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#my draft board is full
thegirlwhoblooms · 1 year
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only the young + heroes of our time
so...im working on two different original works rn. i really wanna stop but im on a roll rn and 'HOOT' (heh lol) is getting its outline done quite nicely. main character: franchesca 'fran' beldami. she's by far one of my best written characters to date and im posting her character profile soon too as well as most of the main characters of 'OTY' but i feel like i went too overboard in describing their likes/dislikes?
i swear i wrote an english essay trying to write joshua kamble
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buckera · 9 months
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Moodboard Monday/Tidbit Tuesday ☔️
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I finally managed to make a mood board for the mudslide fic that I actually kinda like, so here, have this and a tiny snippet.
Buck was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened, it was all so quick; the rain, the debris, the mudslide and then the moment of radio silence before the chaotic explosion of noise. “We’re not giving up on him.” Bobby had said at the time, but after four days, it has become abundantly clear that instead of a search and rescue, most people have already started to treat this as a recovery mission; except they still haven’t recovered the person who mattered the most. Buck buried his face into his palms, trying to breathe without choking on his own tears, cursing at Eddie in his head for leaving him here, disappearing without a trace. He took a few deep breaths and pushed himself off of the couch — Eddie’s couch, where he was sleeping the past four days, unwilling to go into the bedroom. He wanted to be close to the door in case someone else had found Eddie while Buck was wasting his time with sleep, so he could welcome Eddie home and let him take his rightful place in his own bed. It was almost childish how much Buck was clinging to this fantasy, but it was the only thing keeping him on his feet; and he knew Christopher needed him standing, now more than ever.
tags under the cut 💛
I was tagged by @daffi-990 and @wikiangela thank youuu~ 💛
✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @jamespearce9-1-1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @nmcggg @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @ladydorian05
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ritz-stimzz · 24 days
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🐾 × ☠ 🍼 🐟 × ❤ ☠ 🥓 × 🖍 💙 ☠
stimboard for my izzy fan baby 😔😔 her name is carmille, she likes blueberries, bacon, pirate shows, and repeating people. i love her with my whole heart smh
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paintedpawz · 11 months
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Oh my, how sweet! Resident darling of this dark and spooky little cul-de-sac wants to go trick 'r treat with you. Just beware, neighbor... not all the residents are as friendly as he is. 😈
Little quick redesign of Imp Wally inspired by @killertoons design, since my old design just wasn't as cute and I personally feel I've gotten better at drawing Wally! I had to of course add Home, or rather Monster House inspired home and I had a lot of fun experimenting with a more detailed background in a doodle that turned into a thought out sketch. My reference actually, was this piece of Sam merch I WANT SO BAD......
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sysig · 1 year
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I have made
the rough
of an improv card game
#It's late and I'm feeling impulsive it's fine#My subconsious offered a story-driven randomized roleplay game in a dream last night#The dream version was obviously fancier but for a rough draft it is cute as fuck#Made with two pieces of paper (I just realized I can make more cards from the scrap of one of them heeheehoohoo)#I've made the board and 12 cards as the starter pack and they're all adorable#The board is just a simple L-shaped grid with seven spaces - the dream version had something close to double that#I think making it modular/with expansions similar to card packs (lol) would make it infinitely replayable and expandable#Not that a longer game with more players would necessarily be more fun but it's still something you could do! Lol#Recommended number of players on the current model is 3+ with one of the players acting as the GM#The full version is also 3+ but with a little more wiggle room for early game - I think it could comfortably host 5+ including the GM?#Anyway the plot is a whodunit where the third player (including the GM) plays as the murderer - their goal is to get away with the murder#While the other players' goal is to find out who did it and why and then apprehend the criminal#It's not as set in stone as Clue - like there's no murder weapons or necessary locations - all that part is improv#The cards are all either Character or Location cards - Characters are easy to understand archetypes that the player has to embody#But depending on the order players draw cards determines what role they play in the story - so say they pull the Mad Scientist card#If they pull first then the Mad Scientist is the host of the party that the murder occurs at - if they pull second then the Scientist dies#And so on#So anyway I finished all the art for the Characters (9) and Locations (3) and they're all adorable I love them#I tried to make most of them gender neutral or at least open to interpretation but a couple of them lean a bit more one way#It'd be silly but the idea of special edition cards with alternate art to lessen the disappointment of getting a double sounds fun haha#Anyway - I'm gonna see if I can playtest it tomorrow :)
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dilfkuza · 8 months
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most of the 0jima writing ive gotten done has been while im in recovery 🤔 coincidence?
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zosanbrainrot · 30 days
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part 05!!
01 02 03 04 05 06
It's been a while since I last worked on this comic, I've been busy
☘️🦋☀️ experiencing summer ☀️🦋☘️
which was and still is a lot of fun!
ANYHOW, I feel like when I stop drawing for a while it usually does me good, like, I'm very happy with my art quality in these panels and I didn't change much since the first draft (I still overthink some of the decisions but not as much as with the last part lmao).
It's like when in games you have a separate bar for running/stamina and it can only fill back up fully once you go slow and just walk for a while, but if you insist on running all the time it's never really at full capacity. Can't think of a better analogy, but lmk if you feel the same!
One of the things I maybe would have done differently is to have Yonji take the spear out of Zoro's shoulder, maybe?? It was so good when I first saw people draw a parallel between Zoro and Yonji because of their hair color and that maybe Sanji subconsciously has thought about this too ever since he and Zoro met. Not a meaningful thing for their relationship but more of an offhand thought that would surface from time to time. Him carrying the memories of his childhood all the time with him.
But! The upside of me not picking Yonji is that both Ichiji and Niji have the goggles so without their eyes visible they feel kinda distant emotionally and that works both bcs of who they are and also bcs the comic is not about them, in that panel where Niji has Sanji in a headlock the emotional focus is solely on Sanji.
And also Yonji just turned out so good there that I didn't wanna go back and change him lmao
I admit, when I was coming up with the plot of this comic in a frenzy right after watching these eps I kinda forgot about Nami slapping Sanji lmao I only recently remembered :' ) Don't wanna dwell on it too much though.
This part feels maybe more distant overall - I don't have any closeup shots (except the spear!) and the last moment you see Sanji's face fully is when he looks at Zoro. Zoro who got hurt. Again. Because of him.
I can't remember what I'd been thinking while boarding these, it'd been mostly vibes based, but I think the function of this part ended up being about showing a sequence of events rather than focusing on the emotions. It's pushing the plot forward and I think if I added closeups to the Vinsmokes then it'd be derailing a bit, again, it's not about them.
On the other hand it also works for Sanji shutting his emotions off, once his brothers and Judge enter the scene he has no leeway, he can't let his true feelings show. He's already shown too much. And what did it lead to? Everyone getting even more hurt. He let himself slip up during his fight with Zoro and Judge quickly put him back in his place. As long as the Strawhats were on the island they weren't truly safe. So he turns on his heel and walks back to the carriage, not looking back, he can only hope that Zoro's gonna pull through. He always does, he's been through worse, right? Right? They've never fought like this before though... The burn marks will take long to heal... And Luffy, has he woken up yet? No, no, no, he can't look back. And Nami...
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So that's that! I got part 06 half finished already, so that should be out soon <333
as a bonus thing - some of the refs I've used for this part
3D models posed in Magicposer!
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finniestoncrane · 5 months
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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satorhime · 1 year
Text
. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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38sr · 1 year
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My Adventures with Superman EP 4: Design Works
My goodness it feels so strange to see these designs two years later but I actually had a hand in Clark, Lois and Jimmy’s gala suits in episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman!
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This happened WAY back in Sept 2021 but during my first week on the show I jokingly sent a piece of art to one of the design leads and well, one thing led to another:
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This is kind of running gag with my work, but I somehow always predict things when I draw fanart haha. I truly didn’t know there was gonna be a gala episode and now I was tasked to do a pass for the main trio’s gala outfits.
CLARK KENT
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Naturally since it started with Clark, he was the first one I did a pass on. I actually really like men’s suits design so this was the most fun to design out of the three. Overall, I drafted up four different suits that gave 4 different feels for our soft boi. Option A was a full 3 piece with slick backed hair (which honestly now feels very Bruce Wayne than Clark haha). Option B had a high school prom feel, Option C was more business casual (hence why his dress shirt was unbuttoned at top) and finally Option D was sleek turtleneck & suit combo. Honestly, I was rooting Option D ‘cause I’m a sucker for a turtleneck but if I  remember correct they went with Option B ‘cause it felt the most Clark. But just know I tried haha.
LOIS LANE
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Lois’s outfit was quite challenging since I had no clue until I was given the assignment that she’s Korean (yes, Lois is canonically Korean in the show). I remember the design leads Jane Bak and Dou Hong showing me a rough concept of a modern hanbok. I spent so many days researching hanboks and the construction behind them...it truly was a learning experience for me haha. It was quite challenging trying to create and outfit that spoke to Lois’ heritage while still keeping her energy. This was my very first pass but I think ultimately the team did a great job to hone in the final look and balance both elements for her outfit (the backless top is just chef’s kiss). Also yes, I did try giving Lois slick back hair haha.
JIMMY OLSEN
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There isn’t much to say about Jimmy’s outfit (sadly I left the production to work on Spiderman Freshman Year before seeing what they decided on). But from what I remember, I specifically was looking at men’s outfits from the Met Gala from that year and before (I think Chadwick Boseman was the biggest influence for me at the time). Though I think his final suit design aren’t like too far off from my initial thoughts, it’s still super cool to see how it evolved into the final look!  But yeah! Just a little behind the scenes on the work I got to do on the show. Again, super brief since Spidey was calling my name but I truly had so much fun getting to design for this show. MAWS was my first ever time doing design work (since I primarily work as a 2D animator and board artist). I was so nervous but the team was welcoming and taught me so much! I really have to thank Dou Hong and Jake Wyatt for taking a chance on me and allowing me to draw hot anime characters for a DC show haha.
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incendiobrock · 7 months
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Surprise! {Damon Salvatore}
Summary: When no one is answering y/n’s calls or texts, they try their best to figure out what is going on in their friend group. Unaware of some supernatural issues, y/n is met with a surprise that changes their life forever. *This imagine is meant to be set somewhere in season 2ish*
A/N: The ending wasn’t where I was planning on leaving this imagine but I’m trying to clear out my drafts and this was written a year or so ago, so I’m going to leave it like this. Hope you still enjoy!
Warnings: fighting, slight language, mentions of blood, dying (stabbing), graphic
GIF ISN”T MINE CREDS TO OP (for the sake of this imagine pretend that’s Katherine and not Elena)
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--------------------------------------------------------------
You knocked lightly on the big wooden door, wondering why no one had been returning your phone calls. No answer, you should’ve known… You tried the metal door knob and shockingly it was unlocked. The heavy door slowly opened into the foyer of the old Victorian mansion. Your shoes made sounds that echoed through the house as they made contact with the wooden floor boards. You glanced around, noticing the deafening silence that filled the space normally filled with chaos. Something wasn’t right.
You were now standing in the living room, taking in your surroundings. Your brows furrowed as you noticed the fire smoldering in the fireplace. There was a dried puddle of blood staining the carpet, nearly three feet in front of you. A full glass of Damon’s bourbon sat discarded on a table.
“Hello?” You called out, now looking down the hallway and towards the stairs to the upper level of the house. You jumped, suddenly hearing a faint bang coming from the opposite end of the hallway. You walked quickly over to the door that led down to the cellar. As you went to push open the door it flew towards you revealing Elena who must’ve been coming back upstairs. “Jesus Elena! You scared the hell out of me!” You yelled, grabbing at your heart as you tried to steady your breathing.
She looked at you slightly confused, “What are you doing here?” Her voice was nearly a whisper. You went to answer her as she made her way in front of you, heading back into the living room. You followed quickly behind, “I have been calling you guys, no one answered me. I started to think something was wrong so I wanted to come see if you guys where here. Where’s Stefan?” It wasn’t unusual to see Elena without Stefan right by her side, but with all the vampire stuff surfacing he tended to try and stay close.
She sat on the sofa, propping her legs up on the table in front of her. “Uh- I think him and Damon went to go help out Bonnie. Something about her needing a grimoire.” She said, swirling around the glass of bourbon in her hands. Was she drinking this early in the day? You walked over and sat down beside her, copying her and placing your feet up on the table as you sunk into the back of the sofa.
“They found the grimoire yesterday, are you feeling okay Elena?” You slightly laughed, leaning over and placing the back of your hand on her forehead, checking for a temperature. Her eyes widened slightly, watching as you retracted your hand from her cold forehead. “Here, you’re freezing.” You said, handing over a blanket that always sat on the back of the sofa. “I’m going to go make you some hot tea.”
As you made your way into the kitchen you shook your head trying to clear your mind. You couldn’t shake the idea that something wasn’t right. After searching through cabinet after cabinet you finally found some tea bags. Chamomile should do, you thought. The metal tea kettle was placed onto the stove top, heating up the water. The buzz of your phone vibrating in your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts.
Elena: Hey, where are you? Sorry for not answering your calls, Damon, Stefan and I have been all around town today.
You felt your heart sink instantly, if Elena was out with Damon and Stefan, who the hell was in the house with you? The tea kettle began to squeal as the water reached a boil. You rushed over and removed it from the stove, dumping the water straight into the sink. You needed to get out of this house immediately.
You reached for your phone once more, trying to quickly send a message to alert your friends what was going on back at their house.
“Someone is here at the house.” Was all you got to type before you heard footsteps come up from behind you. You hit send, letting Elena know before you whipped around to be faced with Elena?
“Y/N? Are you okay?” She asked you now, walking over to you and studying your facial expressions. You took a step back, your back making contact with the cool granite counter top, trapping you between the two.
“W-who are you?” You shakily whispered, tears forming in your eyes. This didn’t feel real.
“Y/n, it’s Elena.” She reassured, holding her hands out to you as if she was cautiously trying to calm you down. You pulled out your phone, showing her the message that “she” had sent you saying she was out with Damon and Stefan. She blinked quickly, shaking her head side to side. A lump formed in your throat waiting for her to speak again. “I don’t- I don’t know who sent that. I don’t have my phone. I promise it’s me. It’s me y/n, please.” She begged. Tears fell down your face as you pulled her into a tight hug.
In the matter of seconds you were shoved up against a wall, Elena’s hand cutting off your air as she squeezed your throat. Dark veins grew beneath her eyes as she smirked, revealing sharp, white fangs. Her teeth sunk into the wrist of her free hand, keeping the other wrapped tightly around your neck. You gasped for air, struggling against her strength that was holding your feet off the ground below. Her head flew back up as her wrist dripped fresh blood onto your shirt, “Drink up.” She grinned as she shoved her bitten wrist into your mouth, forcing you to drink her blood.
Your body dropped to the floor as she released you. You coughed, gagging on the hot, coagulated blood that poured down your throat. “Well, this will be fun.” You heard her voice ring through the air once again. Looking over your shoulder you saw her spinning a knife through her fingers skillfully. She grunted as she pierced the knife straight through your back, causing you to scream out in pain. The knife sliced through you as she yanked it back out. Blood began to spill out of your open mouth as you dropped to lay on your side. She then kicked you in the stomach causing you to lay straight on your back.
“P-please stop.” You cried, pain rushing through your entire body. The last thing you remember was her driving the knife straight through your heart.
—-
A ringing in your head pushed you awake. It was pounding in your skull as your eyes peeled open. Sun poured in through the window of kitchen, burning your skin like a thousand tiny fires. You screamed in agony, practically flying across the room to a wall that was void from the direct sunlight. The dryness you felt in your mouth, along with the pounding of your head and the intense feeling of fear overwhelmed you. Your body shook as you laid down, curling into a ball against the wall. Tears wracked through you as you remembered everything that happened, all the pain that you felt when Elena stabbed you with a knife. Elena stabbed you…
“Y/n?” Through your blurry vision you made out Elena’s form.
“Get away from me!” You screamed, crying loudly as you backed further into the wall. She rushed over to you, concern written all over her face as she knelt to your level. She quickly noticed the blood stains all over your shirt, paying extra attention to the dried blood around your lips. “Leave me alone! Stop it!” You thrashed around as she reached out to touch you. Stefan ran around the corner, watching as you coward away from Elena. She listened to your cries stepping away, and turning towards Stefan, silently asking him for an explanation. Before he could speak Damon used his vampire speed and zipped to your side, pulling your disheveled body into his strong arms. He heard your cries from outside the house and he felt the biggest rush of adrenaline to get to your side immediately. “Hey, hey, I got you. Shhh.” He whispered, stroking your hair as you cried into his shoulder.
Stefan and Elena watched painfully as you were cradled in Damon’s arms. “What’s happened?” Damon softly spoke up again. In between sobs you tried to inform him why you were so terrified, “E-Elena tried to- to k-kill me.”
“Oh shit.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to the top of your head as he continued to rock you gently. He glanced back at his brother, knowing that they were thinking the exact same thing. “Katherine.” Damon said.
Damon carefully helped you stand up, insisting that he take you up to his bed where he could explain to you that Elena wasn’t the one who initiated this attack. You weakly clung to him as you hobbled towards the stairs. Passing through the living room, your skin ignited in flames again as you passed by a window. You let out another blood curdling scream, Damon swiftly picking you and placing out of the suns harmful ways. His eyes softened as he examined your face closely. That’s when Damon realized that Katherine hadn’t tried to kill you, she did kill you. You were dead, and it was all his fault. He hadn’t answered your calls or your messages asking where he was earlier in the day. By the time he made it back home, it was too late. You were a vampire.
“Come on sweetheart, let me take you to my room please.” You nodded in response as he re-scooped you into his arms, rushing you into his room where he laid you on the bed, using his vamp speed to shut all the curtains before the light caused you anymore pain. Damon made his way into a small box that he had hidden away in a drawer in his bathroom. He pulled it out, removing the lid carefully as he sifted through the jewelry inside. Being alive for a hundred plus years has caused him to come across a decent amount of antiques, including some jewelry. One of these antiques being a ring that originally belonged to his mother which he held closely to his heart. It was silver, with small engravings throughout the band. Damon had been saving it for someone special.
“Damon?” You spoke up, as you watched him intently. His crystal blue eyes made contact with yours, “I’m so hungry.” Was all you could get yourself to say, feeling your stomach twist into knots at the thought of being fed. Although, you weren’t too sure that it was food you were craving.
Of course, how could he forget? You needed blood to complete your transformation. Not that he had ever wanted you to go through this... He sighed, placing the ring down on the bathroom counter, dreading that he would have to tell you that you didn’t “almost die” but rather were unwillingly turned into a blood sucking entity like himself. He had come to terms with being a vampire, almost not being able to think about living any other way. However, he remembered how he felt back when he was freshly turned and how long it took him to accept his inevitable fate. That was something that he would have never wished upon you.
“I’ll be right back okay, stay here.” He demanded, leaving you behind and coming back with a blood bag. You sat up in his bed as he sat down besides you, handing over the bag. The smell that filled your nose was almost irresistible. It smelt like the sweetest, richest dessert, like the biggest Thanksgiving feast. Veins began to ripple under your eyes as your fangs sprouted for the first time. Hesitantly, you brought the blood bag up to your lips, sucking in the contents of the bag. You moaned at the taste as the blood trickled down your throat. In only a couple seconds you had finished off the bag, pulling it back from your lips. Then, it hit you. The burning in the sun, the intense emotions and feelings of pain, the sudden insatiable hunger…
“I’m dead.” You gasped out, dropping the empty blood bag onto the bed sheets. Damon placed his hands on either side of your face gently, turning you to look at him.
“I’m so sorry y/n… I should’ve been here to save you.”
You felt like a monster. Sure, you didn’t think that Stefan and Damon were monsters, but you didn’t know how to control yourself the way that they could. The veins began to form under your eyes again as you thought about blood.
“Katherine isn’t going to get away with this. I swear to God, she’s dead next time I see her. How dare she take away your life like this…” Damon ranted, feeling the rage that you did about your unexpected death.
A knock on Damon’s bedroom door made you both look towards it. “Damon?” It was Stefan. Damon let his brother in, Bonnie following closely behind. Bonnie was your good friend, and it took everything in you to not rush over and drink her blood. Not because you wanted to drink her blood, but because you felt so hungry and something almost caused you to do it anyways.
You focused in on your breathing to distract you from your hunger, watching as Damon passed Bonnie a ring. She took it in her hand and went and opened up a curtain, light pouring in and landing a few inches before you in bed. Bonnie began to mumble out a spell as the ring sat in the light. “Done.” She said, reopening her eyes and tossing the ring back to Damon. You could tell she was upset, she had blamed Damon for everything supernatural that was happening to her and her friends. To her, he was bad news. She couldn’t even look at you in your state, feeling as though the friend that she once knew was long gone.
After she rushed out of the room, and Stefan rushed after her, Damon came back to your side. “Here, let’s put this on.” You placed your hand in his as he held it out to you, using his other hand he gently slipped the ring onto your finger. Damon hated his mother, but he had to admit that giving his mother’s ring to you made him feel a certain type of way.
“I don’t know how to do this Damon…” You whispered, admiring the new daylight ring that you were given.
“That’s why I’m here. I left you once, I’m not doing it again. I’ll help you get through this… I love you.” The latter end of his sentence barely made it past his lips, he had never shared his feelings for you out loud. He wanted to tell you how he felt for months, but he didn’t want to scare you away. He couldn’t help but notice though that your heart would always beat a little bit faster when he would arrive, and how your face would flush when he playfully flirted with you.
“You what?” Maybe you were hearing things, although you considered it was highly impossible due to your new hearing abilities.
“I love you y/n. I have for awhile now.” He said again, this time at a normal level which proved that you hadn’t misheard the words that had fallen past his lips. Before you knew what was happening, you leaned in connecting your lips together. The way you both melted into the other was almost enough to kill you for the second time today. It was passionate, and desperate, but so gentle at the same time. As you pulled back apart you couldn’t help but smile, resting your forehead against his.
“I love you too Damon.”
“Well, isn’t this just the sweetest. Now you guys can truly spend the rest of eternity together.” Damon shot up out of bed shoving the girl you now know as Katherine into the wall behind her.
“What are you doing here? I told you to leave.” He spat out, a death grip held around her throat. You watched as she chuckled to herself, amused that she got such a rise out of him. He felt his knuckles growing white as he squeezed the life out of her body.
“Surprise!” She said hoarsely, an evil grin still etched onto her face. This all felt so eerie to you, Katherine and Elena looked completely identical. No wonder you thought that she was Elena, anyone would without some extra context. 
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Note
Tim drake triplet au owns my soul I’m not gonna lie
Have some more ✨
——
Moral and ethical crises aside, having three Robins increased the crime fighting rate exponentially. Crooks could not do even a mildly villainous scheme without being cheerfully beaten down (Lionel), robbed blind (Tim), and having their operations permanently crippled (Archy). At this point, the only reason the Rogues were still alive was because Batman insisted on handling them.
“There’s a weird ship coming into Gotham bay~!” Lionel sang, skipping into the room with an armful of papers. Alfred sedately followed behind him, with a plate full of snacks and milk. He had been passive aggressive in feeding them, muttering something about making up for lost time.
“Thanks, Alfred,” Tim mumbled, grabbing a snack. One hand was doing case work, the other (the hand that grabbed a snack) was doing homework. “Yeah, I clocked that. Some pretty interesting people on it.”
“Once again, Bruce’s old flings haunt our doorstep.” Archy crossed the room and plucked some of the papers off of Lionel.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. People are gonna come flocking to his gates with the fake baby traps again at the end of the social season.” Tim grimaced, remembering all the cheek pinches he endured last season as he headed off anyone that would approach Bruce in his Brucie persona.
“Talia al Ghul is a different kind of issue.”
“I’d take fist fighting her over Mrs. Laughfy’s pinching any day.”
“Gee, I kind of want to meet Talia. She seems kind of badass.” Lionel plopped down onto his seat, dumping the rest of the papers onto the table. “Dick hates her though. Oh, Archy, here’s all of the paperwork from that shady chemical plant.”
“Thanks.” Archy went back to the drawing board, drafting up a complicated corporate scheme that ended up with Drake industries acquiring said shady chemical plants. They were planning the reveal of the Drake triplets soon, but their method had much to be planned.
As a matter of fact…
“As expected,” Archy scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Our best bet is to pretend we were always there.”
“Gaslight, gatekeep, girl-boss!”
The triplets nodded and moved on, Archy forging their birth certificates.
Idle conversation started up again, rotating between their upcoming gaslight gatekeep girl boss masterplan, Talia’s arrival, and whether or not they should dye Jason’s hair bright purple.
“I wonder why she came? She got on the ship with a… kid.” Tim stilled, dawning horror and realization settling upon his face. “No way.”
“Oh. Oh, that’s juicy.” Lionel grinned like a bat fresh out of hell.
“We need more information.” Archy set aside his papers, an indication of intense focus from him.
The door clicked open and three heads swung in unison.
“Hey, guys, what are you…” Dick faltered as three sets of piercing blue eyes locked onto him. “Uh. Something wrong?”
Lionel dove at the door, shutting it closed and locking it.
Tim sprung up and clamped a hand onto Dick’s wrist. His smile became eerily polite. “Dick! We had a couple of questions for you!”
Dick glanced down at him, back at Lionel, and then forward at Archy’s widening grin. He shuddered.
“Am I about to die?” He wondered out loud, resigning himself to his fate as his baby-birds dragged him over to their war table.
——
“You didn’t know about me.”
“…No.”
“But we did!” Damian startled, unsheathing his sword in record time and swinging an arc of deadly blades towards the voice.
“Heya! I’m Robin!”
“I am also Robin.” Damian sidled back and looked up, weapon at the ready. Two identical Robins perched on the flickering street lamps, tilting their heads down at him.
“Hey, Damian. I’m Robin.” The one on the left waves.
“Boys,” his father sighed.
“Can it, B. I can’t believe you did the horizontal tango with Talia, of all people.”
Damian bristled. “You would not be worth the ground mother walks upon, you ingrate!”
The three robins looked at each other and simultaneously looked back at Damian. “Oh, we like you. Yes, you’re about to be our new favorite brother.”
Damian didn’t know whether to lunge at them or be flattered.
“C’mon, Wayne junior. We’ll show you around. Pick an alias, one you can use before we train you to be Robin.”
“I… I will fight you! Robin is mine by right! I am father’s blood son!”
One of the Robins perched on top of the lamp post grinned, half feral as he swung down. “We’d like to see you try, little bird.”
“Stop antagonizing him. Damian, you’ll become Robin eventually, but the only way is to get acknowledged by the former Robins. There’s so much more to becoming Robin than being good at combat like you are.”
“We’ll teach you! Robin lesson number one! Annoy B with competence!” The cheery Robin cheered.
“No.”
They ignored Batman. Damian, after checking his father’s face and not finding anything other than exhaustion, followed their example hesitantly.
“Here, take this grapple.” The serious Robin handed him a grapple and a domino mask. “Second lesson, Robins fly through the sky. We can stalk, sure, but we fly better than anyone else.”
Damian glanced at Batman again, before taking the grapple. In unison, the Robins shot up and away.
“Let’s go, Damian. We shouldn’t leave them unsupervised.”
“They are not competent enough to patrol alone?”
Father grimaced. “They are. But if we leave them be, they’ll take over Gotham in a matter of weeks.”
Damian’s respect towards the Robins went up a couple of notches. He put on the domino and grappled after the Robins.
When they find Joker goons transporting goods, the third Robin (Timothy, he found out later) turned to him and smirked.
“Third lesson? The punishment has to fit the crime. Those are stolen goods. So we rob them blind.”
“Those goods are evidence, Robin,” Father rumbled. Damian tensed, but the Robins remained relaxed.
“Okay, so we don’t touch the evidence, but everything else is fair game. Wallets, keys, lightbulbs.”
“That is incredibly petty,” Damian snapped.
“Well, B said we can’t murder them and maiming someone for stealing is too much. So, petty we must be, to refrain from going off the deep end.”
Damian considered tossing them off the roof, but these infernal fools would probably laugh and return to the roofs like cockroaches.
——
Damian watched the carnage in awe. The Robins were incredibly efficient and effective, drawing terror from their victims even before even commencing a beat down.
“I will accept their guidance,” Damian muttered to himself.
Behind him Batman lowered his head into hands in a moment of weakness. He prayed to allah and his parents for patience… and sanity.
——
“Jaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyysonnnnnnn!”
“Oh, fuck no!” Jason shot out rubber bullets without hesitation. “Fuck off, you demon!”
“But don’t you want to meet our youngest brother?”
Jason lowered his guns, glaring at Lionel’s chirpy face. “What? I’ve already met Tim.”
“Nope! Apparently, Bruce had a kid with, I shit you not, Talia al Ghul!”
Jason holstered his guns, interested in any mockery aimed at Bruce. “No way. You’re lying.”
“Nope! Meet Damian!”
Behind Lionel, Bruce’s mini-me stepped out. “Todd.”
Jason straightened and stepped closer, though noticeably giving Lionel a wide berth. He was never going to let the old man live this down. And from the looks of it, he had allies in the form of the three terrors.
——
Bruce looked down at the cake. He looked back up.
On one hand, his kids were getting along.
On the other hand… he was getting bullied by his kids.
Bruce heard a low chuckle.
Scratch that, he was being unjustly bullied by his kids and Alfred.
In front of the exhausted dad of six (and future dad of so many more), sat a cake with the words “congrats, it’s a boy!” and a picture of Talia.
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sssilverstoned · 9 months
Text
spinback season ꩜ ln4
type: instagram/twitter au
It's your birthday, Lando would never miss it.
lily said: final part of this! i've got some drafts going on full length fics so i am excited to finish those up soon. thank you all for the warm welcome :)
part 1 part 2
yoursister posted a story 28 seconds ago...
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yourusername posted a story 1 minute ago...
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yourbestfriend posted a story 4 minutes ago...
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f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in dubai:
y/n and lando in the club in dubai tonight!!!!! based on her post at a meal with a guy i thought she was with someone new, but it was 1000000% lando. they're still so in love, everything seemed so back to normal!!!! her best friend, sister, and other friends were in the section with them, it was so lovely to see!
user1 WHAT THE HELL?
user2 Oh I just know I missed a damn chapter
user3 YNLANDO TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE
user5 broke up just to be right back together...they just like us
user6: get back with your ex when the opportunity presents itself? yeah those my twins fr
user7 ok but in all seriousness, i hope everything's alright with them now
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yourbestfriend My heart outside my body is 25! So much to celebrate, so let's do it forever. To so many more y/n/n!
yourmom Pretty girls!!! Keep having all of the fun
yourusername Where would I be without you :')
yoursister not hungover, more stable financially, with much more closet space yourbestfriend fair enough across the board
user1 She's such a good friend to her
user2 lando in the likes...don't start
user3 they're childhood friends, no? she played matchmaker for them user4 this gives me hope user5 commoners talking amongst themselves booooring
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tagged: lando.jpg
yourusername Quarter of a century on this planet and a lot of joy to show for it! Grateful for the people who make me, me. Here's to getting a bit older, wiser, and lotssssss of martinis
emmachamberlain happy birthday y/n! see you soon!
user1 LANDO.JPG?
matildadjerf Mwah! The prettiest bday girl
user2 This is crazy how are they all this pretty
user3 minding your business, being a girl's girl, and loving your man user4 her man is the photo cred on this photo so you might be right
user5 "the people who make me, me" babygirl you don't even gotta name names just let us know when he takes your last name
danielricciardo Dawww they grow up so fast
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landonorris The day you were born is my favorite holiday. I love everything about you, from the way you scrunch your nose when you eat something sour, to the way you wake up extra early on saturday's to get your favorite flowers from the farmer's market. You've been there for all my best memories, my hardest times, and through it all, I'm most thankful to be loved by you, y/n. 25 looks perfect on you.
user1 so mom and dad made up? lets mf go
user2 jaw on the floor knees on the pavement eyes bugged out my head at this you two are insane especially you
yourusername Thank you for dancing with me even when I step on your nice shoes
carlossainz55 be honest he cannot dance alex_albon at all
user3: I prayed on this btw yall are welcome
user4: Okay spin back! lemme text my ex real quick
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notwhelmedyet · 7 months
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A Fire Shall Be Woken, by Ealcynn. A pair of bindings using the K118 structure, one as a gift for the author and one to keep.
Chapter page illustrations are by Alphonse Mucha, all other illustrations are hand-drawn.
I hope to make a long post later explaining the process in more depth & another to document all my mistakes, but here's the basics.
New techniques learned: Paper marbling, edge marbling, uncial calligraphy, making paste papers, drawing on bookcloth, making paste-filled cloth, fold-out maps
I began work on this project in early September and am completing the finishing touches this week.
Structures:
Binding: K118 tightback
Endpapers: Simple cloth-joined endpapers
Map fold: Turkish map fold
Materials:
Sewing supports: linen tapes
Thread: 30/3 linen thread
Spine lining: Medium weight kozo tissue bonded to linen fabric
Interior paper: Hammermill Ivory, 11x17, hand-cut to 8.5x11
Endpapers: Blick sulphite paper hand-marbled, with masked stenciled silhouettes created with freezer paper
Adhesives: Jade PVA, wheat starch paste, wheat flour paste
Covers: Davey board, laminated full thickness to half thickness
Cover fabric: Studio E shot cottons in Jungle and Emerald; filled with wheat starch paste
Cover decorations: Speedball india ink and Dr. Ph. Martin's calligraphy ink in Copperplate Gold
Inks for maps and illustrations: Speedball black india ink and a selection of watercolors thickened with gum arabic
Dip pens used for calligraphy: Combination of Brause calligraphy nibs and Leonardt tape nibs
Dip pens used for illustration: Nikko G pointed pen nib
Typesetting:
Typesetting program: Scribus 1.5.5
Body font: Coelacanth in 10 pt caption weight
Headings, titles, chapter titles, drop caps: Hand lettered uncial calligraphy, scanned
Illustrations and References:
Frames on colophon, copyright, author's notes and title page: Hand drawn, with inspiration taken from the vellucent bindings of Cedric Chivers
Frames that illustrate each chapter start: Alphonse Mucha from Cloches de Noël et de Pâques
Cover illustrations: Referenced from a photograph of an European beech tree found on iNaturalist.org
Maps of Imladris: Hand drafted with inspiration from the maps of Barbara Strachey, and Daniel Reeve
Map of Eriador: Traced from a map by Karen Wynn Fonstad, with edits made to coordinate with the geography of the fic
Frames on maps: Referenced from a drawing by Alphonse Mucha that @zhalfirin found for me
Special Thank Yous:
To the tightback council of problem-solvers in the Renegade server: Zhalfirin, Eka, @spockandawe who helped figure out many issues with the structure and technique
To the marbling experts in the Renegade server: Marissa, Aether, AGlance, Jenny, Catz, Badgertide, Rhi, and everyone else who helped me figure out beginnner marbling
To Spock for finding the K118 structure and introducing it to the server!
And to Bruce Levy, who discovered the method and shared his discoveries freely with the bookbinding and conservation world.
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nburkhardt · 7 months
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Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.
Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨
Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.
At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.
It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.
He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.
It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.
On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.
It eases his five year old mind.
His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.
Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.
At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.
The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.
Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.
His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.
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After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”
Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.
There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.
Definitely both.
“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”
Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”
It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.
The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.
He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.
Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.
Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”
Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”
“You sure about that one, Dingus?”
His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.
His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.
Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?
“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”
All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”
How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.
“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”
A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”
He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.
“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”
That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.
“Sooo”
“Look-”
Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”
Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.
They really are soulmates.
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This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)
Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)
Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings
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sweetheartsaku · 2 months
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HAIKYU!! various ; stupidthings4love
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a/n: [gn!reader] HEY POOKIES!!!!!! hopefully u enjoy, working on smt new rn!! stay tuned moas!! on skibidi this was longer in my drafts (rip kuroo who was supposed to be here)
— characters : oikawa, akaashi, atsumu
impatiens !
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tooru oikawa ; chit chat - beach weather
clings on to your arm like it's his last day on earth. he's like a damsel in distress!! obsessive gf this, obsessive bf that the o in obsessive is oikawa (I'M JOKING ILY OIKAWA POOKS)
⤷ "y/n-ie... be careful..." "hm? what is it handsome..." you utter softly, noticing his gentle tone. you feel a warm presence beside you. wrapped around your arm, was oikawa looking back at what seemed to be another group of fangirls. you giggle, and take your goodbye's with the friend you were talking to. "my fans might bite your arm off!!" "oikawa, don't be silly. the most they could do is throw me a cookie." "YEAH BUT STILL!!! its a COOKIE!!" you smiled to yourself, imagining a girl throwing a cookie at you and just landing on the floor. "i think i'll be okay." you take notice as he becomes the slightest bit more protective, dipping his hand into the palm of yours and looking back at you, chocolate eyes softened.
oikawa had just finished another game, and you'd usually wait for him to have his little small talk with his fangirls. you didn't really have a problem with it, you could trust him enough. he likes to think you know him better than he does, because you always know or can easily provide what he needs most at times! he really appreciates your trust but oftens questions if he's really doing the right thing. what if him talking to his fangirls made you think you weren't showing enough love to him? and that he valued his fangirls over you? or volleyball? or that girl that dumped him back in highschool because he was too absorbed in volleyb- "bae. are you good??" you raise an eyebrow with a smirk. "i love you." "oh-wow. okay thats sudden.
-i love you too, stupid."
strong believer of sharing literally EVERYTHING. you could be brushing your teeth and he's passed out in the tub or something. shares scarf, clothes, food, everything bro 😭💗
⤷ (timeskip!? i think hehe) finally!! a break from volleyball. who knew THE oikawa tooru would be saying that? the brunette thinks to himself. an argentinian, professional volleyball player. saying that, at his vacay in new york city, with the love of his life. but, its not time to be thinking hard right now. to get the most immaculate and full experience of NYC, was obviously booking first class plane tickets, on the dates that peaked in illuminating the refreshing season of NYC's autumn. there is no volley game in the entire world he would ever trade for this ethereal moment, walking down the streets of new york's bustling hustle, hand in hand, matching diamond rings clinking together. a warm, beige plaid scarf enveloping the both of you. "don't want us getting chilly, huh?" he says, wrapping the scarf around you both.
keiji akaashi ; the adults are talking - the strokes
always lets you win board or card games. situations where he's literally bound to win, he will NOT let you lose. he just wants to see you smile. might hide one of your letters in bananagram, grab an extra card in uno, easy bargain-er in monopoly, adding a piece back on the chess board... if he isn't akaashi ion want him 😊
⤷ it's a late night at the coffee table, akaashi has just finished his shower to sit down for a game of chess with a cup of tea. he could clearly read how slightly more excited you've been to sit down and relax with your fiancé after a long week. he found it the sweetest thing on earth, and he'd never trade it for the world. he loved to see you smile, so why not make you smile now? he thought, hiding his grin through the tension between his fingertips and his king he was about to sacrifice.
"keiji." "yes, love?" "you are very silly." you whisper and lightly giggle, moving your bishop to gently kill your fiancé's king, winning the game. an unconscious, pearly smile plays onto your lips (only he could see, despite the numerous times he's reassured her that it's quite charming).
there's truly nothing he'd want to see more than that.
strong believer of sidewalk rule. don't worry bae y/n will not die nor disappear if you take your eyes off them for like 2 seconds
⤷ his thumb gently rubs your knuckle as you walk down the bustling late night city street, lights of restaurants and streetlamps illuminate all of his features. the bridge of his nose, the dark gunmetal green of his eyes, and the apple of his cheekbones. every single feature that shaped the beautiful boy who had put the ring on your finger. tying your laces, putting your jewellery on, and keeping up with the infamous sidewalk rule. little habits he's built since high school, not because he is expected to do so, but because it all comes naturally when it comes to you.
till suddenly, you feel a squeeze on your warm hand, signalling the usual. the switch of places on the concrete. you instinctually react, akaashi discreetly walking on the side near the moving cars. the little things that aren't so little for you, but the little sparks that keep the warmness in your heart kindled.
atsumu miya ; boyfriend (with social house) - ariana grande, social house
always steals your flippin' last bite. it's so annoying, he knows it, and likes it. while you're not looking, he WILL the last bite of your food or a sip of your favourite drink.
⤷ after a long day at work for you, and a long day of training for atsumu, you both comfortably sit in silence at onigiri miya. the faint noises of clutter and cleaning fill the silence, along with boyfriend by ariana grande and social house, playing over the speaker softly. onigiri miya's open sign had just turned around, and the warm light of the hanging sign outside flickers off. osamu effortlessly places the tray of warm onigiri in front of you two, and a shared smile laces upon your faces.
"thank you!!" you and atsumu chirp in unison, osamu acknowledges your gratitude, and discreetly smiles to himself as he prepares to clean up the kitchen. you both each take one onigiri, automatically knowing who prefers which type of onigiri (atsumu's is the cold tuna, yours can be what you prefer ♡ mine is tuna as well hehe). digging in, suddenly there was only one bite of yours left. mouth still full, you suddenly can't remember if you kept the receipt of your failed custom mug you had purchased the other day. it makes you wonder, then your curiosity takes over you before you could take the last bite of your onigiri! you glace and search into your bag, hand still holding a chunk of onigiri. you sigh of relief, noticing you had kept your receipt! but... something is missing.
your last bite of onigiri.
but, in his so called 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 he will let you have the first bite of his favourite food.
⤷ "aYE! 'tsumu!" you playfully hit his shoulder, as he has an absolute giggle attack. to him, it's like there was genuine fury and fire coming out of your eyes and he found it the most hilarious thing ever LMAO. (but for me personally, i wouldn't take that.) "i wilL ACTUALLY DELETE YOUR FIFA ACCOUNT IF YOU KEEP THIS UP." "oKAYOKAYOKAY!!! i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry pf-" he says as he is STILL having his giggle fit. obviously, the correct reaction is to look away and cross your arms. you do exactly that, and he realises what he's done (caused the next war). he suddenly gets a little touchier, and says "dear y/n-ieee... i promise to give you the first bite of the next food we eat, m'kayyy? from the pure, and innocent kindness of my heart!" he chimes. interrupted by a genuine, heartfelt shout of,
"oh shut yer' trap!"
"SAMU!"
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