#porcelain painter

[galoogamelady]

I found this pair of Hollóházi porcelain deers online that I can't afford so I made them in 3D instead. This was a modeling/rigging/texturing exercise Cam helped me with. (Here's a different listing where his antlers are intact)

[galleryofart]

The Porcelain Collector

Artist: Alfred Stevens (Belgian, 1823-1906)

Date: 1868

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, NC, United States

[portrait-paintings]

The Artist in His Studio

Artist: James McNeill Whistler (American, 1834–1903)

Date: c. 1865–1866

Medium: Oil on board mounted on wood panel

Collection: Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago, IL, United States

Description

By the mid-1860s, the London-based, American artist James McNeill Whistler was increasingly fascinated with the aesthetics of Asian art. In The Artist in His Studio, Whistler stares out at the viewer with palette and paintbrush in hand, surrounded by works from his collection: three Japanese scrolls hang on the wall and Chinese porcelain adorns shelves on the left. He applied thin layers of paint in muted tones to evoke the flattened appearance of Japanese woodblock prints. The composition also recalls the work of the Spanish Baroque master, Diego Velázquez. Whistler harmonized Western and Eastern artistic elements, placing himself at the center of such an enterprise.

[tseecka]

OC headcanon:

When Alastair and Azriel met, Alastair had long gorgeous hair á la Tennant in Richard II.

When Alastair was conscripted/drafted he had to have it cropped off

Aggie mourned that hair for months and kept a lock of it that Alastair gave to him

He still has it 🥲

[i12bent]

John Olsen (May 25, 1938 - 2019) was a Danish artist who trained first af the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain factory and then at the Academy. He worked with the natural world - first with bronze figurines of birds, and later with cabinets juxtaposing found natural objects and rarities - a take on the old idea of a cabinet of curiosities.

He also did works on paper, for instance a series of drawings made in his sauna, where the heat and humidity put its stamp on the works - as did the artist's sweat!

Above: Sweat Drawing, 2006 - mixed media, incl. coal, oil pastels, water color and sweat on paper (SMK)

[artistic-squad]

Our new product at Artstation: megapack of 100 Porcelain and Ceramic Materials for Substance Painter, in many colors and finishes, prepared for drag and drop on your model. https://www.artstation.com/a/44523400

Our other stores: http://www.artisticsquad.com

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Meissen, Germany, porcelain figure. Overglaze. A boy in fine clothes. ebay i.sell.my.art.collection

[blueiscoool]

900 Artifacts From Ming Dynasty Shipwrecks Found in South China Sea

The trove of objects—including pottery, porcelain, shells and coins—was found roughly a mile below the surface.

Underwater archaeologists in China have recovered more than 900 artifacts from two merchant vessels that sank to the bottom of the South China Sea during the Ming dynasty.

The ships are located roughly a mile below the surface some 93 miles southeast of the island of Hainan, reports the South China Morning Post’s Kamun Lai. They are situated about 14 miles apart from one another.

During three phases over the past year, researchers hauled up 890 objects from the first vessel, including copper coins, pottery and porcelain, according to a statement from China’s National Cultural Heritage Administration (NCHA). That’s just a small fraction of the more than 10,000 items found at the site. Archaeologists suspect the vessel was transporting porcelain from Jingdezhen, China, when it sank.

The team recovered 38 items from the second ship, including shells, deer antlers, porcelain, pottery and ebony logs that likely originated from somewhere in the Indian Ocean.

Archaeologists think the ships operated during different parts of the Ming dynasty, which lasted from 1368 to 1644.

Many of the artifacts came from the Zhengde period of the Ming dynasty, which spanned 1505 to 1521. But others may be older, dating back to the time of Emperor Hongzhi, who reigned from 1487 to 1505, as Chris Oberholtz reported last year.

Archaeologists used manned and unmanned submersibles to collect the artifacts and gather sediment samples from the sea floor. They also documented the wreck sites with high-definition underwater cameras and a 3D laser scanner.

The project was a collaboration between the National Center for Archaeology, the Chinese Academy of Science and a museum in Hainan.

“The discovery provides evidence that Chinese ancestors developed, utilized and traveled to and from the South China Sea, with the two shipwrecks serving as important witnesses to trade and cultural exchanges along the ancient Maritime Silk Road,” says Guan Qiang, deputy head of the NCHA, in the agency’s statement.

During the Ming dynasty, China’s population doubled, and the country formed vital cultural ties with the West. Ming porcelain, with its classic blue and white color scheme, became an especially popular export. China also exported silk and imported new foods, including peanuts and sweet potatoes.

The period had its own distinctive artistic aesthetic. As the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Asian Art writes, “Palace painters excelled in religious themes, moralizing narrative subjects, auspicious bird-and-flower motifs and large-scale landscape compositions.”

The shipwreck treasures aren’t the only recent discoveries in the South China Sea, according to CBS News’ Stephen Smith. Just last month, officials announced the discovery of a World War II-era American Navy submarine off the Philippine island of Luzon.

By Sarah Kuta.

[artmagicly]

The Porcelain Painter by Airi Pan

[witchpassing]

Maria's Garden

It’s not right, what they’re doing; cold fingers drifting along her knuckles, long walks in a graveyard full of flowers. A face that’s hers and not-hers - the painter’s hand was generous, but no love could heat the pallor from these cheeks, soothe the shadow of these eyes. Like a cousin, like a twin-

She’s a quiet thing, the woman from the portrait. She holds her body in that delicate, shying way Maria could never quite catch, and indeed resigned the pursuit of somewhere around seventeen; in every gesture, every contour, there lingers the craftsman’s eye. Fingerprints line her shawl, hem the skirts that whisper against Maria’s hip in her passing.

Maria asked her to curtsey, once - drunk, soaking herself in the old man’s gin - and she did it perfectly. Perfectly. Like a diagram in an etiquette book. A sick, hot feeling in her stomach, and a resolution never to ask again.

She’d be a fine wife, for some nice man; a well-trained mother, for the same. Petticoats and pretty shawls, stockings and stays and ribbons and lace, every little softness in just Maria’s size - did he think of her, while he dressed his puppet in them? Did he think of her, while he–

She wears perfume, this white Maria. Pressed flowers, and a breath of dawn. The old man chose that too, and if she wasn’t a suicide already, she’d make herself one for liking it. 

The doll has joined her, again, for a walk around the gardens, and Maria is thinking, again, about murdering her. It would be easy, the work of a few minutes, to seize this self-abusing dream by the hair, to drag it to the nearest tombstone, to strike porcelain against granite until the glass eyes roll and bounce among the cobblestones - one last grave out in the meadow, the clothes all burnt, every trace of the old man’s sickness excised from the memory of this ab-world -- Maria the only carrier, and really, what’s another secret, on the midden of what she knows? 

Her memories of Gehrman are rotting, rotting, every moment shared together turning inside-out to bare a soft and mildewed heart, and nothing she can do now will give her teacher back to her - but it’s not that which stops her, as her fingers close and knot in pearl-grey hair, as the bonnet slips loose and the gentle voice falls quiet - 

No, what stops Maria dead, staring into the unreproaching eyes of her twin, is the understanding, sudden and cold as icewater, that she’d let her do it. 

She keeps apart from her a while, after that; doesn’t trust herself within arm’s reach. In Maria’s avoidance of her, the doll seems even more a ghost, a silent, peripheral figure, a presence always one room over. Her weapons, left unattended in the workshop, are cleaned, oiled, and returned; now and then, fresh tea finds its way onto the table by the fire.

Maria doesn’t especially care for tea, but she swallows every drop. 

And little by little, inadvisably, she allows herself back into the doll’s company. It feels like edging up against a precipice, like playing chicken against her own horror. She’ll do something terrible, she knows it; she can’t be unsupervised around a woman like this. A woman who’d let her. She ought to leave, ought to run to the other end of the Nightmare and never think of this place again.

But the doppelganger is so pretty, and she treats her with such gentleness, and it’s been so long since she was anything but alone. 

It happens suddenly, in the end. The doll asks to be taught to dance, and Maria - poor, priggish Maria - never suspects the trick. It’s a last resort, drawing her in like this; every silent invitation, every little courtship, every please sketched in the margins of good etiquette - all have been tried, and all have shattered like the tide upon the rock of Maria’s heroic conviction that she’s the only woman in the world who wants things.

Well, no matter. A doll’s heart has a pulse of its own, whether anyone hears it or not. If Maria won’t take, she can be taken.

Jointed fingers curl beneath her chin. A cold breath upon her face. The moon-scent, heady, dizzying.

I shouldn’t- we can’t–

Oh, hunter. Do be quiet.

A fine wife, indeed. What a silly thing you are, Maria Cainhurst.

[heritagebrowser]

The Grande Singerie of the Château de Chantilly, a boudoir originally intended to house the porcelain of the Duke of Bourbon, offers a decor characteristic of the rocaille style mixing antics and Chinoiserie treated in a fanciful or allegorical way. It owes its name to the fact that the scenes represent monkeys serving men and vice versa.

These paintings on paneling, attributed to Christophe Huet (1700-1759), present an exceptional example of the taste quite common in the 18th century for Chinese oriental exoticism.

In 1710 the Château de Chantilly returned to Louis-Henri Bourbon-Condé (1692-1740), Duke of Bourbon who continued the development undertaken by his grandfather, the great Condé. The decor of the small castle was thus remodeled in 1737, the date of the execution of the Grande Singerie which is attributed to Christophe Huet, a renowned painter of paintings of animals and birds. But for a long time we hesitated about the author (Watteau, Claude Gillot, Audran?) because the archives do not reveal any payment made by the duke for the decor of the two antics: the Grande Singerie is one of the large apartments on the first floor while the Petite Singerie is located on the ground floor. However, recent restorations have revealed the date of execution of the boudoir: the inscription “1737” is painted on the block of marble that the monkey sculptor models. This is how we were able to eliminate the long-suspected authors: Watteau, who died in 1721, Claude Gillot, who died in 1722 and Claude Audran, who died in 1734. From then on, the decorations of the Singeries were attributed to Christophe Huet who, moreover, worked for the Condé family in 1734-1735. The workmanship and style of two other decorations still visible and created by Huet made it possible to make these connections: the Cabinet des Singes of the Hôtel de Rohan (today National Archives in Paris) in 1749-1752 and the Chinese Salon of Château de Champs-sur-Marne before 1755.

Huet was a student of Gillot and we know that he collaborated with Audran for the Château d'Anet in 1733. His style is borrowed from those of Berain, Audran and Watteau and Boucher. He had two collaborators: Dutour for the animals and Crépin for the landscapes.

[bunicate]

i neeeeedddd more wrio <///3 i don’t wanna wait so so long for him to come out <///3 and i wanna read more filthy filthy smuts and suuuper long angsty smutty fics :((( i need him in a way that would get me lobotomized in the 1900’s </3

dnt u hate how genshin is just stringing us along and taking 4ever to give us more wrio stuff ! ! I want him in a very gross way nd I dunno if this little fic is at all filthy, but i wrote smthn while I was having my breakfast earlier ^_^ I also probably misspelled his name so many times bc my grammar check wasn’t working nd i got lazy ! but just know nonnie, ur icky thoughts are welcomed here !

pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ he calls you little girl once ! ! + slight exhibitionism + finger sucking + size kink + blowjob mention / wc ꒱ 1.3k / 18+

you’d like to say that you were good at being discreet. it’s not that you’re intentionally trying to be, but when faced with several trials and tribulations, you believed the gods themselves were testing you.

after all this time, you thought you were inured to wriothesley’s effortless charm. it bothers you that he doesn’t even try— that your boyfriend with broad shoulders, a big chest, and big hands could stand there, and you were already thinking of all the sloppy, messy ways you could end your night.

you spend far too much time staring at veiny thick fingers that dwarf your tinier ones. especially when he holds your pink phone, hello kitty, and heart-shaped charms and all, and his big thumbs end up pressing a button he never meant to. how such a simple and mindless mistake makes you wonder about putting his big fingers somewhere else.

It was a newfound desperation you didn’t know you had in you and it just didn’t stop there. it’s the casual dominance in his behavior that makes butterflies erupt, fluttering their delicate wings in your belly.

when the brown sugar you needed to make a fresh batch of cookies rested on the tippiest top of the shelf you were irked to say the least.

it sat there mocking you because it knows you can’t reach it, and it’s none other than wrio himself who barely extends his hand above his head that brings it down with ease.

and then you see it.

it’s only a slither of skin, only a thick patch of untamed hair leading to his groin.

that’s all it is and that’s all you saw and yet you feel . . . bothered

“i didn’t need your help,” you mutter while pouring the contents into a pink porcelain bowl, careful not to make a mess.

you got snappy because of all things, it’s his height and taut stomach that make you flustered. you cut your eyes and upturn your nose busying yourself with the mixing and measuring, but wriothesley is no fool. your attempt to appear unfazed — not aroused was meaningless. he didn’t bother to question the veracity of you words when the soft cotton flush of embarrassment coats your cheeks like a paintbrush and he was the painter.

he excites you.

you know it and he knows it.

“sure you don’t.”

he’s smug and you don’t like it. you hate it, even. why is he always quick and sharp-tongued, and so astute?

it was one of your earlier dates together. things were still new and you wanted to make a bit more effort and maybe you went slightly overboard. you cursed yourself for wearing heels that day. they were a tad bit too high— but they were pink, and glittery, and a butterfly charm dangled by the strap of your ankle.

you couldn’t not wear them, your outfit depended on them. they just had the unfortunate luck of succumbing to the little pebble that laid in the middle of the sidewalk.

before you could even register your heart-dropping, warm, big, bulging arms enclose your waist, keeping you from colliding with the ground. when you instinctively reach out to grip them you felt the muscle beneath your fingers. you were sure your silk panties were ruined .

and to your dismay, the twitch of your legs trying to smother that burning heat between your thighs didn’t go unnoticed.

so observant wriothesley is, and you hate how easily he could read you, but the desire was mutual.

he constantly had to fight every signal in his body that yearned for you — that yearned to separate those plump thighs and perfectly ruin, and stretch that seeping little hole with his fingers. the thought plagues his mind the entire time.

you both go out for another outing and it was just meant to be an innocent dinner, but god — would you stop looking at him like that?

just stop pouting, stop doing that little furrow with your eyebrows, and stop putting on that sparkly lipgloss.

it’s moments like this where he’s thankful for his status. he’s quiet, and big enough to deter people from peering over his shoulder. a booth far away enough in a corner, makes it easier for the duke to get away with acting out in public— stuffing your mouth with his fingers.

even when sitting he towers over you. the dip of your clavicle kisses by the ends of your hair. so put together even in the process of ruin.

two of his wriothesley’s daft and ring-clad fingers stroke your tongue, spit coating the appendages. he could’ve busied them separating your puffy lower lips, but why would he when he can make you gag instead?

soft moans escape in the form of gurgled cries, you suck his fingers like a lollipop that was just too big for your tiny mouth. he’s rubs the insides of the orifice as if it were your pussy, with expert strokes that send your eyes reeling backward.

you pucker around them, lips tight, and you just croon like a good puppy.

“you like it when I stretch your little mouth? yeah, you do.” as if the arch in your back and the clench of your legs weren’t enough it would be your eyes blinking up at him submissively.

“you can open up a little wider— just like that, baby.”

and he’s knuckle deep by now and maybe he should stop, and not encourage you to be so obscene but he wasn’t thinking straight. it’s been a long enough week, [its tuesday ] but wriothesley works hard and some trouble once in a while can’t be that bad. neuvillette shouldn’t mind. he’s sure if he could see you now he’d be at your mercy. drooling around his rings, tits pushed up and makeup smeared— could anyone actually resist you?

“that’s my good girl, perfect little throat.” and he can’t wait to fuck it. If your mouth looked so delicate stretched around his burly fingers, what would it look like around his much bigger cock. that excites him — to think about the tip of his length poking the side of your cheek and thickening in the expanse of your throat. to be gifted with your drunken expression because he’s just too big and your brain can’t compute.

“you can pretend it doesn’t bother you, but I know you like when it when I get rough with little girls like you,” he drawls, in a deep and husky tone, low enough to fall on your ears alone.

there’s a fire that it ignites within and he controls the flame. you want to tell him no, to defy him, but it would be so unconvincing. you’re nearly falling apart, bursting at the seams with wanton hunger and thirst and it’s written all over your face.

it gives wriothesley a rush the more he fixates on your mouth. he talks big, knowing you're teetering on the edge of a mind break. he whispers how filthy you are for letting him fuck your mouth with his fingers. he teases you breathlessly that spit looks better on your lips then the lipgloss and that you can’t seem to stop re-applying.

things were fairly new, only soft gropes, intense kisses, and humping between leather and lacy frills were exchanged . this was the most erotic he’s seen you as of yet and its the closest you both have ever been. it made him eager for so much more.

“ you like how big I am thats why you’re letting me stuff your mouth."

and he dreams bout filling it some more— to the brink with his milky white, breeding your throat like it was your cunt until rivulets spill from the sides. Its right then and there that he wishes for no one else to be in the room so he can finally have you . he’s broken you down, and all you can do is listen.

"when i take you home, you'll be a sweet girl for me, right? no back talk and no more attitude ?”

you nod and even with a mouthful, you obediently open to speak.

“y-yes sir.”

such dangerous words.

[galleryofart]

An English Family at Tea

Artist: Joseph Van Aken (Flemish, c.1699–1749)

Date: c. 1720

Medium: Oil paint on canvas

Collection: TATE Britain

Description

In the 18th century, tea was an expensive commodity, as were the items shown here related to its consumption: the tea table, silver and porcelain. A bitter drink, it was sweetened with sugar, produced in the British colonies in the Caribbean with the labour of enslaved African people. The caddy (tea box) is shown in the foreground. Its contents were normally kept locked by the lady of the household, who is shown dispensing the precious leaves. Tea drinking demonstrated wealth, domesticity and genteel informality. In the 18th century, it came to epitomise civilised behaviour for white Europeans.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiyya! I had a request of g!p Donna x reader but it’s their first time and it’s very gentle and sweet , I’m a sucker for fluff and smut 🥹 or Donna being very soft and needy, I dig I dig

Yess!!! Here it is!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes!! :)))

Spend the night

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, explicit smut, fluff, insecurities... Minors DNI

Word count: 5,534

Summary: You've decided that you don't want to be just a guest anymore...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Donna requests are open!! I love you all :)))) Thanks for reading!!

“And then I told him: If you don't like the portrait, paint it yourself. Surely that nose of yours serves as a brush,” you said, amused.

Donna laughed sheepishly, as usual, shaking her head.

“Is this how you deal with your clients?” She asked with a low voice, always subtle, but with a smile adorning her face.

“Well, yes. At least with those who don't want to pay me,” you stated, playing with the fork.

“You didn't deal with me like that when I went to your study,” the lady in black sighed, taking a sip from her wine glass.

You sighed in amusement, raising your eyebrows.

Your job as a portrait painter didn’t prosper very well in that dark village, but at least it made you earn some money. Thanks to that peculiar job, you met Donna Beneviento. One of the village lords at the service of Mother Miranda herself. Donna was a shy woman, who hid her face behind a black cloth. Apparently, she had run out of the paint she used to decorate those strange porcelain dolls she made.

Donna returned days later, using that same excuse. You knew that it was nothing but an excuse since the Duke confirmed to you that he continued bringing her all those materials. Something had caught her attention about you, and of course, you couldn't help her from catching your attention too.

Donna was a complicated woman, with problems that had no solution. But at the same time, she was kind, shy and very far from what the villagers thought of her. At least she wasn’t that way with you.

The relationship grew naturally. You didn't know exactly why. She didn't usually talk directly to you. The Angie doll always was the speaker of your conversations.

Little by little, that absurd shyness faded until, after she revealed her face to you and you could contemplate her true beauty, you began to have a much more special relationship. The shy kisses and date nights didn't take long to come.

The lady never said that she was your girlfriend or anything like that, but you liked to think that way. As the months passed, you realized that you really were, and you wanted to be her girlfriend.

“Oh, Donna... This is...” you said licking your lips, enjoying, like every time you had dinner together, her amazing talent for cooking. “It's so good that I want to die.”

“Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N)” the lady in black said, with a slightly more serious look.

It's true that you had to be very careful with the things you said. Her mind was damaged, in part due to traumas from her past. Many times you forgot that there were topics that could cause small crises and could cause Donna to lose control. Death was one of those topics.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry,” you said apologetically, lowering your head. “I didn't mean it literally, you know, it's a way of speaking. What I want to say is that I love the way you cook.”

“I... Thank you,” she responded, blushing at the compliment. How could a dangerous woman in Miranda's service blush over something like that? She would never cease to amaze you.

“Scare!” A squeaky voice screeched too close to you, scaring you, making you spill some wine on your new dress, a dress you had bought especially for that romantic dinner.

“Shit! Angie!” You yelled trying to remove the stain from the white fabric.

The doll fled the place laughing childishly, taking refuge behind the living room desk.

“Angie... Please...” Donna whispered, standing up embarrassed, approaching you.

You got up too, ready to revenge, pretending to strangle Angie with your bare hands.

“Come here! Show your face! You little…” You said with anger, but also with a smile. You were more than used to the doll ruining all your dates.

“(Y/N)” Donna interrupted you, placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I'll pay for the dress.”

“What? Oh, come on, no. Don’t worry about it,” you said, brushing it off, gently grabbing her hand on your shoulder, turning to look at her.

Her face relaxed immediately as you got closer to her, taking that opportunity to kiss her softly on the lips, to steal one of those kisses that made you thank fate for having met her.

Unlike the other times you kissed, this time you were much more reluctant to pull away, discovering a part of yourself that you thought would never appear: desire.

Donna withdrew shortly after, smiling tenderly and running a hand over your cheek, with a softness so burning that you thought at any moment the flames would burn your skin.

“Gross!” The doll protested, approaching you timidly. You rolled your eyes and glared at her, causing the puppet to change her path so as not to walk near to you.

“Angie, please. Behave,” Donna demanded, with a tone that betrayed shame and apology, while her hands joined yours and lowered, hanging harmoniously between your bodies.

“Don’t worry, Donna,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Also, I think this color suits the dress well.”

She laughed, kissing you quickly on the cheek and letting your hands go, heading to the table.

“I promise I'll turn her off next time,” she commented as she picked up the dishes. “I'm going... I'm going to pick this up.”

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked politely.

The lady in black shook her head, giving you another of her amazing smiles.

“No, tesoro. You are my guest,” she said affectionately, walking towards the elevator.

“Guest... Great...” You whispered, looking at the wooden floor, unable to help but feel a certain disappointment. It had been a long time. You didn't want to be a guest anymore.

“Silly, silly (Y/N). You're so clumsy, you've put the vine all over your dress,” Angie hummed when you were alone, which made you clench your fists tightly, approaching the puppet in a threatening manner.

“Yes, yes... Laugh while you can, you little devil. Have you heard Donna? Next time she will deactivate you,” you said in her dark voice, causing another of Angie’s loud, mocking laughs.

“You don't scare me,” the doll mocked her.

“Yet...” you said, putting on the most dangerous look you were capable of.

“Stupid, stupid guest,” Angie repeated, dancing happily around you. “Do you want some advice?”

“No,” you said seriously, with a firm tone, looking towards the elevator, waiting for Donna to come back.

“If you want Donna to move, you have to do it yourself. She never will,” the doll said, with a tone that resembled of a confidant friend.

“What? What are you talking about?” You asked, interested in that statement.

“It's just a comment,” she said indifferently, walking away from you when the noise of the elevator doors broke the tension of the moment.

“Do you want me to accompany you home, my love?” Donna asked, approaching you again, holding your hand lovingly.

“To home?”

You could fool yourself and think that leaving was a good idea, but that tender kiss earlier made you think about the things that still needed to be done, about the desire to really love her, even if it embarrassed you.

Donna nodded with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, sending a strange shiver through your body.

“Um, well, I... I, I'd like to stay a bit longer if you don't mind. It looks like it's going to rain,” you said shyly.

Donna frowned and tilted her head curiously, looking towards one of the windows and approaching it.

“Rain? I don't think so, honey, it's a splendid night,” she commented, studying the starry sky.

You clenched your fists, not being able to send a hint clear enough for Donna to get it. You knew it was going to be complicated, but you didn't expect it to be so complicated. Maybe it would be a good idea to go home... But on the other hand, you didn't want to do it.

“Now it seems that way and when you least expect it, boom! The storm of the century hits and I end up soaked from head to toe. And it's very likely that I would catch a cold, my body is weak,” you said in a nervous tone, your voice breaking because of the shame you felt for insisting so pathetically.

The lady in black looked at you curiously, as if something inside her mind was screaming for her to react. Donna was still too shy, and too naive. She wasn't used to the pathetic advances of ordinary people.

“You'll agree with me when I have a horrible fever and can't come here to see you,” you said, feigning real concern.

“Oh, okay, I...” Donna said, approaching you again, searching for something in your eyes that she didn't seem to understand. “Wait a moment. I'm going to call the Duke to take you home then.”

“Oh, God,” you sighed when she walked away again, feeling an unbearable helplessness.

“Donna!” Angie screamed, hanging up the phone when the woman picked it up. “Are you blind?”

“What? Angie, stop that,” the lady in black protested. “You're starting to wear out my patience tonight.”

“And you are starting to wear out hers,” the doll responded, crossing her arms after pointing at you.

You opened your eyes and an evil smile spread across your face.

“What? Why you say so?” The doll maker asked, looking at you with fear.

“Silly Donna, silly Donna. (Y/N) wants to spend the night with you. Silly.”

The woman stepped away from the phone, timidly playing with her hands.

“(Y/N)... Is that true? Would you... Would you like...?”

“Um, yes, I would like to,” you said, taking advantage of the unique opportunity that Angie gave you.

“Oh, okay... Okay... Well...” she said, looking away, getting closer little by little, looking for a place to look that wasn't your eyes. “I, I guess that's... Fine.”

“If it's uncomfortable for you, I'll leave,” you said, unsure of her reaction.

“No, no, wait, wait,” Donna interrupted, grabbing your hand as you made a gesture to leave. “I… Well, I would like you to stay.”

“Really?” You asked, not bothering to hide the joy her words provoked, cupping her face in your hands.

She nodded before your lips brushed against hers again, sealing an important deal.

“Okay...” the lady sighed, moving away from your increasingly hot kisses.

“Can you show me your bedroom?” You asked, perhaps with a too seductive tone. You knew that you couldn't be direct with her. You didn't want to be either.

“Oh, of course... I... Well if you're going to sleep with me you'll have to go down and... Of course, of course. You want to know where it is and it makes sense and...” Donna stammered, nervous as you had never seen her before, apart from her involuntary crisis, of course.

You decided to silence her as you knew best, with another of your tender, deep kisses, grabbing her waist and bringing her body closer to yours, demonstrating with your actions that everything was fine, that there was no reason to worry.

“Donna,” you said in a whisper, resting your forehead on hers. “Listen to me.”

She nodded softly, unable to hide the fear on her face.

“I just want to sleep with you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I have no ulterior motives. We won't do anything you don't want to.”

“Oh, well I... It's okay...” The lady in black murmured, sighing in relief.

After a quick kiss, you let yourself be guided to the unknown part underneath the house, a strange and claustrophobic basement. Through several corridors, you arrived at your destination.

“Wow... There are no windows here,” you said, looking at the curious bedroom. It was a dark place for a dark woman. Appropriate.

“I'm sorry. My parents built the house like this,” she apologized, sitting on the bed with trembling hands.

“I didn't mean that I think it's wrong, I'm just looking,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. You joined the woman, sitting next to her.

There was a moment of tense silence, as if neither of you really knew what exactly you were doing there. Donna cleared her throat, shifting nervously in her place.

“(Y/N)” she said with a low voice, almost inaudible.

“Mm?” You murmured, in the middle of your scan of the area.

“I... I want to do it,” she said, grabbing the sheets tightly, pulling them so hard that it seemed like they were going to tear.

“To do what? Oh,” you said, instantly embarrassed. You weren't really thinking about that, you just wanted to move further in the relationship. You couldn't deny that it crossed your mind, but you didn't think she wanted it as much as you. Did she?

“But... But I'm afraid,” she whispered timidly. “I… I… I’ve never…”

“Hey, Donna…” you said, grabbing her hand so she would stop ruining the sheets. “Calm down. I feel the same.”

“You? Have you ever...?”  She asked curiously, suddenly looking at you.

“Well, I really haven’t... You know what? It doesn’t matter,” you said, avoiding acknowledging a truth that embarrassed you. “What… What really matters is that I would like to share that moment with you, but I don't want to force you to do so.”

Donna smiled, shaking her head. You couldn't know what she was thinking, but you knew that she was terribly nervous.

“I just... I just know that... that I love you,” you said, being the first time you verbalized your feelings towards the woman in black. “And I want to live everything with you, I want to truly love you, share my entire life with you.”

“You... You... Do you love me?” She asked, with a wide smile on her face, with a look of genuine excitement.

“Yes,” you said dryly, accompanying her smile.

After a nervous gasp, she launched herself at your lips, kissing you messily, excited by that statement.

“I, I love you too,” Donna said, with a tear sliding down her cheek. The level her emotions reached was surprising. You wondered if she had ever had anyone who said those three words to her. The most logical response made you feel an overwhelming sadness.

“Donna...” you sighed when her caresses returned to your face, while you brushed that annoying tear away from hers, getting lost in her gaze.

Immediately and without warning, she moved away from you, as if something had scared her.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You asked, worried about that sudden action.

“There... There is something you don't know about me,” she told you, looking away, with her hands trembling in yours. “I... Well, since... You know... Miranda adopted me... I... Well, no, I haven't been the same... I...”

You interrupted her by putting a finger on her lips, understanding what she wanted to tell you.

“Shh, don't say anything else, honey. I already know it,” you said amused, moving her hands away so she wouldn't squeeze them too hard.

“What? Do you know about..?” She asked startled, breaking free from your hold. You nodded with a dangerous look.

“Do you remember our date at the river? The picnic?”

Donna nodded, blinking repeatedly.

“That day you were quite excited,” You joked, running a hand up her leg. “It seemed like my kisses made you very, very happy… I could feel it. Literally,” you whispered in her ear, making her nervousness increase.

“Oh, well... I'm sorry,” she said shyly, but with a mischievous smile discreetly appearing on her face.

“Don’t be. Everything's fine. I love you just the way you are, Donna… And I still want to take that step with you, if you agree, of course.”

The woman in black nodded just before your kisses caught her again. She responded by deepening hers as well, abandoning the play of her hands to travel directly to your cheek, caressing it gently, keeping your head next to hers, so that your kisses wouldn't dare to stop.

Silence became the main element in that room. There were no more insecurities nor stupid questions or statements, just your kisses traveling, tasting your lips.

You stood apart for a moment, staring at each other, as if trying to communicate without words. With an anxious sigh, you resumed your feat, kissing every spot on her face as you climbed on top of her, your legs on either side of her hips.

Her hands, normally shy and chaste, ran over your back, pushing you closer to her body, traveling down your hips, caressing you as if you were made of porcelain, as if the slightest touch would break you into a thousand pieces.

You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of being treated this way, like the delicate and precious object you were to her. Your hands rested on her chest, brushing the black fabric of her dress while your mouth continued down her neck, causing a shy gasp and an incipient tension in her body.

“I... I would like…” Donna said, silent, elegant, shy. “I want… I want to look at you. You know, without… Without clothes.”

You opened your eyes and smiled. You didn't know anyone who would be kind enough to ask such a thing, to ask permission even if she knew she didn't need to do it.

“Fine,” you said, giving her one last kiss while her gaze was lost on your body.

Caressing her chest as you stood up, you brought your free hand to the restraints of your wine-ruined dress. The night breeze was present in that closed place. There was no chance the cold air from outside had gotten in there, you figured it was due to nerves. You had never gotten naked in front of someone and although your shyness paled in comparison to Donna's, you couldn't help but feel insecure.

The fabric fell to the floor and you had to fight not to grab it at the last moment and cover yourself. Even though you were afraid to look at Donna, to know what expression her face had, you did. Her smile was delirious, as if she were in a dream. The tension once again led to a rough grip on the sheets, while she tried to say something at the sight of your half-naked body.

“(Y/N)... I have never seen anything as beautiful as you in my entire life,” she sighed, reaching out to grab your wrist and pull you gently, bringing your trembling body closer to her “Your body… Your beauty is so… You are a miracle,” she said before running her fingers over your chest, looking at you from below, not wanting to lose even the slightest detail of what she was seeing.

“You are going to make me blush...” you joked, reassured by the soft touch on your wrist, by the hand that ran up and down your body.

“I'm just saying what I think...” Donna whispered in a sensual way, releasing your wrist and grabbing your body with both hands, pulling it until her lips made contact with the lower part of your chest, planting shy kisses on your skin, raising and lowering her hands so not an inch of your body was left without being worshiped by her.

You gasped at the pleasure of her touch, following your impulse to get back on top of her, climbing up her body as she looked for a way to continue her actions.

The kisses returned to your lips, this time with an incipient need growing between you, with a desire that made you deepen them more and more, feeling like you could almost melt.

“Can I…?” She asked. You didn't understand what she meant until you came to your senses. Those deep kisses had made you forget where you were, or what indecent feats her hands were carrying out. You noticed them right at the closure of your bra, waiting for your response.

“Of course you can...” You whispered in her ear, making something like a moan leave her lips when with a click, the garment released what it contained.

With an elegance that only Donna could have, your bra was removed from your body. Her delicate fingers played with the surroundings of your breasts, not wanting to run, repressing the desire they had to caress them, to feel them...

With a moan, caused by her fingers grazing your nipple, you pushed Donna so her back rested on the bed, staying astride while her desire to caress your entire body grew stronger and stronger.

“Wait,” you said, pushing her chest down, keeping your back straight over her, feeling a pleasurable cramp when you noticed the contact of her arousal with your body. “I think this is unfair.”

“Unfair?” Donna asked, moving to make the friction less unbearable for her.

“Yes...” You whispered, not letting the contact be lost as you ran your hand over her breasts, covered by the black fabric of her dress, perhaps with less care than her, hiding your desire in a pathetic way. “Get naked, Donna. I also want to enjoy your beauty.”

“Well, I...” She said with a shy smile, breathing hard, not being able to take her eyes off your bare chest.

“Don't worry, I'm going to help you,” you said, laughing, going down to her neck to kiss it tenderly, making her hands tense when yours began to get rid of the buttons of her dress.

Her pale skin was revealed to you. She trembled, but she didn’t cease the action of kissing you, caressing you, squeezing a neglected nipple between her fingers, causing an involuntary moan from your lips, a moan that bounced off her bare chest as your lips touched it.

Donna leaned up, letting the sleeves of her dress disappear from her body. Her arms reached for your head, grabbing it carefully, bringing it back to hers and kissing you passionately as she turned you around, switching positions. She was now reigning over you.

“You're beautiful, Donna...” you said when her bra disappeared in the tangle of kisses and caresses that had settled on the bed.

“No, I'm not...” She said, sighing, swallowing as if your words had made her uncomfortable.

“Yes, you are. And if I hear you say something stupid like that again, I'll grab my clothes and leave,” you threatened, catching your breath and grabbing her chin so she couldn't look away.

She laughed, still unsure of the sincerity of your statements.

Your hands ran over her breasts, making her gasp embarrassingly with each touch, with each caress, causing an involuntary movement of her hips, which she repressed by lying on top of you and kissing you in an elegant, delicate way, not wanting to lose that gentleness that made you fall in love, that kind and tender way which she treated you with.

Donna sat up as her hands went further down your body, running along your legs, bringing them closer to her mouth to kiss them carefully, slowly, going higher and higher.

You, taking advantage of her concentration, brought your hands to the edge of her dress, lowering it slowly, moving it away from her body forever.

When you saw for yourself what level of arousal you had caused her, you bit your lip, unable to look away.

“What are you looking at, tesoro?” She asked, amused, continuing her path of kisses along your legs.

“Oh, nothing...” you said amused. “Is it so hard… Just for me?”

“What do you think?” She responded, moving so you couldn't have a clear view of her erection. You knew she was embarrassed, even if it didn't seem like it.

“You’re flattering me,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss her quickly. You couldn't do it the way you wanted, because her hand pushed you, making you lie down on the bed.

“Let me flatter you the way you deserve...” she said in a voice so low that you barely heard it. Maybe she didn't speak so quietly. Maybe your heavy breathing was simply camouflaging it.

Her kisses went higher and higher, reaching the fabric that remained on your skin, separating you from the nakedness.

Donna paused for a moment, looking into your eyes, running a hand over your body; from your collarbone to the lower part of your belly. She seemed to be thinking about something. You didn't want to interrupt her moments of doubt.

“(Y/N), I want to make you feel loved, will you allow me to do so?” She asked, almost pleading, holding the edges of your underwear with her hands.

“Do it,” you said, your voice hoarse from desire, from the unbearable humidity you felt between your legs.

She smiled, lowering her hands slowly, studying the new parts of your body.

“Donna...” You said without meaning to, as if you were already feeling the contact you wanted so much.

That was like a signal to Donna, who went down immediately, kissing your navel and slowly going down to the required place, caressing your legs so that you wouldn't forget that, despite being a lustful act, love was the only thing she felt, and love was what she wanted to make you feel.

Her lips reached that area of ​​your body, delicately passing over your skin, kissing you softly, without revealing her lack of experience.

Her tongue sent an electrical current through your limbs as it made contact with your folds, licking them gently.

“Oh...” You moaned, letting yourself fall back, closing your eyes as you felt that pleasure so unknown to you, and to her. “Donna…”

She moaned into your body, without ceasing her feat, sucking just where you needed it, joining one of her hands to that mischief, separating what could bother her actions and touching and stimulating your clit carefully.

After a few moments of unmatched pleasure, your body tensed. Surely she thought adding a finger to the fun would be a good idea. It wasn't. Noticing how her finger entered only caused you to completely lose your self-control.

“You are delicious, my love...” Donna said, satisfied with how she had made you feel, continuing to caress you up and down, playing with your moisture on her fingers.

“Come here,” you said with a serious tone, pulling her wrist so you could kiss her and notice your own taste in her mouth.

After some messy kisses, the excitement returned to your body. You lay down on the bed, head resting on the pillow, dragging Donna by her hand so she was on top of you again, right between your legs.

Among the mess of your kisses, your hands became themselves again, reaching for Donna’s underwear, which was having serious problems hiding what the woman was ashamed of. You didn't want to wait any longer, and, above all, you didn't want to make her wait any longer. She had been kind, delicate, gentle with you. It was time to return the favor.

“Tesoro... I...” She said pulling away from your kisses as her erection was released from its prison. “I want I want…”

“Shh, don't talk...” you said, drowning her words with another deep kiss, as your hands brought her body closer to yours, making her dick meet your entrance for the first time.

“(Y/N)... I'm so...” She said trembling, moaning at the contact. “You are, you are perfect… your… Your body… I need… I want…”

“I said not to talk, darling,” you said jokingly, rocking your hips to increase the friction, causing a lustful gasp to echo off the walls of the room.

“Please... don’t, don't play with me. I need you...” Donna said, starting to sound terribly desperate.

Maybe you were trying to buy some time to get used to the idea of doing it, of Donna being the first. You wanted her to be the last too. Your shame could not come to light. If she knew for a moment how nervous you were, she would have stopped.

“Okay, Donna, make me yours but...” You said, avoiding her gaze, something she prevented by moving your chin slightly, searching your features for the shadow of doubt or insecurity.

“But...” She repeated, with the tremors of her body evidencing her anxious need.

“Be gentle with me, will you?” You asked, closing your eyes to drown out your fearfulness.

“Honey... I would never dare to treat you any other way,” she said, sighing, kissing you briefly, but tenderly, before checking for the last time that you were sure of that. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” You asked back, laughing amused, noticing how her body pressed against yours desperately.

“No,” Donna responded, laughing and shaking her head before kissing you again as her hand moved down to place her length at your entrance.

Little by little the tip made its way through your moisture, entering you little by little. The feeling was much more overwhelming than you thought. You had already gotten the idea that it was going to hurt. It didn't worry you, although you couldn't help but make a strange face as she went deeper and deeper.

“Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?” Donna asked, her eye radiating concern, pausing her slow, respectful movements.

“No, don't stop, please...” you said immediately, caressing her cheek, shaking your hips, which made Donna moan at the contact.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I'm going to do it slower this time,” the lady whispered, holding your hand lovingly as she introduced her penis deeper and deeper.

“Oh, wow... It's... It's big,” you said, letting your body get used to the intrusion. She looked at you bewildered.

“I'm sorry,” she said apologetically, positioning herself better so that you both were more comfortable. You couldn't help but laugh.

“Oh, are you sorry? You must be the only one in the whole world who apologizes for something like that,” you said amused, closing your eyes, noticing how her body was dying to move inside you.

“Can I move? Please,” she asked you kindly, running her hands over your hips. You nodded, thus beginning a slow, soft rhythm, accompanied by kisses on your chest, on your shoulders, accompanied by her soft but anxious moans.

“It feels... So good...” Donna said with a brusque tone, with a marked accent that revealed that she was losing control of her emotions, in a good way, of course.

“Yes...” you moaned, unable to process all the pleasure you were feeling. Your walls stretched, adapting to her body in an almost prodigious way.

Your bodies were united, melted in a warm embrace. The soft, rhythmic movements of her hips followed yours. You were crazy with pleasure, you moaned like you never thought you would.

Donna was gentle, just as you asked. She gave you the time you needed, moving only when your hips told her to.

You couldn't believe how close you were to ecstasy.

Letting your desire control your actions, you wrapped your arms around her head, leaning down until you were on top of her again, her arms holding you, hugging you, her nails digging into your skin.

You moved your hips to give her pleasure. The sensation in your body was pleasant, you felt her inside of you. You felt you were hers.

 Donna kissed you quickly, holding back most of her moans. Her rhythm was still gentle, but the tremor you felt at your entrance told you that she wanted to get out of control. You weren't going to stop.

“Donna... Please... I'm so close…” you whispered into her ear, hissing when her nails dug into your back again.

“Me… Me too. I don't think I can hold it anymore...” she gasped, grunting with pleasure, letting your hips act on their own, increasing the speed with which she moved inside you.

“Don't stop, Donna... I'm so, so close...” you said, clinging to her body, dancing on her hips.

“Honey, I'm going to...” she said just before hugging you tightly, pressing you even closer against her body. You could feel her release inside you, her wet heat filling you, sending that familiar cramp through your limbs that made your entire body tense as a guttural moan joined hers.

“You know what, Donna?” You asked after catching your breath, getting into the bed next to her, still naked, still euphoric from the pleasure of your first time.

“Mm?” She murmured, stroking your hair, keeping your head on her bare chest.

“I would like to spend many more nights like this,” you said, rubbing your face against her skin, trying not to forget all the unique sensations she had caused to you.

“Maybe... Maybe you'd like... you know... Well, I've seen your house and it's quite small and damp,” Donna said, avoiding your gaze, making you smile and sigh.

"Yes, Donna, I want to live here with you," you said, sitting up to look at her face.

“Well, that's what I was going to ask you,” she said nervously, caressing your cheek.

“Great, deal then. Can I ask you something else?”

“What do you want, tesoro?” She asked curiously.

“Can you hold me, please?”

Donna laughed, lying down.

“I would spend my life holding you next to me.”

[vinnytotherescue]

Bubbles

Pinocchio x reader

Just fluff because the game is killing me :')

Having the warm water cascade down their sore and tired body is something that most people would crave after a long and arduous day, and of course (y/n) was no exception. She has been running errands for Hotel Krat all day, from helping Eugenie with fixing Pinocchio’s weapons to taking care of Mrs Antonia. When she came across the Hotel she never expected that her life could for once be normal again so she appreciated every sweat and sore muscle she would get from all the work. It is indeed a lot better than fighting for your life everyday and not knowing when Mr death himself was going to be paying you a visit. 

Following the carpeted hallway to her new bedroom she couldn't wait to surrender to the pure bliss that the warm water would give to her aching body. The moment she entered her room she started searching for her bathing products, not much just a vanilla shampoo and body wash, some stuff that she had managed to salvage from a destroyed market. Of course the hotel had such supplies but she figured that she could use hers before returning to the property’s last goods. Grabbing all her stuff she turned to the bathroom but she was suddenly stopped by the creaking sound of the bedroom door opening. Even though she knew who the mysterious intruder was her head still snapped to the source of the sound. Pinocchio stood there his clothes once again stained with the dark black liquid, a proof of his recent battle against more automatons. Even his face was stained by the same substance but his bright blue eyes shone through the darkness of it all.

(Y/n) stared at the boy a smile already plastered on her face. Her an Pinocchio had gotten very close over the past few months, him being her mysterious company and her being his coach to humanity. P offered her a smile as well and entered the room, the dark oil staining the carpet in the process. The girl could only imagine how stained the hallway carpet would be just from seeing the mess created on her carpet in a matter of seconds. 

“P! What have we said about the shoes! You are transferring the oil all over the place!” Pinocchio smiled sheepishly as if saying sorry and his eyes fell on the girl’s bathing products. 

“Are you going for a bath?” P tilted his head still staring at the products. P was always curious about how the water must feel on the skin, he never really showered, there was no reason since he was no human. A little water and a change of clothes would do  before his next trip to Krat.He would get dirty again anyways. But he always loved the way you smelled after a bath, so fresh and airy. He wanted to try it too, but he is a puppet how would his body react? But he ran in the rain, walked in big paddles, he must be fine right? 

“Yeah i was just getting ready-” 

“Can i join you?” P still didnt fully understand the concept of privacy and intimacy. Having a bath with another person just felt normal, he was so hopeful that he didnt notice the embarrassment in the girl’s eyes. 

“A-A date would be nice first-” The boy stared in confusion clearly not understanding the meaning behind it. (Y/n) clutched her stuff tighter and tried to regulate her erratic breathing but to no avail. 

“You know i can shower first and then you can go too” 

“But i don’t know how it works, i have never tried it before” His bright blue eyes stared into her very soul, so hopeful she could not refuse. She had such a crush on him she could not refuse anything really he looked incredibly adorable trying to persuade her. And he managed it. 

“Fine come on let me grab another towel” 

P rushed in the room and followed the girl like a lost puppy as she searched for an extra towel. After she grabbed one she headed toward the bathroom and turned on the faucet, hot water slowly filling the porcelain tub. Pinocchio watched the girl’s movements like he was a painter and he wanted to capture every single detail. 

“What are you doing now?” The water level was rising as the aromatic white liquid left the bottle and filled the tub with unique bubbles of all shapes. P felt like he was dreaming. 

“I am filling it with some shampoo! It makes all those cool bubbles it is perfect for relaxing!” (Y/n) beamed as she watched the bubbles double and triple in amount. P came closer and placed his human fingers over them, each of them disintegrating leaving behind a beautiful light aroma. His smile returned and as he played with the water and the girl just stood there anxious since she was done with the preparations. 

Now comes the hard part, going in.

“I-I think we should get in before the water turns cold” (Y/n) hugged herself anxiously and avoided the boy’s eyes that had settled right on her figure. 

“You can go in first” P left the tub and turned his back to the girl, waiting for her patiently as she undressed and got in. Not going to lie, (Y/n) was pleasantly surprised by this and she climbed in as fast as she could. It was such a nice feeling knowing that she would not be disrespected. P was such a kind soul and that is one reason she fell for him in the first place. 

“You can get in Pino too” thank god the bathtub was big enough for two people. (Y/n) shut her eyes the moment she saw P removing his stained shirt even though she would love to just take a peak. However, Pinocchio was so respectful towards her it was only fair she would act the same. After a few seconds she felt the water rise a bit and her cheeks turned bright red, her hands unable to leave her face.  

“You can open your eyes (y/n), I am done” the girl shook her head and removed her hands hesitantly. Her eyes immediately locked with the blue ones she had fallen in love with and she could feel herself melting, the hot water providing no help to fight it. Pino on the other side was beyond happy, the warm water felt so good against his cold skin and he could see the dense black oil struggling to stay on his body. His hands grazed the bubbles, a game of survival for them and a moment of temporary bliss for him.

While he remained focused on the sight of the fallen bubbles, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice the dark oil tainting his beautiful freckled face. Her hand went up to wipe it before being able to control the movement. The moment it landed on his cheeks his cerulean eyes had already landed on her. The shade of red on her face turned darker and after wiping the dark liquid she snapped her hand back. 

“Sorry you had some oil on you face” Pinocchio held the part of his face that she touched and longed for the warmth. Grabbing her hand he placed it back to his cheek as he leaned on it. (Y/n) was slowly dying by now. The warmth of her body for sure had found the boy and she just stood there like a stone statue. But the closer she looked, his fluffy hair was also stained….Shoot. Impulsive decisions were her forte by now so her other hand reaching to touch his velvet locks was no wonder. 

“Your hair is stained too Pino, did you bathe in oil or something?” Her hands racked through his hair as she tried to remove some knot she found in the process. 

“It just splashes everywhere, i can’t control it” the girl just stared at him sympathetically. It is no secret that every time he would return to hotel Krat she would be worried that under all this oil would be hidden some kind of nasty wound. She knew stuff out there were very difficult. She also knew that Pinocchio was very capable of protecting himself but that did not stop her from worrying like crazy. 

“it’s ok Pino,just… wait” She swiftly turned around and grabbed another bottle smaller in size and poured a generous amount of shampoo in her hands. After making sure to emuslify it she scootched a bit closer to the boy. 

“Can you turn around for me P?” the boy stared at her in question but nevertheless obliged. His back was now at her, thankful that he wasn’t able to see her flustered face anymore. He was much taller than her so she had to sit on her knees to reach properly. Her hands spread the aromatic shampoo all over his locks and she slowly started massaging his scalp. Immediately, she could feel his tense body relax and his head slightly fall towards her. A small smile found its way on her lips as she swept back his hair after rinsing it. His hair reached above his shoulders, the color almost as dark as the color of a raven due to it being wet. He slowly turned his body to face hers, dazed almost by the relaxing massage. He just looked so relaxed for once. (Y/n) could finally see clearly both of his eyes and all the individual freckles adorning his pale face. His eyes stared at her hair and a happy smile returned back to his face. 

“Can i wash your hair too?” The girl smiled and passed him the bottle as she turned her back at him. He carefully tried to imitate the girl’s movements from before but with his legion arm it was always a bit more complicated. He was always afraid that he would hurt her somehow. Like a delicate flower, the moment he would touch it it would crumble like all of the automatons in his way did. So he truly tried to be very careful. The feeling of his legion arm was so different but the cold metal felt so good against your throbbing skull. 

Having both of them washed their hair and the water turning cold was a sign that they should probably get out. Pinocchio was the first one to step out offering the girl a towel right after wearing his. She clearly tried to suppress her urge to look at his upper body as she herself wrapped a towel around her. Emptying the tub they both exited the bathroom and (Y/n) was quick to search for a blowdryer. Pinocchio was already changing into a new pair of clothes, his wet hair dampening his brand new shirt. (Y/n) shook her head giggling as she changed too. 

“Come here silly, we need to dry your hair, your t-shirt got wet” Pinocchio couldn’t get sick so drying his hair felt unnecessary but he would never say no to spending more time with her. He simply sat on the bed in front of her as she blow dryed his hair. The hot air felt so good against his damp hair and the steady noise of the blowdryer was making his eyes droopier minute by minute. His body felt so heavy and he started leaning towards the girl. Finally he was so tired that he couldn’t hold on anymore and let his head fall on her lap. The girl signed in defeat and turned off the blowdryer. His hair was still wet in places but he looked so peaceful sleeping on her lap. She simply let her hands trace over his soft features. 

“You are lucky that i love you” 

“I love you too”

It is fair to say that this was not what (y/n) expected the end of her day to be like, but she was certainly not mad at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end 

A.N: Thank you so much for reading everyone! If you have any other ideas for lies of p x reader just drop them in my inbox, comments or dms!

P.s Let’s pretend that water would not hurt Pinocchio in any way Lmao

[allwaswell16]

F a v o r i t e F i c s O f 2 0 2 3

As an avid One Direction fan fic reader, 2023 has been a truly amazing year for fics! I read so many incredible fics this year, so please check out all my recs for the year here! Below you will find fics that made me cry or cry with laughter. Others brought me comfort during hard times or filled my heart with joy or had me screaming into my pillow in surprise. I share this list with you all not to say that these fics are better than others from this year, but to say thank you to these writers who have left a mark on me with their fics.

To all our fandom's writers, thank you for the gift of your stories! Sending much love to you in the new year!

⚜️ Louis / Harry ⚜️

And What If I Were You by��jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 109k, famous/not famous) For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart? And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever?

De amore ex tempore by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 101k, historical) the Middle Ages AU where Harry is a philosopher, whose thoughts happen five centuries too soon and Louis is a painter, whose art happens five centuries too late. & Or: the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence

(NR, 82k, age difference) Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.

Teach me how to love by @perfectdagger

(E, 70k, one night stand) The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

your memory over me by @shimmeringevil

(E, 64k, exes) The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone

saw some things on the other side by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 61k, murder mystery) Unfortunately, Louis’ plan doesn’t take into account the fact that instead of writing murder mysteries, he will find himself in one.

and i would search the night sky to find you by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 56k, omegaverse) Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. He has his whole life already planned for him, learning his place as the potential mate for an important Alpha, practicing his home making skills, and be obedient above all else.

Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 44k, mystery) Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie

(E, 41k, historical circus au) Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(M, 38k, omegaverse) This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost. 

My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence

(NR, 35k, small town au) Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours

(T, 35k, coffee shop) Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. 

You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 32, coworkers) Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is.

Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 29k, thief au) Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rogue ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k, omegaverse) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. 

what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 17k, girl direction) Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, omegaverse) the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

It Will Always Be You by @phdmama

(E, 15k, older Larry) If you had told Louis Tomlinson a year ago that he would be celebrating his birthday by kissing the man who is the love of his life on a Church Street park bench in Burlington VT as the snow drifted softly down, he would have told you that you were extremely imaginative. 

Eyes on the Horizon by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 12k, age difference) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up.

You Light Up the Path by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 12k, mermaid au) Louis Tomlinson left his home in Doncaster as a young man with the intent of making enough money to send it back home to his family and support them however he could. Harry, or so he likes to be called, is the myth and legend himself known as the Staithes Mermaid. 

Sex Drunk Suckerpunch by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 7k, sugar baby) Sugar Baby Louis did what any sugar baby should avoid doing but (clichely) end up doing anyways, that is, failing for his sugar mama.

Court Wine by @enchantedlandcoffee , red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 7k, omegaverse) after a misunderstanding during a scrabble game, Alpha Louis starts courting Omega Harry without the latter being aware of it.

you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

(T, 7k, a/b/o) 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything

(M, 6k, exes to lovers) Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie

(T, 4k, omegaverse) Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

Unplant by @hellolovers13

(M, 4k, neighbors) Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

nights like these by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 3k, angst with a happy ending) you smile at me and say “it’s time to go.” but i don’t feel like going home.

sorry for... by stretchmybones / @lookwhatyoumademelou

(M, 1k, roommates) How else was Harry supposed to apologize properly? He was indeed a stress baker. 

Mistletoe Kiss by @neondiamond

(G, 1k, roommates) A little bit of mistletoe is just the thing Louis needed to let his roommate Harry know he’s got quite the crush on him.

Still by downcamethelightning / @downcamethelightnings

(G, 666 words, Halloween) FBI Agent Louis calls Harry to investigate a case believed to have taken place in Harry's own home. Harry is quite familiar with the victim's face.

⚜️ Rare Pairs ⚜️

The Light Out In The Madness (Hold Tight) by @lalalaartje

(E, 46k, Niall/Louis) When Louis ends up with Niall as a roommate after a messy break up with Harry, he considers it truly life saving. They become fast friends and while Louis is sceptical about Niall's idea to start fake dating to take revenge on Harry, it can't be that bad, can it?

neither wanting more, neither asking why (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 40k, OT5) If Louis is the origin, Zayn the expansion, Liam the complication, Niall the solution, then Harry - Harry's the completion.

Bloom by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 28k, Louis/Liam) In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

Jump! by @reminiscingintherain

(M, 15k, Louis/Tommy Longhurst) “I absolutely know what this means, lad,” he replied, his voice gentle and supportive. “The way you’re reacting to being out there? That’s exactly why I chose you for the support slot.” He gave a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve this, okay?” 

Cold Spring by @nouies

(E, 8k, Louis/Pedro Pascal) Louis is a coffee shop owner and Pedro is his newest customer.

Chaos by @haztobegood

(M, 100 words, Louis/OMC [bodyguard]) Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.