Tumgik
#this was edited to Now We Are Free and it doesn't match but it was very epic when i was in photoshop lol
maximura · 1 year
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year
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Butter
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: None
Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.
Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️
Word count: 3.6k
Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️
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September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.
It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.
If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.
Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.
You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.
‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’
You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’
‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’
Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’
You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’
‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’
Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’
‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’
You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down. 
Especially when the man looks like this.
Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’
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‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern. 
‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’
When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’
‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’
He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’
‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.
He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’
‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’
He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’
‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’
‘Two, actually.’
Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.
Interesting.
You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’
‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’
Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’
The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’
You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’
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You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.
Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’
‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.
Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’
You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’
Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.
The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.
There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.
‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.
‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.
You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’
He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’
‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’
If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.
‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’
Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’
He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.
‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’
He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’
Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’
‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.
You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips. 
‘Can I, now?’ he teases.
You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’
Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.
‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’
He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’
You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it. 
Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’
He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’
You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’
Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’
You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’
‘Sarah.’
‘What colour does Sarah like?’
‘Any and all shades of pink.’
‘I can work with that.’
Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’
Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’
Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’
He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’
You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.
‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.
Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘
‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’
‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.
You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’
‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.
‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’
‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’
‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’
‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.
‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.
‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’
Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.
‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.
‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’
‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’
Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.
You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’
‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’
‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’
‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’
‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’
Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.
‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’
‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’
‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’
‘You been?’
‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’
You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’
‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’
‘Fourth, actually.’
He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’
‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’
He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’
You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’
When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’
‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.
Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’
‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.
‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.
'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.
'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.
You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.
Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard. 
You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out. 
‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’
He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.
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You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.
‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.
But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’
Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’
Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’
When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.
‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.
‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’
You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’
Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’
You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’
You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’
‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.
He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’
‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’
Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’
‘How?’
Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’
‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’
‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.
You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’
He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’
Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’
Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’
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More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...
The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳
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localkiss · 7 months
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(edit bc bitches can't read for shit.)
re2 leon is so...... 😭 Like can I eat him??
Also, a lot of the fics about him are him being all whiny and subby like. ..um did we play the same re2 remake ? Where was he like this 😭😭🧍🏻‍♀️
BEFORE U SAY ANYTHING!!!!!
I get it, but the dude is not submissive in my eyes ! He isn't a hard dom that's for sure. He's more of a soft dom/ does whatever tf you want. More laid-back and lets you roam free for the most part.
Prob would stare at you like this if you were to try and give him a rim job:
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He'd be like, "What are you doing ??" Bc I know his ass doesn't clean himself like that. He's a man! 😭
i know this man would want to handcuff you but like he would constantly be checking in. "Babe, are you sure?" "You okay? Does it hurt?" "Let me know if it's too much, okay? I'll take them off, if you want me to."
Don't get me wrong tho. Leon would gladly get on his knees and start to worship your body from head to toe. Thinks you deserve to be loved and cared for, treated for like a beautiful doll! I think he would be the one out of all of them (maybe besides DI Leon), to be okay w/ you putting lil makeup on him.
I think he would love to leave small little marks or wear something matching. Omg he would enjoy a handmade bracelet 🤭!!
Okay since his ass works out everyday, I think he'd think it would be funny to have you fight him. 😭Dude would find it cute when you try and break free from his grasp. DEAD ASS HE WOULD DEF PRACTICE ARRESTING PPL ON YOU AND LIKE READING YOU, YOUR MIRANDA RIGHTS. (is that still a thing... I heard it wasn't ?? Anyways..)
"Babe, I told you to try and resist." He pins you down with ease, using one hand. His other hand is currently reaching for his handcuffs on his belt. Straddling over your hips, pressing into your ass to also hold you down. Trying not to put all his weight on your body, not wanting to hurt you because you're not a real criminal. It's just practice.
You try and kick out with a whine, "I am trying Leon! You're just too strong." Yeah, that feeds to his small ego. Also feeds his friend down there, who's poking you as you lay underneath him. With each shift and groan, he lets out a shaky breath.
Crazy how you're not doing much, but it's doing a whole lot to him. He decides to be cheeky and leans down to roll his hips forward against your ass. "You really can't do nothing now," he clicks the handcuffs on your wrists, giving it a tug to make sure it's not loose.
I'm pulling my hair out. I need him. I'm 🤓
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achilles-rage · 2 months
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Tease
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summary: after not seeing eddie for almost two weeks, you decide to tease him a little when you go out for dinner. he doesn't appreciate what you're doing in public, and takes matters into his own hands once he gets you alone, teaching you a lesson.
word count: 7.2k
request: anon- I love your nsfw alphabet for Eddie. I was wondering if you might write some smut for him? Something with some hints of Dom Eddie maybe with some blindfolding and some spanking before he ties her to the bed to have his way. Then some fluffffffy aftercare. First snuggling up with his head on her chest (the medic in him listening as her heart rate returns to normal) then going to run a bath for her and carrying her into the bathroom before joining her in the tub and washing her hair and everything. Then he makes them both sandwiches before they settle in for a cheesy romcom movie.
A/N: whoever requested this i'm so sorry it took so long! i'm in a bit of a writing slump right now, and i didn't want to release anything i didn't like. and another thing!!! eddies chest hair is making me feral!! that's all. enjoy<33
TW: smut (fingering, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex), fluffy eddie, barely edited (too much work :/ ), no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ only!!
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You race home after your long day of work, wanting to get ready as quickly as possible. Eddie had texted you earlier today, asking if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight, and you immediately agreed. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him, as you both had busy weeks, and your free time never seemed to line up. 
You decide you want to surprise him, so, after showering and doing your hair and makeup, you put on a matching set before putting on your dress. He hasn’t seen it before, and you’ve been waiting for a good time to use it, and you think tonight will be perfect. He loves when you wear cute sets for him. It doesn’t matter what colour, or what style, so you decide to go with one that goes best with your skin tone and accentuates your curves perfectly.
You smile to yourself as you do some last minute touch ups in the mirror, turning to the door when you hear him knock. You laugh softly to yourself; as many times as he’s been to your house, he still always knocks when he picks you up. Something about his abuela being disappointed if he doesn’t.
You smile as you open the door, feeling giddy when you see his eyes immediately trail down your figure. You know you look good, and it’s making you feel even better knowing that Eddie thinks so too. His hands are immediately on you, pulling you into him with one hand on your hip and the other on your jaw. You lips meet his in a searing kiss, and you’re so caught off guard that you stumble back a step or two, which makes Eddie step forward a few steps, whispering a soft greeting against your lips. You pull back after a moment, looking up at him with a smile as you run your hands up his chest to wrap your arms around his neck.
“You look gorgeous, mi amor.” he tells you, fighting the urge to keep walking you back into your house, forgetting all about the dinner reservation he made earlier today. You stand up on your toes and give him another quick peck, thanking him softly.
“Should we go?” you ask him, noticing the look in his eyes. You know that look; you’ve seen it many times, so you know exactly what’s going through his head right now. He pauses for a moment, thinking it over as he runs his hands up and down your sides, letting his eyes trail down your body again.
“Do we have to?” he murmurs, licking his lips as his eyes stop on the way your chest is peeking out of your chest. 
“Do I not deserve a nice dinner before you take me to your place?” you tease, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him, swaying gently side to side with him. He rolls his eyes at this, a soft laugh escaping his throat.
“You’re a brat, sometimes. You know that?” he says with a laugh. You shrug as you take a step back from him, letting your hands drop to your sides. You move around his frame in the door, grabbing your purse on the table on the way by and taking a step outside.
“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you for later. But we have to actually go out in order for you to get it.” you tell him, fighting back a smile as he groans, following you out of the house and down to his truck.
He walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and waiting for you to get in before making his way around to the driver’s side.
“So, what kind of surprise are we talking about?” he purrs once you’re both situated and he’s pulled onto the road. He puts a hand on your thigh as he speaks, his pinky dancing along the hem of your dress.
“One that you’ll like.” you tease, looking over at him from the passenger seat. You laugh softly as he groans again, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road as his thumb gently moves over your thigh. You can tell you’re already getting to him; you know how easy it is to do so. This just urges you on more, hoping to see how far you can take it after two weeks apart.
“You sure we can’t just skip dinner and go home?” he says in a slightly teasing tone, but you can hear the desperation in his voice. 
“Keep driving, Diaz.” you tell him sternly, but with a smile on your face. He tightens his grip on your thigh, itching to move his hand up higher, but knowing he should at least wait until after dinner. He does want to treat you to a nice dinner first, and he wants to catch up on each other's weeks, anyway.
Soon enough, you get to the restaurant, and are immediately escorted to your table near the back of the restaurant. He chose a nice place; it seems a lot fancier than you’re used to, but you appreciate it nonetheless. 
As you’re both deciding on what you want to eat, you both take each other in. You notice how he looks in the darker lighting of the restaurant; the slight stubble on his face, the way his big brown eyes reflect the light above the table, the way his shirt clings to his arms and his broad chest so nicely. He takes in the way your eyes dance across the menu, face lighting up when you read something that sounds good, the way your nose scrunches when you read something you clearly do not want to order, the way your hands glide across the menu.
You don’t do anything more to tease him until you’re both almost done with your food, too excited to catch up with each other to even think about it. He’s finishing up telling you about how he had to go to the store at almost 10pm because Christopher forgot about a project that was due the next day when you decide to start again.
You nod softly as you look at him with innocent eyes, slowly trailing your foot up his leg, trying not to show on your face that you know what you’re doing. He stops speaking as your foot trails up higher, clearing his throat and giving you a stern look.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his body going tense as he narrows his eyes at you. You shrug nonchalantly, with an innocent smile on your lips.
“I’m not doing anything.” you respond in the same low tone, before taking a sip of your wine. You lick your lips as you lower the glass onto the table, your foot continuing further up his leg. His eyes flicker down to your tongue moving across your lips, his breath catching in his throat. Suddenly, he grabs your ankle and stops your movements, which makes you jump slightly in surprise.
“You’re on thin ice, mi amor.” he tells you sternly, letting go of your ankle and letting it fall back down. You smirk slightly, shrugging again. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you tell him, but he sees the glint in your eyes as you lean forward on the table, giving him a better view of your chest.
“Keep it up and you’ll be punished when we get home.” He gives you a narrow look, trying to fight back a groan as he feels his pants tighten under the table. He knows that you know exactly what you’re doing, and he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t exciting him.
“You wanna get out of here?” you ask him, a smirk on your face as he immediately turns in his seat to find the waiter. He pays the bill quickly, then stands, going to your side to take your hand and lead you out of the restaurant. 
“That new gelato place is finally open. Wanna go there before we go home?” you ask him as you exit the restaurant, looking up at him with big hopeful eyes.
“You know exactly what I wanna do right now.” he tells you in a low voice, leaning in to whisper in your ear as you pass by another couple walking into the restaurant. 
“Please?” You give him the best puppy dog eyes you can. You really do want to try the place you’ve been talking about, but you also want to keep teasing him before you get home. You can’t help the excitement that fills your belly as you think about what he may do when you get home.
“Alright, fine. But no more teasing, mi amor. You know what’ll happen if you do.” he says with a sigh, unable to say no when you give him that look. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and he knows it, but he’s still going to make sure you behave for him.
“Yes sir.” you say in a teasing tone, walking in front of him as you get to the truck, letting him stare at your ass as you sway your hips slightly. He fights back a groan at your words paired with the way your hips move, and he jogs ahead to open your door again. 
Once you’re on the road again, you look out the passenger side window, absentmindedly putting a hand on his thigh as he continues driving. He tenses as he feels your hand moving up his thigh slowly, turning to look at you, but unable to see the smirk on your face as you look away from him.
“You want to be punished when we get home?” he asks in a low voice, feeling his pants tighten once again as your hand gets dangerously close to his hardening length. You shrug, humming softly as you look over at him, hand ghosting over his bulge, making him let out a sharp breath. 
He grabs your hand, putting it back on your lap and holding it there for the rest of the drive. The soft laugh that escapes you puts him more on edge. He knows this is just a game to you, and he’s determined to make you understand that he’s not joking. 
Once he pulls into the parking lot of the gelato place, you quickly slip out of the truck before he can say another word. He follows you, keeping a hand on your wide hip as you walk into the store and wait in line. He moves to stand behind you as you wait to order, keeping both hands on your hips as he holds you close. You smile softly, leaning back into him for a moment, and he’s unaware that this isn’t as innocent as it looks.
After a moment, you look around, noticing that the only people in the store are the people in front of you in line, and you take this as an opportunity while they’re occupied to push your ass back against him. To anyone else, it looks like you’re merely swaying gently from side to side, but Eddie and you can both feel the way you’re practically grinding against him, making his cock twitch in his pants.
“I’m serious, mi amor. You’re looking to get spanked when you get home.” he growls in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he feels you move. You smile innocently, continuing to move slightly in his grip, making a low groan escape his throat.
He’s about to say something else when the worker finishes with the people in front of you and moves over to take your order. You smile warmly at the worker, stepping forward and ordering. Eddie follows right behind you, trying to readjust himself in his pants as he keeps you in front of him, and orders after you. 
Once you both have your gelato, you lead him outside to sit at an outdoor table. His body is tense as he sits on the opposite side of the table, eyes focused on the way your lips wrap around your spoon, how you lick the gelato off of it. He doesn’t say a word, as there is another group at a table near you, but he tries to convey his feeling as he stares you down, almost daring you to try something else.
You decide not to do much else. You see the look in his eyes, and it begins to set in that you’re in for it once you get home. As excited as you are for what’s to come, you know that he rarely lets you off easy when it comes to punishments.
Once you both finish your gelato, you silently make your way back to his truck, still wary of the people around you. As soon as you’re both buckled in, he starts to drive back to his house, putting a hand on your thigh, slowly inching your dress up your thighs. You let out a shaky breath as his hand makes its way up to your clothed core, his fingers gliding over your sensitive bud with a feather light touch.
“Is this what you wanted, honey?” he asks in a soft voice as his fingers barely graze over you. You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as his touch gets more firm, beginning to feel the wetness through your lace panties. 
He keeps this up for a moment or two before sliding your panties to the side and slowly inserting his middle finger, making you gasp softly and spread your legs further apart, allowing him more access. He curls his finger up as his thumb starts to rub your clit, making you whimper and tilt your head back against the headrest.
His name makes its way out of your mouth as he adds another finger, quickening his pace as he continues to rub your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. You feel your high approach quickly, waiting desperately for some sort of release after teasing him all night, and he picks up on this. As you’re about to fall over the edge, he removes his fingers, and takes his hand out from between your legs.
You let out a whine, bucking your hips as you try to chase your high. He lets out a soft chuckle, eyes focused on the road, and you look over at him with a desperate look in your eyes.
“Too bad, mi amor. That’s what you get for teasing me all night.” He raises his fingers to his mouth, licking your essence of his fingers with a low groan. “God, you taste you good.” he says smugly, watching you out of the corner of your eye as you bring your thighs together, trying to get some sort of friction.
“Ah ah. None of that. You’re getting punished, remember?” he says sternly, swatting your thigh, which makes you spread your legs again in surprise. You let out a whine, chest heaving as you look over at him. He can see the desperation in your face, and this makes him let out a dark laugh as he continues driving. 
“Eddie-” You’re cute off before you can say another word as he puts his hand back on your inner thigh, not quite going as high as you want him to.
“And no begging, either. You’ll just make it worse for yourself.” he tuts, which causes you to whine softly. 
You keep quiet the rest of the drive with your bottom lip between your teeth, his thumb moving over your thigh driving you crazy as you try not to buck your hips in a desperate attempt at contact. If this is what he has in mind for tonight, you really don’t want to push his buttons any more than you already have.
Once he pulls into his driveway, he removes his hand from your thigh and slides out of the car, opening your door for you again. You thank him softly as you make your way inside, swaying your hips slightly in hopes of him going easy on you, even though you know it’s a long shot. 
He closes the door once you’re both inside and pushes you against the wall, his hands immediately going to your hips and grinding against you. He kisses you hard, which makes your hands move up to weave through his hair as you let out a soft whine. 
“You’re gonna be wishing you never teased me, honey.” he whispers against your lips before reaching one hand into your hair and pulling your head back. You gasp at his actions, looking up at him with puffy lips and blown pupils. 
“Bedroom. Now.” he tells you, smacking your ass hard as you start to make your way down the hall. He stalks after you, coming up with a plan as he goes. He smirks once you get to his bedroom and turn to look at him. He sits down on the end of the bed with his feet on the floor, licking his lips as you stand a few feet from the bed, not knowing what he wants you to do.
“You got a surprise for me, sweetheart?” You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you step closer to him with your hands behind your back. He beckons you closer to him with a hand, making you stand between his legs. 
“Take it off.” he tells you softly, his fingers tracing the hem of your dress. You reach down and pull your dress over your head, letting it fall to the floor as you keep your eyes on him.
He inhales a sharp breath, reaching out and running his fingers up your plush thighs, taking in your matching set and the way he can see your tits spilling out of the top and your soft tummy poking out. He licks his lips as he drinks you in for a moment, then scoots slightly further back on the bed and pats his lap. You shake your head quickly with a whine, frowning.
“Please.” you trail off, but he cuts you off, swatting your thigh with the hand still resting on it. 
“Don’t make me ask again.” he says firmly, making you let out a soft sigh before you lay across his knee. He grabs your wrists, using one hand to pin them behind your back, making you squirm slightly in his grip. His other hand goes down to your ass, running his hand across it gently, but as you start to squirm, he raises his hand and brings it back down hard against your ass. You whine softly as his hand makes contact, your cheeky lace panties not doing anything to soften the blow.
“Such a nice surprise for me, mi amor. Too bad you decided to grind your pretty little ass against me in public. Now, I don’t wanna hear a sound from you, unless it’s to count.” You bite your lip at his words, dropping your head in disappointment.
“How many?” you ask in a soft voice, turning your head to look up at him over your shoulder. You’re met with a devilish smile, which makes dread fill your belly.
“As many as I say.” You whine, squirming slightly in his grip. You feel the slight brattiness come back at his words. It’s not like you were being that bad, you think, this is hardly fair. 
He raises his hand again as your whine hits his ears, a loud sound echoing through the room. You bite your lip harder as you jolt forward slightly, trying not to make a noise.
“Count, sweetheart. How many was that?” he asks in a degrading tone. You let out a sigh, whispering “one” through gritted teeth. 
“I’m not liking your tone. Let’s try that again.” He spanks you harder this time, but you try not to react, keeping your head down.
“Two.” you say louder, an edge still in your voice.
“Uh uh. I said let’s try it again. That’s still one, baby.” You bark out a quick “one” as your breath quickens, already feeling the soft stinging from his hand.
“Good girl. Nine more.” He spanks you again, as hard as before, which causes a small noise out of your throat. You try to keep still, but the way his hand moves across your ass in an act of soothing is making the sharp pain worse.
You keep a straight face as he spanks you three more times, continuing to count through gritted teeth. He knows you’re trying to keep a brave front, so his hand comes down harder on the sixth spank. 
You can’t help the whimper that escapes your throat, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to squirm against him. You count again, and he’s quick to bring his hand back down again just as hard.
“How many is that? Huh, mi amor?” he mocks, taking in your tense body and the way your head is dropped down. 
“Seven.” you croak out, trying not to squirm as his fingers lightly move across your ass. 
“Have you had enough yet?” You bite your lip, trying not to give in to his words. You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your thighs together as his fingers go lower, getting closer to your dripping heat.
He isn’t pleased with your silence, so he raises his hand back and brings it down with more force than any of the other times.
“Yes!” you cry out, jolting forward. You’re met with a dark chuckle as his fingers move back down to your slit, feeling the wetness through your panties.
“You should’ve thought about that before you acted out, pretty girl. I’m not stopping until we’re at ten. Now, how many was that?” he purrs, keeping his touches feather-light.
“Eight.” you manage to get out before his hand comes back down on you again, making you whimper loudly.
“Please.” you get squirming against him. You’ve hit your breaking point; the sharp pain on your ass has increased tenfold, and you can barely handle it.
He tuts softly and spanks you hard twice, right in a row. He smirks darkly as you cry out, fighting against his firm grip on your wrists.
“One more, then maybe I’ll let you up.” Before you can get out a word that he’s already past ten, his hand comes back down one last time, making a tear roll down your cheek as you whimper. 
He shushes you softly for a moment, trying to soothe your aching ass by rubbing it softly with his hand. You try to slow your breathing, flinching slightly every now and then as the pain comes in waves.
“Up, mi amor.” he tells you after a moment, letting go of your wrists. You blink back your tears as you stand up slowly, moving to stand between his legs. His face softens for a moment as he takes in the tears that have fallen down your face, and he reaches up to gently wipe them away with his thumb. 
“No more tears. I’m not done with you yet.” He stands up, grabbing your jaw and kissing you again. As much as your ass hurts, you can’t deny that his actions have made desire pool in your panties. Your hands are practically clawing at him, trying to get his shirt off as he presses himself against you, and he chuckles softly against your lips. He pulls back for a moment, just enough to get his shirt over his head, before his lips are back on you, his hands groping every part of you that he can reach.
His hands trail up your bare waist, and the warmth of his hands makes a shiver run down your spine. He can feel your breathing grow heavier, and he turns you slightly and pushes you back onto the bed. He stands at the foot of the bed and looks down at you, a predatory look on his eyes, and you can’t help but back up so your head is over his pillow, leaning up on your elbows.
His eyes trail down your plush figure again, taking in the matching set you picked out just for him. He smirks at the thought of you picking it out just for him, and his eyes trail down to your breasts popping out of your bra. 
He crawls over top of you, resting between your legs and kissing up your chest to your neck while both hands are placed on either side of your head to hold himself up. He relishes in the soft whimpers he’s pulling from your lips, and he almost forgets that he’s supposed to be punishing you for a moment, but then he pulls back with a devilish look on his face. 
He sits back on his knees and leans over to the bedside table, taking out a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. Your eyes follow his hands, and you shake your head with wide eyes once you realize what he’s about to do.
“No, please. I’ll be good.” you plead with him, looking up at him with big eyes. He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to kiss you softly before he roughly grabs your wrists and forces your arms above your head.
“I told you, mi amor. You need to be punished.” he tells you sternly, a smirk on his face as you struggle in his grip. Your squirming is useless, however, as he easily overpowers you and cuffs your hands together, hooking the handcuffs through the post in the middle of his bed frame. The last thing you see is the sinful look on his face before he ties the blindfold around your eyes, your heartbeat quickening as your senses are diminished.
“Please.” you get out one more time in a breathy voice, and you hear his dark chuckle before feeling his hands grab the sides of your panties. You lift your hips instinctively, letting him pull your panties down your legs until they’re completely off. He takes a moment to look down at you, quivering in anticipation, eyes landing on your pretty bra. He wants to leave it on, he thinks, he likes how your tits look busting out of it.
You gasp as you feel his fingers ghosting at your entrance, and you can’t help but buck your hips up, desperate for more friction. He tuts softly, placing his other hand over your plush tummy and keeping you against the bed as he continues. You’re mumbling out incoherent noises as you wait for him to do more than tease you, and you tilt your head back with a soft whimper as he finally inserts a finger, curling it up against your g spot. 
You let out a louder whine as his thumb comes down to circle your clit, his finger beginning to move at a quicker pace. He watches you intently, and takes in the heaving of your chest and your lips parted ever so slightly as you suck in deep breaths. He smiles as he watches your wrists tugging at the cuffs, desperate to get your hands on him, but it’s no use. He has you right where he wants you, and he’s not letting you go anytime soon. 
“You like that, mi amor?” he asks softly, licking his lips when you nod desperately. He adds another finger and continues the pace, letting out a soft moan as he feels you clench around his fingers so perfectly. He sees your hips start to move involuntarily, your climax fast approaching, and he keeps up his movements, leaning down to kiss and suck on the parts of your chest that are exposed.
When you’re right on the edge of release, he pulls his fingers away, leaving you dripping and whimpering for him. He holds your thighs apart as you try to squeeze them shut, desperate for your release. 
“Uh uh. Keep those pretty legs open for me, mi amor. I’m not done with you yet.” You’re regretting all of your actions right about now. He’s ruthless, and the way he’s enjoying keeping you on the edge makes you wish you were good at dinner.
You hear the bedside table open again, and you can’t help but thrash violently against your restraints, knowing exactly what’s about to happen.
“No, Eddie. Please.” you trail off, mumbling quiet protests as you hear the small vibrator whir to life, the sound getting closer and closer to you. 
“For such a brat, you sure are quick to give in, honey. You’re gonna take it.” He knows you know your safe word, but he also knows you. He knows you won’t say it. You’re much too desperate for him and his unfair behaviour. 
He lowers the vibrator to your aching cunt, making you shiver and moan. He holds it firmly against you with one hand and holds your stomach down with the other. His eyes are aimed on how your slick has already drenched the vibrator, but he can’t help his eyes slowly moving up to your soft tummy, loving how it feels under his fingers.
You’re still sensitive from his fingers, and it doesn’t take long for the tension to build in your belly again. You start squirming more, moving your head around to try to get the blindfold off, desperate to see Eddie’s face. He takes his hand off your tummy and pulls the blindfold back into place, then holds your cheeks between his fingers, angling your face towards him despite not being able to see each other’s eyes. 
“You gonna come for me, mi amor?” You nod desperately, soft pleads tumbling off your lips, slightly muffled from the way he’s squeezing your cheeks.
“Let go for me, honey. It’s okay.” he tells you softly, eyes trained on your covered face as you tilt your head back against his grip. His eyes trail down to your heat, watching as you come, writhing beneath him. 
He pulls the vibrator away for a moment and trails two fingers up your slit before he brings his fingers to his lips. He brings them into his mouth, licking and sucking your release from his fingers, moaning softly.
“So sweet. All mine.” he murmurs, and you feel your stomach clench at his words, only being able to imagine your release dripping off his fingers and onto his tongue. Without warning, he lowers the vibrator back to your clit, moving it in circles slowly, making you lurch up off the bed slightly. You let out a loud whimper, biting your lip as you lay back down on the bed, still sensitive from your orgasm.
“You’re gonna give me another one, aren’t you? You gonna give me what I want?” he more tells you than asks you in a dark, almost mocking tone.
“Yes. Yes. Please, Eddie.” you get out, trying to close your legs around his hand. He squeezes one thigh with his other hand, ripping it away to rest back on the bed, tutting softly. You want nothing more than to put your hands on him, to see his face, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed by the pleasure he’s giving you. 
Your release approaches you quickly again, a dull ache in your clit from the growing overstimulation Eddie is giving you.
“You gonna come again so quick? You’re so desperate, aren’t you? My desperate little thing.” he mocks, and his words push you over the edge again. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as you let go, his name tumbling from your lips in a soft scream. You feel his hand move from your thigh to your face, gently caressing it.
“So good for me, mi amor. You did so good.” he says softly, finally taking the vibrator away and turning it off. You lay still on the bed, your chest rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath. He shushes you softly, a small smile on his lips as he keeps his thumb rubbing across your cheek, giving you a moment to slow your breathing.
You blink slowly as he finally takes the blindfold off, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust before you look up at him. Your lips are still parted slightly, and your pupils are blown, and he loves the way you look in this moment. He stands up and undoes his belt before pulling his pants down. Your eyes trail down to his boxers, noticing them stained with precum. You let out a soft whine, biting your lip as he finally pulls his boxers down and crawls on top of you. He wastes no time getting between your legs, positioning himself above you before sinking into you with a low grunt. You let out a soft whine as you close your eyes, feeling him fill you up so perfectly. He gives you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting into you, his mouth right by your ear, making you shiver as his low grunts and moans fill your ear.
“You take me so well, mi amor.” he says breathlessly, reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He feels you clenching around him, and he smirks, leaning back to look at your face.
“You like when I say that? Tell you how perfect you are for me?” You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment, but you’re too focused on him moving in and out of you roughly to care too much. You nod, struggling against the cuffs again, desperate to trail your hands down his back, to dig your nails into his shoulders.
“I think you were made for me, honey. You feel so good wrapped around me.” You whimper louder. You can’t get enough of his words, and all you can do is lay under him, taking all of him into you with soft whimpers.
He keeps up his rough pace, leaning down to kiss the exposed parts of your chest, loving the way your tits look as they bounce from his hard thrusts. He uses one of his legs to hike yours up further, causing him to reach even deeper, and you both let out loud moans. While he uses one hand to hold himself over you, the other makes its way back down to your clit, circling it slowly with his thumb. He feels his thrusts becoming uneven as his release gets closer, but keeps up his movements on your sensitive bud.
“You like that, mi amor? You wanna come on my cock?” he purrs in your ear, which makes you nod desperately. You feel your legs start to shake as your third orgasm begins to take over. You look up at him with a desperate look, eyes hooded as you plead with him to let you come.
“Come for me, sweet girl. Let go for me.” His words are all it takes for you to let go with a loud whine, arching your back as you come around his cock. He feels your release around him paired with how you’re clenching around him, and it causes him to let go as well. You bite your lip as you feel his hot cum shooting up into you, and he stays buried deep inside of you until you’ve taken every last drop. 
Your body feels limp under him as you fight to catch your breath. He stays on top of you for a moment until he sees your breathing starting to slow down. He pulls out slowly, groaning at the sight of your mixed releases dripping out of your cunt. He smiles as you let out a soft whine, suddenly feeling empty without him inside of you. He then reaches up and undoes the cuffs, putting them on the bed beside you. 
He rests his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as it returns to normal, and he hums happily. You put one hand on the back of his head, and let the other rest beside you, humming softly, a dull ache in your wrists from pulling at the restraints. After listening to your heartbeat for a few moments and it’s returned to normal, he takes his head off your chest and looks at your sleepy form.
“Are you okay, mi amor? You sore?” he asks softly, running a hand down your neck to your collarbone. You nod slightly, a soft smile on your face, not wanting to worry him.
“A little. Not much.” you reply in the same tone, your eyes beginning to feel heavy.
“I’m sorry, mi amor. How about I run you a bath?” You close your eyes, humming softly at the thought. A bath sounds really good right now. He notices your happy hum, and laughs softly.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead, then starts to get up off the bed. You reach for his hand, whining softly as you shake your head quickly.
“Wanna go with you.” you whisper, not wanting to part from him in your hazy state.
“Okay, sweet girl. Come here.” he tells you softly, getting off of the bed and urging you to get up as his heart swells at your refusal to leave his side. 
You get up on shaky legs, and squeal softly as he grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. After so long together, you’re still trying to get used to the fact that he can and does lift you up. You wrap your arms around his neck as he brings you to the bathroom, and hiss as the cold counter touches your hot skin when he sets you down. 
He mumbles a quick sorry and gives you a quick peck before he goes over to the bath and turns it on. He walks back over to you and stands between your legs, his hands finding your wide hips as you wait for the bath to fill up. You lean your forehead against his chest, breathing in his scent, trying not to fall asleep as you wait.
Once the bath is almost done, his hands ghost up from your hips to your back, undoing your bra easily. He pulls it down your shoulders slowly and keeps his eyes trailed on your bare breasts. He loves you whole body, but your tits are one of his favourite things. He hums softly before tearing his eyes away from your figure, then goes to shut off the water. 
He helps you off the counter and guides you to the bath, sitting behind you and helping you sit between his legs. You lean back against his chest, sighing softly as the warm water runs over your skin, closing your eyes. 
He lets you relax for a few minutes, fingers running up and down your arms before he taps your back gently, whispering in your ear to sit up, that he’s going to wash your hair. You scoot forward as far as you can and lean back so your hair can get wet. 
He grabs the shampoo while you do this and puts some in his hand, lathering it and putting it in your hair once you sit back up straight. You sigh softly as his fingers touch your scalp, eyes closing again as he works on your hair. He puts his hand on your shoulder once he’s done, silently signaling you to scoot forward again. You oblige, leaning back and letting him wash the shampoo out of your hair, careful to keep the water and shampoo out of your eyes. He repeats his actions with the conditioner, then tells you to stand up softly.
You do, and he does the same, then lets the water out of the tub. He turns the shower on and lets it run down both your bodies, letting the leftover suds rinse off of you, then uses your soap to wash your body. He’s practically giving you a full body massage as he washes you, trying to convey how much he loves you, how good you were for him, how much he appreciates your entire body.
Once he’s washed both of your bodies, he turns off the shower, smiling softly as he sees that your eyes are barely open and you’re swaying gently. He wraps towels around both of you once you’re out and guides you back to the bedroom, letting you put on some comfy clothes while he does the same.
Once you’re both changed, he lifts you up again in his arms, making you giggle softly. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way your stomach flips when he picks you up. He brings you to the living room and sets you down on the couch. You pout when he walks away, whining sadly, and he stops in his tracks. He turns back and takes in your sad little pout. He smiles and shakes his head, walking back over to you and leaning down to give you a quick peck.
“I’ll be right back, mi amor, I promise. Aren’t you hungry?” he whispers once he pulls away, afraid raising his voice will make you more upset. He chuckles softly as you shake your head, and he speaks again. “You have to eat something for me, okay?” You sigh softly, finally nodding, and he gives you a wide grin before turning and walking into the kitchen.
He makes two sandwiches and fills two cups of water, then brings them back out to you. He sets them down on the coffee table and reaches for the remote. He urges you to lean against him, putting a hand on the back of the couch behind you as you rest your cheek on his chest. You watch him put on a romcom you’ve been begging him to watch with you, and you smile softly, feeling your heart swell. You should spend two weeks apart more often, you think to yourself. You take it back immediately after you think it. You know you would rather see him every day. 
“What are you laughing at?” he asks you softly, angling his head down to look at you, your eyes still trained on the tv. You shrug, mumbling a quick “nothing,” making him laugh softly as he leans down and kisses the top of your head.
“You’re gonna finish all of that before the movie’s over, yeah?” he tells you sternly as the movie starts, motioning to the sandwich and water on the table. You nod again, rolling your eyes at his insistence, but you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face at his protectiveness.
You spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with him, dozing off rather quickly after you finish your sandwich and water, but he stays still, taking in your steady breathing and soft body pressed up against him with a soft smile.
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BIG OL HECKIN EDIT:
I am a dum dum who forgot how to spell @sassenach-on-the-rocks amid my existential terror and dread of the deleted-draft incident mentioned below, and then did a Dum Dum no Double-Down by forgetting to update until now. This headcanon is their brainchild and they deserve all the credit for it.
You may now continue with your previously intended brainrot viewing.
I'm VERY INCREDIBLY MIFFED, MY GUYS.
I had this entire post finished and almost completely formatted and saved it as a draft to finish formatting it on my computer
And it DIDN'T SAVE. And I nearly SCREEEEEMED.
It was for an ask request and I also can't seem to tag the person that sent the ask.
I am A N G E R Y
But after several deep breaths and reminding myself that violence is not the answer, here we are.
At any rate. The ask request was for headcanons involving One Piece boyos taking reader to a Masquerade ball.
To the asker, should you still be around to see it, I really really loved this and thank you so, so much for it ❤️❤️ I really enjoyed finding masks to match their aesthetics.
Only deviation I made was Zoro; you meet him there rather than going with him. It just felt right that way for some reason.
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And awaaaaaaaay we go~
The Masquerade
Sanji, Zoro, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x Reader
SFW Headcanons
This was really so fun and cute and I thank Asker so so much for this.
♫♬Little By Little — The Fratellis♬♫
You wear your mask, I'll wear mine, they don't come cheap but they fit just fine
You can be her and I can be him, and we can both sink while the rest all swim
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Sanji
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He heard about it when you made port, and there's no way he's not taking you.
He's been looking for an opportunity to take you on the perfect first date, and this is it.
Perfect opportunity for the two of you to get away from the crew for and have a little alone time.
A little dancing, a little wine, a little champagne—it's perfect.
Makes sure not to tell anyone else, if Luffy hears there's free food he'll insist on going and the whole thing will no doubt end in chaos.
He doesn't even tell you—all he tells you, after presenting you with a brand new dress and jewelry (which most likely cost him every last berry in his wallet), is that he would like to take you out for the evening.
And how could you turn him down?
"Come on, love. I promise it will be the best evening you've ever had."
The effort he's already put in, those puppy-dog eyes....
You spend the evening dancing, talking, enjoying the free food, every ounce of his attention on you the entire time as he ensures that you feel like a princess.
Making sure that everyone has their eyes on the pair of you on the dance floor, that they know you're there with him.
Somehow ending up chit-chatting with the catering staff toward the end of the night and being invited to their far less formal after-party.
Stumbling back to the Merry hours later together, half-drunk and giggling and positive that it's the best night you've ever had.
Zoro
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"What the hell...?"
He got lost and wandered in.
No idea what's going on, why are all these people wearing masks and dancing?? What exactly is going on this is weird as—
Oh hey there's an open bar, cool.
You recognize him from his bounty poster fairly quickly. There are a lot of marines here, and he really isn’t causing any problems, but he's getting a lot of strange looks...so you decide to do the guy a favor and shove a mask in his hands.
He looks at you like you're speaking another language as you explain where he is and convince him to just put on the damned mask already.
"A ball? I thought this was some kind of weird cult or something."
You just stare at him in disbelief—he thought it was a cult and he's just standing around enjoying the free drinks. 
What.
You brush it off and tell him if he wants to fit in, then dancing is probably a good idea.
He's frowning at you again.
"Yeah, I don't really...do that."
You roll your eyes—there are still people eyeing him suspiciously, you have to do something, so when he finishes his next drink you just grab him by the wrist and drag him out to the dance floor.
Cue impromptu ballroom dancing lessons. He keeps stepping on your feet and mumbling apologies, but it's kind of cute how hard he's trying.
You really can't help but giggle at his explanation that he just got lost and wandered in here.
But you're glad he did—you doubt you would have had nearly as much fun otherwise.
Shanks
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Heard about the whole shin-dig while in port.
"Hey that sounds like fun, we should crash it."
You try to be stern, but he pulls out the puppy dog eyes.
"Oh come on please?"
God dammit....
And maybe an hour later you're both making masks.
There's glitter and glue and feathers all over the captain's cabin and you're already dreading cleaning it up.
His has a giant gaudy pirate hat. Because of course it has a giant gaudy pirate hat. He's so proud of it, grinning like a little kid in an arts and crafts class when he holds it up to show you, that you can't even bring yourself to admonish him for it.
And of course the whole thing is invitation-only, and of course he manages to sweet-talk his way in anyway.
Just having such a good time, really doesn't care if anyone recognizes him.
Really doesn't care, just drinking and making small talk and joking with several lower-ranking Marines in attendance who are clearly very nervous.
Within an hour, while you're in the middle of dancing and deciding that maybe this wasn't *such* a bad idea, an announcement is made for everyone to leave immediately.
Judging by the sheer number of Marines outside there's no doubt as to why.
He just gives you a guilty grin before picking you up over his shoulder and bolting back to the ship.
Mihawk
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Actually received an invitation, just rolled his eyes and tossed it in the trash.
You dig it out and pout about it until he rolls his eyes and gives in.
"Fine. No more than an hour."
At lease there will be free wine.
Unsurprisingly spends a great deal of time standing in a corner and sipping said wine while staring around haughtily at the other partygoers.
Would much rather be drinking wine back in his secluded castle and not having to deal with other humans.
Spends the vast majority of the evening standing in a corner and nursing a glass of wine while glaring around haughtily at the other guests, daring them to even think of attempting to make small-talk with him.
Doesn't move from his designated corner until he sees other guests daring to flirt with you, at which point he promptly saunters over to pull you to the dance floor and ensure everyone is well aware that you're there with him.
Lightens up a little after that (which may or may not have something to do with the several glasses of wine he's already consumed), but absolutely will not admit that it actually turned out to be a rather nice evening.
He will, however, hold this over your head and remind you that you owe him.
But you know the truth, considering he's a little more willing to attend such events with you after this.
Buggy
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Oh what now? An excuse to be absolutely flamboyant and unhinged in public?
You're going. Period. There will no arguments.
He's already got a collection of masks and costumes anyway, this is going to be a blast.
You lose track of him shortly after you get there. You're pretty sure that the explosion that went off toward the back corner of the dance floor had something to do with him.
He finds you while you're sipping a glass of champagne in downright annoyance and proudly informs you that he's made bank going through pockets at the coat check while everyone was distracted by his little diversion.
"Ah, don't worry, babe, they won't notice. They're too busy schmoozing and kissing ass."
Standing around making small-talk with other guests in the most ridiculous put-on aristocratic accent he can possibly muster, introducing you variably as some foreign dignitary or princess from a far off land.
Literally can't take this idiot anywhere.
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actual-changeling · 8 months
Text
Muriel isn't a child, they're not stupid or immature, and they CAN take care of themselves—with that, welcome to Alex's unhinged meta corner, hinged edition.
We need to talk about Muriel, so let's dive right in.
Despite the way many people depict them, they are the exact same age as every other angel, fallen or otherwise, and treating them as lesser because their mannerisms and expressions don't match up with what you think an 'adult' should look like doesn't mean they aren't one.
Not to speak of the ableism that's inherent to that kind of thinking, and actually, you know what? Before I keep talking, I want to ask you a question.
It is very common to talk about Muriel as a 'child of divorce', being 'adopted' by Crowley, someone 'precious' that needs protecting, and a lot of titles and concepts along those lines.
The question is: If, say, Uriel were in their place—sent down to earth after not being there for more than five minutes ever—would you still call him everything you call Muriel now? Would you treat him the same way you're treating them?
Would you see him the same way, and if not, why?
The question is, if any other angel were in Muriel's position, would you also infantilize them the way you currently do with Muriel?
Feel free to actually answer that question on my post or in your own, because I am genuinely curious about the reasoning, especially behind 'no' as an answer.
Heaven completely neglected them just like they did with everyone else, they were completely alone in a big, empty white room with nothing but a glass desk and presumably a chair for six thousand years—and probably even longer than that. Having someone ask them a job-related question every couple centuries doesn't even BEGIN to scratch the surface of their social needs.
When they came down to earth, it was the equivalent of one's first day at a new job, at university, at school, anywhere you had not been before but now plan on being for a while.
You come across others that have been there for twenty years and look like omniscient gods from your point of view; they run the game while you don't even know which game you're supposed to be playing. This is one of the reasons why they read as autistic to many, including myself, because that's exactly what every social situation feels like to me. That's for another post, though.
Of course they're socially awkward and easily overwhelmed! They were dropped off in a capital city after—and let me emphasise this once more—being completely alone for millennia.
The highest of the angels ordered them to do a specific job, like, fuck, I'd be having a nervous breakdown in the lift and curl up in a corner for a few hours because that thought is terrifying. Especially because failure is not something heaven accepts. Especially because they know what happens to those who disobey or disappoint in whatever shape or form.
When we see them, it is in that exact situation—talking to their bosses that they've likely never talked to before, arriving in a new world, being around new people, in a new environment, new everything. It always reminds me of this quote from Modern Family.
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Muriel was assigned a rank and job just like everyone else, and they deserve the same respect and acknowledgement for it as the Guardian of the Eastern Gate or the Archangels themselves. Muriel is probably really fucking good at what they do, they've had millennia of practice, but we simply never see them in their everyday situations. Give them some time and support, and they'll be up to speed in no time.
They are not a child—don't treat them like one.
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theladyofrosewater · 5 months
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I have finally gotten Laurance's character sheet to a point where I'm actually okay with the result. I'll probably make some edits later. Character notes and lore undercut also content warning for general shadow knight stuff
Feel free to suggest the next character to get a character sheet!
I was aiming for a swimmers or acrobatic type of build for him so I tried to give him wider shoulders. I'm going to be basing all of the guard characters after some kind of sports athlete so feel free to give suggestions for future guards like Katelyn or Dante
In my rewrite Laurance was nearly torn in half (yikes) in the Nether and Sasha had to stitch him back together. He didn't fully die but his heart stopped for almost a minute before Sasha restarted it. Hence he got turned into a Shadow Knight although a lot more human than most
Laurance is missing part of his leg in my rewrite as well as being partially blind in one eye and this is from Ungrth's rescue mission, which sidenote I'm very tempted to mix wyverns and phoenixes together in my rewrite so that Laurance still loses his friend but is comforted by the fact that he'll be back someday.
His leg prosthetic is actually part of his shadow knight form and as a result he can get quite tired if he's on his feet all day. Dante and Garroth commissioned Kenmur to create a decent prosthetic for Laurance but the group disappears before Kenmur can finish it. Laurance uses a wooden crutch when he gets too tired or has a day off. It's quite well made and carved with a wyvern script spell for steady balance. It used to be Jon's but Hayden gifted it to him when he left Meteli for good. (Also sidenote I'm making Jon and Hayden married in my rewrite just because I think it would be good storytelling)
Laurance has always been clumsy but surprisingly enough his balance only suffered a little when adjusting to his new leg, and he's pretty good at adjusting to the vison loss. He will however sometimes be an idiot while exploring and that's why half the time he ends up in caves or old witches hideouts when he's exploring
Laurance's natural hair color was that nice brown we all know and maybe love and in my rewrite he still dyes it to match Cadenza however becoming a shadow knight kinda mess with his hair and now when it reaches a certain point it kinda sorta just turns orange and while Laurance may be a flirt he doesn't actually care that much about his apparence, as long as he's in good shape health wise he doesn't care, so his hair is left long.
Laurance's shadow knight armor is actually quite different from a lot of other shadow knights as he's technically still living. Shadow knights that are fueled by intense anger like Zenix or were turned when they were still living have a lava like substance glowing in the cracks of their armor. Shadow knights like Sasha, Vylad or Gene on the other hand have "dead" armor that is just rock and maybe a few gemstones. Becoming a full shadow knight takes either your memories or a part of your soul and unless Shad gives an individual that piece back or they are too filled with rage their armor is dead.
His normal guard armor is a mix of nether metals and draconic steel, Aphelia got it from Zoey and gifted it to Laurance when he was sworn in as a knight of Phoenix Drop. It has an extremely high melting point so Laurance can hid his leg if he wants too or he needs to for missions but often times in Phoenix Drop he doesn't bother unless it's cold or raining or Phoenix Drop is on high alert. The leg produces some heat enough to singe fabrics but isn't a fire hazard unless Laurance wants it to be
Laurance used to have a lot of keepsakes and jewelry but they were lost in the Nether. but you can see on the casual outfit that Cadenza has been sending him new rings :)
His hair does glow in Shadow Knight form and yes he has been used as a nightlight/ light source before but on the bright side he got the codename firefly so it's not a total loss. also his teeth are stronger but not sharper as only some shadow knights get fangs and it's seemingly random
I imagine him to be almost 23 and around 6'2 but only because he has a habit of only walking on the tips of his toes as Cadenza made him take the same dance tutor their dads hired for her. In reality he's like 6 ft on a good day.
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very-lucky · 1 month
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I have been deeply obsessed with Fields of Mistria since it launched and I just entered my Second Year on my farm, so I decided to compile a list of some things that I like about this game a lot so far.
You can jump. Over fences. There aren't gates (yet?), but you can jump and this isn't a thing you can do in any farming game. There's even a jump attack that you can unlock. It rocks.
Townsfolk will tell you what they like and what other townsfolk like. They may even give you the recipe for their favorite thing.
You can never plant a seed in the wrong season on accident. And if you plant a seed in the wrong place, you can dig it up before you water it to put it where you meant to have it.
You can make all your tools FOR FREE if you have the materials and doing that has the chance to give them power ups (once you've unlocked that skill)
NOT ONLY TOOLS BUT ARMOR ALSO. AND ARMOR DOESN'T TAKE UP INVENTORY SPACE IF YOU'RE WEARING IT.
You can decorate on half-squares. Get into it.
The relationships you make with townsfolk and the heart scenes that you have might just change things about the town itself. Highlighting Ryis for this one specifically.
The whole premise of the game is assisting a town after a disaster and providing disaster relief while also growing affection for each of the characters and the town as a whole. You do big projects to help the town and the town improves and provides you, the player, with more resources and activities to do.
The mines have different biomes and enemies and resources and COSMETICS that you can collect. There's really no shortage of things to collect here.
All the furniture sets play together in a really nice way where you are able to mix and match the looks you like. They're definite sets of furniture and some of them even have their own unique storage chests.
There's so much deep lore that I'm so excited about. It almost feels like by doing what there is of Early Access, I am now waiting for the next chapter to drop so I can learn more about this world and characters.
Inventory stacks limit at 999?! For everything?? I’ve never had a stack that big! (edited)
Characters outfits change every season.
You can always tell where villagers are on the map
Since Mistria is MAGICAL you can also grow crops in the winter.
That dragon is going to be romanceable. If the rumors are true, we may even have TWO romanceable dragons.
All the characters are interesting on their own and have relationships with each other beyond you. They are always having different conversations and talking about different stuff that they do and that other characters do and that YOU DO. I love them all. No flops.
I'm really hoping for more depth in the passage of time as the game develops. I would love to see either 1) a reason for time to be at a standstill in Mistria so it makes sense that the child characters are not aging as you spend multiple years in town or 2) time to actually progress and for characters to get older, especially as marriage and children come into the picture. I know this is a stretch and not everyone wants something like that... but I really liked it in A Wonderful Life as a concept and I think it would be neat here.
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staybabblingbaby · 7 days
Text
Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2
[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]
Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?
Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.
Word Count: 4,218
Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.
Dividers by @saradika
Warnings: She/Her Reader
Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3
Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon <3)
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Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.
He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.
He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.
As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.
Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.
“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.
Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.
Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.
Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.
“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”
Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.
“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”
Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”
He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.
More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.
So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.
There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.
The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.
He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.
As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.
If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.
Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.
Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.
“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.
“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”
“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”
A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.
Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.
Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.
These days, he found great comfort in it.
He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.
“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.
“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.
“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.
“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”
Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.
“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”
“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.
“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”
Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.
Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.
When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.
He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.
“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”
“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”
Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.
“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.
Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.
Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”
The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.
By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.
They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.
Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.
After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.
It had been hard. It was hard.
And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.
It kind of made him want to cry.
He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.
That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.
“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.
“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.
“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.
“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.
“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”
Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”
“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”
Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.
"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."
Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."
"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."
"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."
"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."
The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.
"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”
“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”
“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”
“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.
“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”
“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”
Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.
“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”
He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.
Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.
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You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.
It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.
It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.
Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.
You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.
You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.
Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.
The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.
When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.
“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.
“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”
“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.
“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.
“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.
You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.
You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...
Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.
You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.
At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.
You know the important things, you think.
You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.
“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.
The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.
Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.
You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.
“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.
“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.
“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.
Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”
Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.
“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.
Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.
“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”
“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”
Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.
You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.
“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.
The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.
“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”
The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.
After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.
“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”
Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.
Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.
“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.
“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.
“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.
“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.
“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”
You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.
“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.
It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.
“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”
Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”
You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.
You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.
It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.
“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.
“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”
You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.
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Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000
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twisted-confessions · 3 months
Text
Y'know what, I'm feeling a little bored.
I don't really have much to contribute to the TWST community besides my writing skills and my editing skills so I figured I'd offer my services!!!
I love making Twst cards of my OC Isabella Haddock and of other peoples Twst OC's like @boopshoops Yuu Shi and Jocia Gains so I'm offering to turn your OC/Yuusona into different rated Twst Gacha Cards for you!!! You can send in an ask with your character and the full details listed below. I'll have examples of Cards and extra request details below the cut.
Please don't hesitate to ask as I have a ton of fun making them and can finish them in less than an hour so request as many cards of your TWST OCs as you want!!! Just make sure you read the details below.
WHAT I NEED TO MAKE YOUR CARD(S): - A full body pose or a pose up to the knees of your oc with a transp. background (if possible) OR -A headshot from the neck up I can paste it over an asset of the students outfits I have (credit to @alchemivich for asset files)
-What type of card it is (R/SR/SSR/Groovy)
-Their dorm (if fanmade, a logo of their dorm)
-The background you want if it's SR or SSR
-The name of the OC (I'll use google translate for the Japanese Kanji if you can't find it)
-Their outfit name (Eg. Tropical Wear, Dorm Uniform etc.)
And then we can go over finer details in a post thread or in a DM. If you don't have full art yet that's fine, just send the request when you do! I'll have these requests open as long as I'm free. Also, NO PRICES!!! I'm doing these for the free fun of it :). I'm open to art trades as a price if you want to make it even. Always love to see more art of my girl and her monster boys (Toothless, Grim and Stitch... the rest of NRC too lol-). All I ask is that if you post the card to please give credit to either me or my main blog @techno-danger
FURTHER DETAILS: Because of my obsession of sticking with Canon, I try to make the cards following their grades, for example if it's a School Uniform I'd default to make it an R card and R's don't have proper artistic backgrounds, only the patterned ones. If you do want to have a card that doesn't follow the grade system (eg. R card with a background, SR PE or School Uniform etc.) PLEASE let me know and emphasize that that's what you want.
R cards and SR cards go to the knees if they stand straight up, otherwise it depends on the pose you draw them in. SSR I'll try to fit the whole body in so keep in mind how you want your OC to look in your card. If you want a pose make sure to draw them in a pose, I'm not a miracle worker or an artist, I'm an inexperienced editor doing this for fun lol.
EXAMPLES: R, SR and SSR Cards of my OC Isabella Haddock (designed by the wonderful @boopshoops) and a Bonus Grim I did for fun to match her (RAMSHACKLE DESERVES A DORM UNIFORM DAMN IT-)
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Difference between a Full Body Pose and Headshot Only Pose (using @alchemivich's game assets)
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Custom Background (aka, not official TWST background assets)
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Jocia Gains belongs to Shoopy in her AU, The Creation of A Villain (GO READ IT NOW-). I made this card as part of a thank you gift to her however we don't have any RSA cards so using a background Shoopy gave to me for Bella, I made my own version of RSA's R cards, logo included. I can do this for your OC too if they attend a different school.
If you managed to read ALL of this, thank you so much! You get a secret slice of cake 🍰 I can't wait to bring your OC cards to life!! Have fun requesting!
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summeridols · 5 months
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How to make icons like these:
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Flags: Idol system, Bubblegender, Musicstar
Warning: This tutorial relies on the idea that you have some understanding of how to use photoediting software like photoshop, however if something that doesn't make sense then feel free to ask and I will explain it as best as I can.
All the icons we made for this can be found here! Thank you for reading, please consider reblogging this post and the icons because this took forever to write up and the icons take a LONG time to make.
In this tutorial I will make DID/OSDD Aoi Miyake icons.
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Anyway let's get into it!
Step one, choose what you're going to make (and gathering resources)
This may seem obvious, but going in with a plan makes these so much easier.
In this stage we consider three things:
The flag and/or colors we want to use in the icon, this is important as it can affect the images used or even the character depending on how similar their colors are
Character and the general colors associated with them, this is important as it can makes the filtering stage easier (or harder) and can make an icon look 'wrong' or 'right' sadly
The border of the icon and how that will affect the icon itself, sometimes they're easy to work with, others not so much. Our method differs from a lot of other peoples so we take more time with them than most others
In this case I will be making DID icons of Aoi Miyake from D4DJ, however due to how most of her cards have a blue tint I will be using the plural peafowl flag by m0dem0n than the original DID flag- This is to save time and make th icons look more harmonious.
We will also be using this mask by i'mjustchillinghere as the icon base
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Step two, coloring the middle image (optional step)
This is a lot of guess work and everyone has a different process for this. Essentially we're going to make a PSD that makes the image look better with the colors of the flag.
As shown above we have the flag and the character image, but they don't match completely. The rose and other blue accents are too saturated compared to the flag and the black is too black and the wrong blue hue, the eye could also be a bit greener and saturated imo.
What I like to do is open the image with the flag behind or infront, so I can see the colors I'm working with.
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Then I open the hue editor layer (Layer > New Adjustment Layer > Hue and Saturation). It's very important to clip the hue layer to the image so it doesn't start messing with the colors of the flag (we've had this happen many times before it's very awkward trying to match a color that keeps changing) to clip right click 'Clipping Mask'.
Your screen should then look like this:
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Okay so if you need to adjust the screen to get the icon in the center so you can see everything do this now.
Next where the box with the hue options says master, click it.
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These are all the color options you can change, in this we'll mostly be using, yellow, green and blue. For other projects blue and cyan sometimes get 'mixed up' and can control both shades so be careful with that.
Other color settings we personally use are: Vibrance and Selective Color (both are located under the Layer option), but in this case I'm happy to just use Hue and Vibrance.
This is what the icons look like:
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No color editing | Just Hue and Saturation | Hue and Saturation + Vibrance
Now your middle icon is ready turn off the background layer and save the image as a transparent png!
Step three, preparing the mask for use
So the mask is the base of your icon, however if you clip all aspects of your icon to the mask it looks like this and you can't see the flag.
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So what you need to do is layer the mask. This will vary in difficulty, it can depend on how far apart the pieces of the mask are and how they interlink. You could erase the border parts but that takes a lot of time.
This icon is simple because to me there's three clear sections, the middle part, the border and the rose. What you need to do is copy the layer three times and get the wand- I would reccomend having the wand strengh over 100 or else black lines may remain, but this will depend on how close the black parts are.
Hide the top two layers and work from the bottom up. Select all the areas you want to delete, in this case I can only delete the rose (the border is too close to the middle part and would delete that as well) and then hit delete.
In this case, I will just erase the border by hand, and then BOOM, you have a base!
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Hide this layer and move to the next, for this one I'm removing the middle and the rose.
For the next layer you can select what's in the layer below and delete it without it impacting the border, which makes the icon process easier, however in this case I'm going to give out the border layers for you here!
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Step four, using the mask
NOW you can clip the flag to the layers! We always clip it to the base and border layer.
As for the rose... We make a seperate layer and clip it to those rose. Then (using the eye dropper tool) pick colors from the flag to use to color it in! As shown:
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Next step is to add the image you colored!
Go to File > Open and Place and then choose the PNG from your gallery and place it in the icon. Once it's there fiddle around with it until you get the image you want and then BOOM!
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Now you have a singlar icon!
Feel free to repeat this as many times as you want and make as many icons as you want.
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All the icons we made for this can be found here! Thank you for reading, once again please consider reblogging this post and the icons because this took forever to write up and the icons take a LONG time to make.
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bingoboingobongo · 2 years
Text
task force 141 + stocking stuffers
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Type: Fluff, headcanons
Warnings: none
A/N: gshshhshd posted part 2 to the right thing to do today and now im writing this to help the anxiety
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kyle "gaz" garrick:
ok so i feel like gaz is a little bit of a nerd/geek
so he enjoys getting little figurines/action figures of characters from shows/movies/games he likes
think like funko pops
he likes to set them up along his desk in his room
and sometimes he pretends they're watching him while he works
his favorite candy to get in his stocking is peanut m&ms
he's just a fan of all kinds of peanut chocolate candies and i can't even blame him
peanut m&ms slap
in terms of getting things for other people
gaz always goes with a classic gift card
he will, however, make sure that the gift card matches with their favorite store
john price
price's favorite thing to get in his stocking is puzzle books
crossword puzzles, word searches, sudokus, riddles, etc.
anything and everything puzzle based he loves
he likes bringing them with him on missions when he has a spot of free time
they're relaxing to him and they keep his mind young
he's also insanely good at doing puzzles
but he's also had years and years of practice
he also got to go on npr and play the puzzle with weekend edition puzzle master will shortz a few years back
he also did really well and so now he never shuts up about it
whenever he pulls out his puzzle book it's followed by a comment about his time on npr
in terms of what he likes to get for other people he usually gets them candy
you know those plastic candy canes filled with different kinds of candy?
yeah price will buy like three of them for each team member and then call it a day
but of course he gets each team member their favorite candy
he also lets them get away with more stuff during the holidays
i.e. skipping chores, training, etc.
oh yeah i almost forgot this but price lives getting socks in his stocking
fuzzy socks, normal socks, thermal socks, patterned socks
he's really just a fan of socks in general
simon "ghost" riley:
ghost doesn't really have a favorite thing to get in his stocking
but his favorite thing is always whatever you get him
even if it's something stupid or small
one time you got him a customized pocket knife and he's kept it with him ever since
but usually he enjoys whatever little knick knacks people put in his stocking
and in general the stuff he gets are more practical then sentimental
and oml when it comes to things ghost gets for other people
ghost is actually insane at gift giving it's unreal
everything that everyone else likes? that's exactly what he gets them
part of it is because he's so observant he can always tell what people enjoy
and the other thing is that he's so good at reading people he knows exactly how they feel about the gifts they get
but like ghost is the kind of guy to get you smthing you mentioned back in january
and he always makes sure to get exactly what people want, even if it's super inconvenient for him
it's hard for ghost to be vulnerable and so giving these little stocking stuffers which are traditionally seen as sorta trivial lets him show everyone in the team just how much he loves them without making a big deal out of it
john "soap" mactavish:
ok before we get to soap's favorite stocking stuffers here's his least favorite stocking stuffer
soap
that's it
every year, everyone on the team gets him soap for his stocking stuffers
sometimes it's a bar of soap, sometimes it's three in one, one time someone got him a soap from lush (he actually really enjoyed it)
so every christmas season soap gets way too many soaps than he needs
usually he sends most of them to a local shelter and then keeps one for himself
now onto his favorite stocking stuffer
i feel like soap is actually an avid collector of lighters
but not normal lighters like novelty lighters
so like lighters with cool colored flames or cool shapes
everyone on the team knows about his collection so they're always on the lookout for cool lighters when they're on missions
so as a result he has a ton of lighters from like all over the world
i think the funniest thing is he doesn't even use them
sometimes he'll light a cigarette with them or fiddle with them but for the most part he keeps them in his room
he's very protective of them though and he doesn't let anyone use it without permission
rodolfo "rudy" parra:
rudy's favorite thing to get in his stocking is mini lego sets
and yes he like big lego sets for his actual gifts too
he's liked legos ever since he was a little kid so it only makes sense
he likes getting the mini holiday sets but he also likes getting those minifigure sets where you try and get all of the characters
he also composes a year long list every year of sets that he wants
he really likes the lego technic car sets too
in terms of what he gets other people
he'll usually make something homemade for them
like cookies or smthing
and then he makes key chain minifigures of them and puts them in their stockings
and they're like surprisingly accurate
it's very very cute
most team members keep them on their key rings or in their bags
he makes new ones every year and he'll even custom make faces and clothes to make them accurate
alejandro vargas:
alejandro's favorite thing to get in his stocking are hygiene products
i know that sounds weird but lemme explain
by hygiene products i mean grooming stuff, face masks, etc.
i feel like alejandro is the kind of guy who isn't scared to pamper himself and take care of his skin/body
so whenever christmas comes around he always asks for skin care/hair care stuff
he always tries to get the rest of the team to join him and he can usually get most of them on board
all of them except ghost of course
but soap, rudy, price, gaz, and him will always have a spa day/hair day after christmas
when it comes to getting other people stuff alejandro likes getting them skincare too
this way when they have their spa day everyone has facemasks and hair products, etc to use
nobody knows how but alejandro is actually really good at knowing what kind of skin everyone has
and he always gets them products aligned with their skin
but along with skincare he also gets everyone cash for the stockings
usually around $25-$35 for each person
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allisluv · 22 days
Note
lucy gray comforting you through a panic attack 🤍
content warnings: anxiety, detailed description of a panic attack and the guilt that is sometimes associated with them. not proofread or edited
word count: 600
As the market comes into sight, you feel your anxiety reaching new heights. Normally when you feel on the verge of a panic attack, you remove yourself from the situation that's causing stress until you're ready to go back in, but that’s not an option right now, so you power through and hope it holds off until you're out of the public eye.
Lucy Gray’s first stop of the day is to a stall that sells jewellery. Balancing a dainty gold chain on her index finger, she holds it against the dip in her neck. “What do you think, sugar?”
You smile and squeeze her hand to let her know that you’re listening, even though there’s so many thoughts being tossed around in your head that it's almost impossible to think straight. "It’s goregous. Suits you, too.” You tug on the collar of your sweater, desperately looking for a way out.
Lucy Gray hangs the chain back on the mannequin’s neck before drifting to another stall and then another as you struggle to keep up.
You can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and you try to take deep breaths. A passing customer shoulders their way past you and thats the straw that breaks the camels back for you.
In one swift motion, you pull yourself free from Lucy Grays grip and tear off down the street, moving away from the hustle and bustle of the market.
The traitorous sting of tears pool in your eyes as you collapse to the floor in a heap, leaning against a tree trunk for support.
Lucy Gray must run from the marketplace because in a matter of seconds, she’s there, crouching down in front of you and cupping your face in her calloused palms. "Can you talk to me, honey?"
You shake your head, grasping your chest and ignoring the salty taste of tears. "I can't-- I can't breathe."
"That's alright," Lucy Gray's tone is soothing as she places one of your hands over her heart. You can feel the material of her blouse crinkling under your fingertips. "Feel my heart beating? Now, I want you to try and match my breathing, you think you can do that for me, sugar?"
You nod, gripping her other hand like it's your only lifeline. She sucks in a breath and holds it for three beats before blowing it out. You try your best to copy her but your panic gets the better of you and sends you into a fresh wave of hysteria.
"Look at me sugar," Lucy Gray instructs softly. Prying your eyes open, she rewards you with a small smile. "That's it. You're doing so well. Try it for me one more time."
She repeats the breathing techniques and you follow suit to the best of your ability. Lucy Gray holds your hand the entire time and doesn't let go until you've stopped hyperventilating.
Hiccupping, you wipe your damp cheeks with the back of your sleeve as Lucy Gray traces soothing circles into the skin on the back of your palm. "I'm sorry I ruined our day out," you sob.
Lucy Gray clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shakes her head. "Don't start that, sugar," she chastises. There's no bite behind her words. "You didn't ruin anything. It's been a long day all'round. We should go home." She can tell you feel guilty, so she knocks her shoulder into yours and helps you to your feet, a steadying hand on your bicep. "I've got some new songs I wanted to show you if you're up to listening to them."
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purplesaline · 4 months
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(Edit** Apparently I spoke too soon! We now have a potential applicant that looks like it will be a good fit but I'll leave this up just in case it falls through)
Can you believe this little boi is still available? He's looking for work as a service dog and is willing to move anywhere (even out of country like his brother Sirius!) to make his dream come true.
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He's gonna be a larger lad so would even be an excellent fit for mobility work as well as psych or medical alert. His great Uncle learned how to detect cortisol spikes all on his own so being a POTS alert dog is in this boy's genes!
Did you know that in Europe smooth collies have been used for Alzheimer Assistance Dogs? Collies, both smooth and rough, have a natural inclination for something called intelligent disobedience, which is a very valuable trait for some types of service work, like Alzheimer Assistance, because it isn't something that can be trained. A dog either has it, or doesn't.
Intelligent Disobedience is when a dog knows it's job so well it understands when it needs to choose to disobey a cue being given because it would prevent the dog from doing it's job. A great example of this is a guide dog refusing a forward cue because the street isn't safe to cross yet. Of course, not all collies have this trait but a lot of them do! (Lance among them)
If you're looking for a service dog who is calm, steady, affectionate, easy to train, smart, and likely to be in the 60-75lb range feel free to reach our and we can see if you'll make a good match
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darkshrimpemotions · 2 years
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Jensen on Destiel
Okay! So we're always getting "Jensen doesn't like Destiel and said it wasn't real one time years ago" thrown in our faces by bitter no-lifes who can't just let other people enjoy things. So I thought it'd be fun to compile a list of all the times Jensen talked positively about Dean and Cas's relationship!
Right now it's just a list of things I remember from being in this fandom since 2011. Eventually I will add links to sources, video sources wherever possible. Watch this space!
(Also, if there's something that isn't referenced here, feel free to reblog or reply and I'll add it to this post! I want to grow this post as big as possible so we can always remind ourselves how little the one or two comments antis constantly reference actually matter, especially given how much of this comes after those comments were made, indicating Jensen has long since changed his mind.)
Straight from the Jackles Mouth
Jensen talking about Dean and Cas's relationship and how important it is to Dean.
"Dean has no taste, clearly."
"What are you looking forward to tackling this season?" "Cas."
Jensen talking about the confession scene, Castiel's goodbye, and he, Misha, and Dick improvising the handprint.
Jensen talking about he and Misha watching and sharing fan reactions to the confession.
Jensen talking about asking a crew member to film the confession on his phone so he can remember it as Jensen and not only as Dean.
Jensen talking about a lot of his reaction being cut out of the confession scene's final edit.
Talking about Dean and Cas's relationship transcending human understanding (yes I do count this, he was trying to do damage control after Jared's homophobic rant).
Saying Dean wasn't making any decisions in the confession scene, which emphasizes that Dean was not rejecting Cas by not being able to say anything back in the moment.
Saying after Cas was gone Dean was thinking "I didn't give him anything. I should have said "I love you, too."
Saying if s15 Dean (who was LITERALLY SO MAD AT CAS HE COULDN'T LOOK AT HIM for half the season) could give s4 Dean any single piece of advice, it'd be to keep the weird angel around because he'll be the best friend Dean's ever had.
Talking about Dean and Cas's reunion and how he hopes we'll get to see it someday. It would be a big hug and then "can we talk about that good-bye a little bit?"
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Fan Encounters
"I live it" in reference to Destiel fanart and calling Destiel kissing art the paparazzi shot.
Signing Destiel fanart, switching his pen to match Misha's where he'd already signed it.
Choosing the Lovers tarot card for Destiel
CasDean 4 Lyfe photo op
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howtofightwrite · 1 year
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Greek fire was an extraordinary specific weapon found in a particular time and region, naval combat was primarily an afar of rams (in the medaterriaan with its oar powered vessels) and armed roaring ie: getting as close as possible and just swarming onto your opponents boat to fight in melee, with some archery and whatnot. One of the sucesses of the eventual roman navy was perfecting a sort of boarding ramp to quickly put their troops on an enemy ship
Furthermore, in later periods, there are accounts of skirmishes in the atlantic between rival fleets. In which case the fore and aftcastles on the cogs are used as platforms to post archers and men throwing rocks and iron bars down on opponents ships while others boarded (hence why their called castles and elevated). Theres at least one account (I forgot of which battle) in which an English king boarded an enemy ship then abandoned his own as it sunk.
So, free advice, if you want to remain anonymous, you probably should make sure that both asks go through as anon. Though, I'm pretty sure Tumblr's extended ask length would have let you drop both paragraphs into it. Worst case (and I do realize I'm a poster child for looking like I ignore this advice), but when you run into a word (or character) limit, it's usually a good idea to start editing and trimming down the length until the system accepts it in a single pass. Splitting an ask into multiple parts is an excellent way to lose part of a question, or just make sure it never gets answered in the first place. Cut everything you don't absolutely need.
Either way, I'll err on the side of caution and answer the anon response to preserve your privacy.
I thought I made it clear that Greek fire was a much later invention. It's actually a little frustrating, because you'll see poorly researched history articles which will straight up make it sound like Greek fire was used during the Peloponnesian War. Which, yeah, no. A lot of the major Hellenic wars we think of today were around the 5th century BCE, while the invention of Greek Fire was over a thousand years later.
While you were talking about Greek fire in particular, what you said applies to a lotof weapons throughout history. When we're talking about something like the rapier or the claymore, those are weapons from very specific points in time. It's something to think about when you're mixing and matching technologies to create a fantasy world. No weapon exists in a vacuum, and they all develop as responses to the state of warfare around them. This doesn't mean you can't mix and match pieces you like, but it is something to be conscious of.
While it is outside the scope of the original question (because it's a firearm), one of the more amusing weapons from the age of sail were actual gun blades. These would be musket (usually a pistol), with a cutlass blade mounted under the barrel. (There were also examples that mounted an axe head under the barrel.) The intention was to be able to use the firearm during boarding actions and then switch over to using it as a melee weapon rather than reloading. The design was fundamentally flawed, the weight distribution was poor for a blade, and the (relative) mechanical complexity of the early firearms meant those components were too fragile for serious use. But for a couple decades in the 17th century these things saw limited use.
Now, I do need to give serious credit to A Number of Hobbies, who came back with a trio of fantastic reference articles. Naval Combat Strategies from Shadyislepirates.com, Choosing Naval Tactics for Your Pre-Gunpowder World from Mythcreants.com, and The First Punic War: Audacity and Hubris from the U.S. Naval Institute. So, if you're still wanting more information, those are all excellent resources to check.
-Starke
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