

Well you weren’t sure what you offered.

You never left without a conversation- and maybe a little coffee yourself. Sometimes he would explain whatever anomaly had taken his attention for the hour, or he would stay silent, listening to you talk about your own day, slightly less exhausting but much more exciting.

Most times, however, you’d give him his coffee, and without saying much, he would look at you.

You are convinced more and more each time that, years ago, his eyes were more brown than they were red. Deep bronze like the color of the coffee in his cup. Younger than they are now. Maybe it was his exhaustion seeping through his irises, but something in the way he looked at you…it felt softer.

Kinder.

You shook off the image as your slippers padded against the hallway marble, the once lively hub now hushed to an empty whisper.

Jess had gone to her universe, undoubtedly resting her weary body, and Peter B eagerly ran home to his beloved red-heads. Homes filled, endlessly, with reunions, warm meals and kisses doused in exhaustion and a love unique to them.

You were happy for them, but you would be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t envious.

Quietly, secretly, you much preferred the hub over your own home, it’s thrum of life filling the emptiness of your crammed apartment. It was depressing to go home to silence after a day of action, which meant many nights you slept in your office, feigning the stress of work and battles to avoid questions from your peers.

You stepped over stray wires and scraps of metal, amongst other abandoned equipment you were sure meant something, once. The dark room was illuminated in neon, flashing lights pulsing across the floor and ceiling.

His gigantic platform came into view, hovering over the pitch floor. The familiar sight of him, surrounded by yellow holograms, greeted your eyes with a brightness that made you squint, vision adjusting to the light.

You caught the butt-end of a conversation, Lyla glitching around his head with attitude. You kept your mouth shut, a little curious to hear their idle chat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Miguel said, flatly.

“Don’t play stupid, I’m an incredibly intelligent A.I. I know fondness when I see it.”

“She brings me coffee- that’s all.”

You paused, muscles tense and the suggestion that they were talking about you.

“I don’t know Miguel~. Peter B and Jess do the same and you aren’t as soft with them.”

“I am not soft!”

“Sure, sure.”

Lyla’s hologram stuttered, and she suddenly focused you. Even from far below, you recognized her mischievous grin.

“Well, I’m feeling awfully tiered. It’s very late y’know! I’ll just let you do your thing!”

“But you don’t-“ Miguel followed her line of sight. He looked down at you with surprise, and you sent him an awkward wave through the cup handle.

“Bye!” Lyla’s drawn out y’s echoed even as she disappeared, Miguel’s hand swiping at the air before she vanished.

He let out a harsh sigh, and you slung up to his platform, handing him a cup. He looked at you again, that faint brown sparkling clearer tonight.

Strange.

“Thank you.”

You nodded, leaning against his table.

“Long night again?” You asked, thumb tracing the smooth glass of the handle.

Miguel nodded, letting another exhausted sigh escape his chest. “Yes.”

You waited for more, but it never came, Miguel shifting near awkwardly as he clicked on the screens with his free hand.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your cup. You shuddered, unfamiliar with the pure caffeine. You looked down at your cup, dark brown looking back.

Oh shit.

You watched in short-lived anticipation as he took a sip of your cup. He’s face scrunched in surprise, as if the sweetness of sugar and cream was completely foreign to him.

He looked at you, the red in his eyes more prominent now. Your cheeks strained, but soon the ballon of laughter burst from your chest.

It bounced off the dark walls, echoing around the both of you. You closed your eyes, squeezing out tears as you gripped his desk, laughter shaking your core.

When you regained yourself, you slowly sat up, wiping your wet cheeks and grinning ear to ear. You sighed, small laughs residing with your quickened breath.

“Oh, Miguel you should’ve see your-“

You stopped.

Miguel was smiling.

Well, in the generous sense of the word. Although it wasn’t bright like Peter B’s or gentle like Jess, it was genuine. His eyes crinkled, his lips drawn into a gentle upturn, highlighting his dimples.

Your shocked face must have startled it, because it quickly disappeared, now taught in a hardened, neutral line.

You smiled at him empathetically, slightly guilty you had embarrassed him. You reached out your hand, beckoning your drink.

“Here…let’s switch.”

You fingers brushed at the exchange, and you blushed, the warmth of his skin penetrating your own. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show, taking a quiet sip of his flavorless, bitter coffee.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, agonizingly different from the laughter just seconds before.

You were beginning to think that he really only was fond of you because you brought him coffee. Sure, you had polite conversation but it never really passed surface level. Not to mention you always initiated it. Maybe Miguel was just playing along, desperately waiting for you to leave him to his work and study.

You sighed, your tone possibly letting on to more than you would’ve liked. You stood, flexing your legs and taking a sip from your cooling coffee, ready to breathe air that wasn’t so endlessly stiff.

“Why- why do you drink coffee with so much sweetness in it?”

You paused, looking at Miguel with surprise. He’d never asked you a question like that. A question about you.

“I uh- well,” you laughed a little bit, still a little startled at the sudden interjection, “black coffee is too bitter for me. The sugar and cream lets me enjoy it.”

“But coffee is meant to energize you, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

You lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a pretty serious take, don’t you think?”

Miguel paused, lips pressed together in thought before he replied, “I’m a serious guy.”

You laughed, a little quieter now, leaning back onto the table. But this time, closer to him. If you were paying attention, the way his eyes looked at your new position might of told you he noticed.

“I gathered.”

Silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanket. But now, you had hope that he might want this conversation to continue. That he liked it- you.

“How about this Mr. Serious,” you leaned in, “I’ll give your black coffee another shot if you do the same for my sugar and cream.”

He scoffed, but when the corners of his mouth quirked up you knew the proposition interested him- if only a little bit.

“Absolutely not. I already did try it.”

“First impressions aren’t always accurate, y’know.” You shook your mug, the light brown liquid creating a small whirlpool.

“Try it? For me?”

He glanced at you, and although you thought yourself educated on his eyes and their looks, you were stumped by this one. It was entirely alien to you- there was something in it that you couldn’t place.

You liked it.

He let out a sigh, and held his hand out. You grinned, taking his mug and swapping it for your own.

You both took a sip, and you forced yourself not to wrinkle your nose.

His coffee was extremely bitter- as close as coffee could get to the bean. If his scowl and general demeanor was grown and grind into a beverage, his drink of choice is what it would taste like.

However, it was extremely warm. Somehow it hadn’t cooled off in the fifteen minutes since you had poured it. It’s bitter bliss seeped down your throat and made home in your chest. It was almost calming.

You opened your eyes, surprised to be as content as you were with the drink.

You glanced at Miguel, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. His brows were drawn in thought, eyes glimmering in the hologram light.

“Well?” You asked, rocking on your heels.

“You first.”

You paused, running your tongue over you teeth to remember. “It was a bit gross. But honestly? No bad.”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yours wasn’t….bad either.”

You gasped, a wide smile spreading across your face in stunned victory. “So you liked it.”

“I never said that.” He said, narrowing his brows.

You raised yours. “Didn’t have too.”

He shook his head, handing you the coffee mug. You looked at him as if to ask are you sure? To which he rolled his eyes and pushed it closer to your chest.

You sighed, taking his cup and swapping mugs for the last time. When you looked up at him, sending him a gentle smile, you noticed a thin line of cream that lined his dark lips. You stifled your laughter, stepping forward to a clueless and confused Miguel.

“What are you-“

“Stay put, you have a little-“

You brought your hand up to his face, cradling is course skin under your palm. Your movement stuttered, just for a moment, savoring the feeling of his rough jaw.

You lifted a gentle thumb, your touch but a whisper on his skin as wiped the sweetness from his upper lip. Contrary to his jaw, his lips were soft under your print, molding to your movement with ease.

You imagine they’d taste like coffee.

You paused, your eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes. When they met yours, they were the softest brown you’d ever remember seeing them. It could be how close you were, feeling his slow breath on your nose. It could be how small, short the moment was, catching his facade in a moment of weakness.

But you think, hopefully, foolishly, that it might be how good it felt- to be this close.

You drew your hand away, still staring at the warmth. You settled yourself on the floor, holding your cup with both hands, the once steaming glass now a cold comparison to his face.

“You…you had some cream left on your face.” You laughed weakly, your gaze looking to the side. “I didn’t want Lyla to make fun of you.”

You paused, uncomfortable with the silence your created.

“Sorry.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, with that same glimmer you couldn’t quite place. He cleared is throat, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“It’s- okay…I-“ He paused, eyes finding your again, “thank you.”

He had whispered, speaking as though if he has said it any louder he would’ve scared you away. It was so- gentle compared to the gruffness of his voice. Warm.

The silence that followed was completely novel from the past dips in conversation. It was full of tension, thick and suffocating. It felt as if you had swallowed cement, every breath trapped in your collarbone and buried in your throat.

You stepped back, your vision so deep in his own- their intensity making it feel as though there wasn’t anything else to look at. Even in their softer colors, they were so deeply overwhelming it felt like they had woken something visceral in you. It wasn’t fear, or terror-

It was fondness.

“Well- I think I need to get my own rest,” you tore your gaze from his, setting your coffee down on the table next to him, “I won’t be needing this- I don’t want caffeine dreams. You’re welcome to finish it- now that you like it. A little.”

You smiled up at him, the thrum of your heart and the heat of your breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

His chest rumbled, preparing to speak, before he sighed quietly and quickly, another genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Goodnight.”

You took one last look at the brown- intimate and tailored to yours. One look at the coffee cups, different in every sense but comforting none the less.

One look at the man who may have just given you the home you’d been envious of.

As you slung off into the the void, you smiled at it all, welcoming the shudders of warmth that pooled in your stomach at the revelation.

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The next morning, you woke up in your office yet again, the early morning chill crawling up your spine and beckoning you to wake.

The first thing your eyes were met with was your mug, matte in the morning light.

It was empty, a yellow note rested under it.

I didn’t want it to go to waste.

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Part 2