#types of packaging tapes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wlwloverwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Discrete Packaging

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Warnings: vaginismus, mentions of pussy jobs, use of sex toy (cock ring, fleshlight & wand vibrator), no penetrative sex, breast play, pet name (princess), overstimulation, thigh fucking, smut (18+)

Summary: Ready to try something new, you order some helpful toys and play with Logan.

A/N: shout out to people with vaginismus or just really tight pussies, yall gotta be one of my favorite genders! (Joking tone)

No pressure to read, just tagging some of my favorite writers for Logan: @moonlight-prose @joelsgoldrush @eupheme @inkedells @superhoeva @ozarkthedog @gh0stsp1d3r

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS

The mansion’s hallways are lonely. So lonely, your footsteps echo as you climb up the stairs in search of your Logan’s bedroom. Three sharp knocks on the door serve as a warning before you twist the knob open and walk into the spacious room.

“You know, it’s so unfair,” you call out, making sure to lock the door as you make your way to the bed. You pout before continuing, “Your room is so much bigger than mine.”

“Perks of being a sub,” the voice of your mutant boyfriend calls out from the private bathroom.

Fresh out of the shower, Logan’s hair drips onto his bare shoulders. Loose strands of hair fall on his forehead as he uses the towel thrown over his should to dry the rest of his hair. A pair of dark sweatpants hang low on his hips as the tangled drawstrings fight to keep the thin fabric from falling down.

Your eyes are glued on him as he makes his way to you, sitting on the edge of his bed. The familiar smell of his shampoo fills your nostrils, the scent only getting stronger when he stands between your split knees. A smile creeps on your face when his hand gently tilts your chin up to face his towering figure.

Rough hands find your cheeks. Logan’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip and taps it when your eyes find his. His eyes are soft then closing as he leans down to press an innocent kiss on your lips, a ritual hello.

“Hi, Princess.”

A smile creeps up your face as you mumble your hello back. You reach for another kiss, but Logan twists away from your hold, the hands that found themselves playing with the drawstrings of his sweats fall.

“Got a package,” he states, handing you a bulky box.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as you stare at the box sealed with a bright pink label reading an itemized list. Big, bold vulgar words paired with your full name make you cringe. Nervous eyes then find Logan’s amused ones staring down at you.

“They said they had discrete packaging,” you whine with shaky hands raising the box to one of Logan’s fists.

The sound of his claw extending and retracting is sharp. In one blink, the pink tape seal is broken.

“Just be glad it was me who got the package. Could you imagine if Charles-”

You jerk your knee, hitting Logan’s before he can finish his sentence. He only quiets downs when he sees what’s inside the box. A clear double-orifice and spongy-like sleeve stares at Logan as you pull out three other items out of the box. A small bottle, no doubt some type of water-based lubricant, a black silicon ring, and bulky device with a mushroom head and long charging cord attached.

“They are supposed help,” you mumble shyly as you discard the box beside you.

Reflecting on your failed attempts at having sex with Logan you remember nails digging into his biceps, hissing his name, and begging him to stop when the tip of his cock tries to shove itself inside you. Trying hard to ignore the flashbacks of the burning sensation that lingers between your legs after Logan’s pulls away as he apologizes profosely.

Even when you tried again a couple weeks later, you remember Logan’s painful groans when your walls spasm and squeeze uncontrollably around the head of his cock.

Because of these past experiences, penetrative sex has never seem like an option, hence the purchase.

“What’s that?” The question falls past his lips before he can stop it. His eyes glued to the toy you have in your hand, the sleeve only slightly bigger than your fist.

Throwing the toy aside and making a mental note to clean them, you stand up and wrap your hands around his waist, fingertips tugging on his elastic waistband. Looking up at him with a smile, “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow never came.

Logan got called to a mission, so days turn into weeks and the unpackaged, washed toys sat untouched in his top drawer.

So that’s how you find yourself in the middle of Logan’s bed, breathing in his lingering scent.

Hugging his pillow to your chest, tangling your bare legs in his sheets. Your night shirt clings onto your body, nipples pebbling through the thin material. Your sleep shorts failing to cover your ass when you stretch your leg over Logan’s second pillow. You try your best your best to ignore the heat between your thighs and let sleep take you.

Even in your sleep your mind wanders back to the time Logan suggested to try something new, reassuring you that he wouldn’t hurt you. His firm hands manhandling you so your legs are thrown over his shoulders as he grind his cock over the thin material of your underwear.

Remembering the way he cursed your name and teased you for soaking through your panties. The soaked material clinging onto your lips allowing Logan’s leaking cock to rub against your clit. His arms that hold his weight caged you in, his forehead pressed against yours as you breathe out his name.

Recalling how you bit your lip to stifle your moans every time his cock bumped on your clit, lifting your hips to chase your orgasm. With his lips on yours, you cried against his mouth as you came, further soaking your panties. It wasn’t long after that Logan groan out your name and spilled onto your panties making them all sticky.

With a loud huff you blink your eyes open. Throwing the bedsheets off your sweaty body and gasping when you see a dark figure by the door that’s getting closed shut.

“Logan?”

“It’s me, Princess.”

Still sleepy, you stand on your knees, reaching your arms out for him. Instinctively, his legs carry him to you, hands grip your waist, and lips kiss yours.

His ritual kiss isn’t soft nor sweet. Instead it’s desperate and harsh, almost bruising.

Groaning into your mouth, his teeth find your bottom lip, demanding you to let him in before his tongue is exploring your mouth. One hand on your waist, the other is cradling your face pulling you impossibly closer to his frantic lips.

“Missed you so much ,” you almost whine between kisses. Tugging that the roots of his hair, his lips now trailing over your jaw.

He groans into your neck, inhaling your scent. His mind wanders back to the way his body missed you when he was gone. Waking up with an achy cock which led him to spitting onto his palm and kicking off the sheets. During his late nights, he painted the shower walls with the loud curse of your name.

“Missed you more.”

Pulling away, you laugh when Logan frowns. Bare feet hit the cold wood floors as they take you to Logan’s nightstand. His eyes fail at following your curious hands, instead they focus on the skin peeking from your booty shorts as you bend over.

The sight of you bent over, the thin cloth doing a half-ass job in covering your pussy, has him shamelessly readjusting himself in jeans. He wants nothing more than to tug your shorts to the side and lick you up. Distracted, he misses your request to lie down.

“What’s that, Princess?” He asks softly, eyes still glued to your ass.

This time you’re on your hands and knees, a wire in one hand as the other holds your weight as you look for an outlet. A blind hand repeatedly misses the outlet you swore was just there. Dropping the wire, angling your head to see the outlet before trying again.

“Can you lie down for me and close your eyes?” Your voice comes from under the bed as you finally find the outlet and plug in the toy you’ve been wanting to try for months.

Blood rushes to your head when you stand back up, a wand vibrator in one hand as the other one digs for more in Logan’s top drawer. Curious eyes watch you as Logan kicks off his boots, tugs his shirt and denim jeans off. Lying on the bed, his lashes kiss his cheeks as he waits patiently for you.

The bed dips as you kneel your way over to Logan’s body. The muscles in your inner thighs stretch as they widen to accommodate his thighs. Instinctively, Logan’s hand find your waist and with his precision, you’d think his eyes are open.

The mushroom-tipped device rests by Logan’s steady arms as you sit the stretchy ring on his rising chest. Lastly, you place the clear toy, the one you’re most excited for, next to the wand.

“Logan.”

He hums, his fingers run squeeze your waist, eyes still closed.

“Wanna try something.”

“We can try whatever you want, Princess.” He almost purs. Dark eyes flutter open and meet yours, filled with love and longing. He missed you.

You smile at his nickname for you, holding your weight with the hand on his chest before leaning down to kiss him. The kiss is sweet. Another ritual hello.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

Fingers dig into the meat on your hips as you shift over his body and reach for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. In no time, you’re back on his lap, tugging his underwear down, and smearing a drop of lube on the head of his semi-hard cock.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, smiling when you hear a soft sigh of your name. You stroke his cock, once then twice before you reach for the black ring resting on his chest.

Logan stares down at you, using his elbows to hold himself up. His stomach flexes as he watches you drag the stretchy, yet stiff ring over the base of his growing cock.

“Does that feel okay?” You ask softly, eyes glued to his glistening cock.

“Yeah,” he growls, hips shifting beneath you when you work your fist over the tip of his cock.

You can feel him grow in your fist, his cock throbs in your hold. Logan’s chest falls with each huff and moan of your name. His abs flex repeatedly as your hand works faster.

Sneakily, you grab the orifice next to Logan and position the toy above his cock. Eyes try to find his, but his head is thrown back as he groans and shifts beneath you.

Logan can only suck in a deep breath when the tip of cock is swallowed by the textured orifice. Logan’s moans only get louder at the tip of his cock peeks out the other end of the toy.

“You’re so hard.”

The praise goes straight to his cock as he shifts once more. His eyes rolled to the back of head. His desperate and grabby hands have now slipped under your sleeping shorts. His hands find your ass and squeeze.

Mesmerized, you watch as you repeatedly pump his cock, squelching sounds fill the room as Logan’s cock leaks uncontrollably.

“Feels so good.”

You giggle before shushing him softly, worried his volume would wake the others sleeping just down the hall.

“So tight.”

A pang of guilt hits your stomach but Logan’s lips are quick to find yours. His sharp nose bumps yours as the hairs on his face tickles you. The soft sounds of his lips kissing yours fills your ears, one of Logan’s calloused hands caress your face.

He smells like cigars, but you can still smell hints of wood.

His groans only get louder when you squeeze the toy around his cock. Your weight traps his flexing thighs, his constricted movements cause you to bounce in his lap. The image of you riding his cock flood Logan’s mind as his hip thrust to meet yours.

“Let me look at you,” he begs beneath you, lazily tugging at your shirt.

Slipping his cock out of the toy, you giggle when it slaps against his stomach, almost touching his belly button. Quickly, you slip out of your shirt, allowing for his hands to find your breasts. You sigh his name softly when he tugs harshly at your nipples. The act making them harden under his touch.

Distracted by your breasts, Logan pays no attention as you reach over him for the bulky device next to him. It isn’t until soft sounds of vibrations make him perk awake. You laugh at his face. Sweat builds on his hairline, his neck is flushed, and his lips are swollen.

Eyes fall down to his cock, the tip of his cock, angry and leaking. He stares at you as you let the bottle of lube dribble onto the mushroom head of the device. The white top glistens softly before the vibrating toy is pressed against the base of his cock.

“Fuck.”

The curse escapes past his lips before he can hold it. Hands massaging your breasts fall and wrap around your wrists. His grip stops yours from trailing the toy up to his leaking tip. Rather then fighting against his hold, you drag the toy down and press it against his balls.

The sound that escapes his lips has blood rushing to your cheeks and squirming on his lap. The squirming beneath you gets more frantic, almost as if he doesn’t know if he wants to run from or towards the vibrations. The black ring around the base of his cock strains slightly as his cock twitches again and again.

“I want-” his words are cut off by a moan when you shove the wand past his hands and onto his tip.

Claws threaten to peek out when you whine his name and call his cock pretty. The praise goes straight to his cock as he dribbles more precome onto the already shining wand. “I want you.”

Before you can ask him anything, firm hands find your waist and flips you over so he’s on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist as your heart pounds. The wand buzzes next to you as your hands caress his face. Lips smash together as his hips down to grind against you.

Most purring into the kiss, you take in how hard his leaky cock feels against your pussy. Your sleep short do little to protect you, sticky with your slick. Nails scratch at his back, painting pink lines that fade in seconds. Desperate hands pull at your shorts as he presses soft, wet kisses on your jawline.

“Want you to feel good.”

“But you can’t go inside.” You fight back pathetically, still you help him tug off your shorts.

“Don’t need that.” He reassures softly as he takes control of the buzzing wand and presses it against your throbbing clit.

Squirming beneath him, your nails dig crescents into his shoulder blades. Your thighs threaten to shut, but his large body stops you. Gasping when Logan finds a glowing button and ups the vibrations. The cord attach to the bulky device brushes over your sensitive nipples making you whine.

Another click reaches your ears and the vibrations get stronger. Subconsciously, your hand, similar to Logan’s, reaches down to grip the device. You don’t know if its because you wanted to shut it off or push it away, but Logan doesn’t allow for either. Instead his words send a shiver down your spine.

“Move your hand.”

His tone makes your hands fall limp as you have no choice but to moan his name. With a fuzzy mind, you reach for the clear toy and slide it over Logan’s cock. His grip on the wand falters causing the vibrations to travel lower. The unmistakable feeling of fear fills you as your muscles tighten. Your thighs trap Logan’s hips as your body subconsciously fights to cover itself. Embarrassment then floods your body as you shy away from his touch, you hate when this happens.

“Sorry.”

Logan shushes you with a kiss and pressing the wand back on your clit, a vibrating distraction. With a shaky breath, you fuck Logan’s cock once more with the toy. The sounds of his wet cock sliding in and out of the toy makes you whine. Slowly, your body relaxes and takes in the pleasure.

Your hand works faster as you feel your orgasm built back up and approaching fast. Logan takes in how your chest rises with each breath, how your free hand reaches to massage your left breast, squeezing as you beg for more. Quick to satisfy for your needs, Logan’s mouth works on your breasts. Sucking your nipple and letting it go with a wet pop. He presses wet kisses on your breast before sucking on your other nipple. Teasingly, his teeth bite at your nipple, the final straw.

Your mouth falls open as you let out a silent gasp. Your thighs shake as you gush over all the mushroom tipped toy, and over Logan’s leaky cock. The wand doesn’t stop, instead it’s pressed harder against your sensitive clit.

“Come on, princess, one more.”

Your head shakes no as your hands reach to pull the wand away. Logan lets you, but the wand is replaced with his cock.

The clear orfice is long forgotten as Logan hooks your legs over his shoulders and slaps his cock against your pussy. The wet smacks make you whine his name, your body jolting at every slap.

“So wet, Princess,” he praises, nudging the head of his cock against your clit. “Soak my cock.”

Your hamstrings ache when he leans down to kiss you, your knees now touching your chest. The stretch makes you whine and Logan groans at the new sensation of your thighs hugging his cock paired with your pussy wetting the underside of his cock. His eyes roll back, rough hands squeeze your thighs, closing them tighter.

For the last time you cry out his name as your clench repeatedly around nothing and gush on Logan cock once more. Your sweet moans push him over the edge and suddenly he’s moaning your name just as loud. Fingertips dig into your thighs, no doubt bruising them, as his cock spills all over your stomach and leaks on your glistening pussy.

You watch with a smile as Logan comes down from his orgasm. Sore legs fall to wrap around his waist as he stands on his knees. The look of admiration covers his face as he stares down at you.

“Did you like it?” Suddenly shy, you avoid eye contact.

Your eyes fall to Logan’s cock, watching as he removes the cock ring with an overstimulated hiss. The wand is still next to you, buzzing softly before you reach to turn it off. He didn’t know about your purchase, he only found out about the toys because the discrete packing.

“Loved it, Princess,” he approves softly.

With a genuine smile, you finger taps your lips twice, beckoning him for a kiss. Never has he made you feel like your condition has turned him off. Instead, he has always been the one reassuring you that penetrative sex is not necessary in your relationship, but you wanted to work on it he’s more than happy to help.

“Come on I’ll run you a bath,” Logan says sweetly, staring at you confused when your jaw drops.

“Your room is way better than mine. Can’t believe you have a bathtub.”

Logan smiles, pulling you up to stand on your feet as your name figure almost skips to his bathroom. Wide eyes stare at the other spacious room as you mutter a small curse against Charles.

“Only way to fix that is if you move in with me.”

“Might take you up on that.”

Please please please reblog!!! Leave a comment! Or send something nice to my inbox. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this fic :) Plus it encourages me to keep writing!

#i suck at ending fics #sorry :(#char: logan howlett #type: smut #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x you smut #Wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine x you #wolverine x you smut #X-men #X-men wolverine

629 notes · View notes

bridgetotheskyyy · 2 months ago

Text

Kisuke; Praise kink

a/n: the title for this was 'sweet things' btw! 18+ only. Praise kink, fingering, kisuke is weird and perhaps stalking reader lol. wc 2.5k bc i love my man

Kinktober Masterlist.

Your fingers worried the loose cardboard of the supply box in your grip. The lovely Tessai took one box after the other into the shops, Ururu and Ginta played and chased each other in his minute absences.

Mr. Urahara was nowhere to be found.

And it was a good thing, too; you didn’t think you could resist him.

Ever since you had started supplying his store with goods, he had taken every opportunity to lavish you with flattery, concealing his smiling face with the fan you wished you possessed to conceal your sheepishness in these moments:

“What a pretty woman you are!”

“Ginta, the lovely supply woman is here!”

“Of course, I can’t imagine anything being sweeter than your lips ~”

Damn your love language. Damn it.

But Mr. Urahara was never rude or vulgar, yet Tessai would often come around and chastise him for bothering you regardless.

But it didn’t matter; you ate it up. You weren’t a fool; now and then you caught glimpses of the gorgeous dark-skinned visitor coming and going out of Urahara’s shop. You were certainly not the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and you both knew it.

“I don’t often hear those types of things,” You admitted softly to him one day, cheeks warm.

“Oho no.” He had held you under his loving appraisal. “I don’t believe that.”

“Well, believe it,” You said, laughing nervously. “I usually get yelled at for delivering the wrong thing. The address is always right,” you shrugged, “and I don’t pack the boxes, so …”

“Oh, if only you’d deliver the wrong package to me,” Mr. Urahara said, leaning toward you. “It would mean I’d get to see you twice a week.”

Oh, god, help.

You anticipated each and every delivery to his shop. You yearned for the praise.

Until last Tuesday.

You had taken a chance to move one of the biggest boxes taped up to the tenth. I can move this myself, c’mon, don’t be a deadweight. And Mr. Tessai was always so kind, couldn’t you help him out just once?

You moved not one, but two, the last one prompting a drawn-out groan from you as you leaned over to drop it on the ground with care.

You stretched your back out, heard a crack or two. You sensed Mr. Urahara’s presence, heard those sandals. Clop. Clop. Clop. But for once you were too preoccupied with not being a nuisance to mind his proximity to you.

“That’s a good girl,” came his voice, husked and breathy at your neck. “Such a strong, pretty girl you are, moving boxes for me ―”

You did the worst thing you could possibly do in that moment ― you moaned.

“Hm?” You heard from behind.

You squeaked and startled away.

“M ― M ― Mr. Urahara!” You stammered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a sweet lilt to his voice always. “Did I scare you?”

“No ― I just, erm, aha, I’m going to be late for my next delivery!” You scurried back to your truck. “Bye!”

You didn’t miss the muted, searching look Mr. Urahara had given you as your engine reared to life and you drove off, thanking the gods you had closed your trunk before driving over the speed limit.

But despite your fears, Mr. Urahara didn’t show himself, and you were safe to hop in your truck and drive off.

It was only when night struck ― you got a phone call.

You stared at the random number. Normally, you wouldn’t answer calls from strangers, but you took a gamble.

Click.

“Hello?”

“Hello, (Y/n).”

You gawked, your phone nearly slipping from your hand. You knew that voice.

“Mr. Urahara?” You stammered. “I ― What ― How did you get my number?”

A silky laugh on the other line. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time, my lovely (Y/n).”

Whoa. Unease settled over you. Were you being stalked?

Another laugh, louder this time, more human. “Just kidding! Your number is on the side of your truck, remember?”

You blinked. Oh. Oh, yeah.

“Anyway, I called because I was worried I might have scared you off the other day” ― ruffling on the other side of the line ― “Are you all right?”

“Oh.” You sighed. You laughed at yourself. You let your mind get away from you. “No, it’s fine ― I’m fine. Really. I was just … having a bit of a rough day, is all.”

“Ahh, I see,” Mr. Urahara said. “Well, Miss (Y/n), I don’t pretend to know what’s best for you, but perhaps a day off is in order?”

You snorted. “A day off? What’s that?”

The two of you shared a laugh. Your shoulders relaxed. You sunk into your pillows and listened to the tapering sounds of his chuckles. He was easy, light, and it felt good to simply chat with the man after all the stress he had inadvertently caused you.

“I know, times are hard, aren’t they?” Mr. Urahara said. “You’ve been so good to my shop. If you’d let me, I would love for you to come over ― no business involved ― and allow me to treat you.”

You giggled. “That’s very kind, Mr. Urahara ―”

“Kisuke, please.”

“Kisuke,” You corrected. “But, I’m afraid I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

But he was such a sweet man, and you had a weakness for that.

“I don’t know how you would treat me, exactly.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t know,” Kisuke said. “Perhaps ― and this is just off the top of my head! ― I could treat you to a … massage?”

You froze. If this were a tv show, you were sure the record scratch would be playing right about now.

Impossible. No way you heard him right.

You were quieter for longer than you intended; your mouth ran dry as the beginning of a fantasy ― another one you did not need ― flourished. Kisuke’s large hands kneading into your oiled skin. Your breasts, the inside of your thighs, drifting ever farther south …

Stop. Stop. Stop.

“Haha ― hahaha.” Your laughs paired with a quickening heartbeat. “Mr. Urahara ― hahaha ― if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to proposition me!”

You waited for the man on the other land to speak, waited for the punchline, for the inevitable laugh track.

“...Guilty.”

…

Your phone would’ve fallen to the floor had it not been wedged against your cheek.

Oh no.

“I recognize this is awfully forward,” Kisuke said in that easy voice of his. “And if I’m going the wrong way to go about it, I apologize.” A subtle clearing of his throat. “But I like you very much, Miss (Y/n) … And I suspect you may feel the same way about me.”

You felt like you had swallowed a fish whole.

“Look, Mr ― Kisuke,” You corrected yourself again. “I’m ― I’m flattered and all ―”

Shut up.

“ ― and I ― I do think you’re very handsome!”

Shut up.

“― And I always like it when you say sweet things to me!”

Shut up!

“B ― But ―”

“You like it when I say sweet things to you?” You could almost see Kisuke’s brow lift through the phone.

You gulped. Kisuke’s voice had taken on a distinct purr. How could his voice do this to you? Any man’s voice! It was just a man’s voice.

His voice.

You admitted defeat. “Yes.” Your voice was a leaf in the wind.

“Hm.” More shuffling on the other land, and you were probably crazy, but it was almost as if he was … “You want to know what I think, Miss (Y/n)? I think a beautiful woman like you deserves to hear sweet things said about her every day.”

Your throat was dangerously dry now.

“I’m more than willing to fulfill that requirement for you. Come on over, Miss (Y/n),” he coaxed. “I would like to show you just how sweet I can be to you.”

Ah, fuck.

“I can’t sleep with a client,” You whispered into the phone, because this was apparently craziness you were actually considering. “It would be untoward.”

“And I won’t be a client, silly!” Kisuke said. “Didn’t you hear me before? It will just be a day between us, no business involved.”

You couldn’t refute him, and you hated it.

“C’mon,” he cajoled. “Be a good girl for me. Don’t you like being my good girl?”

You rubbed your legs together in a foolish attempt to temper the throb at your cunt, and only adding unneeded friction there.

“Like the day you moved those boxes for me,” Kisuke continued, the husk in his voice clipping at the receiver. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you. Hm? Pretty please?”

You hung up.

You panted ― panted ― and hoped you weren’t making a horrible decision as you abandoned your bed for your closet, keeping in mind to wear your prettiest panties.

“Miss (Y/n)!” Tessai greeted. “What a lovely surprise!”

You let yourself in, worrying the strap of your tote bag as you slinked into the shop and found it deathly quiet within. You looked every which way, looking for the infernal candy man.

“I was not aware we were expecting a delivery,” Tessai said pleasantly.

“There isn’t one,” You said. “I ― I came to see Mr. Urahara.”

“Ahh, I see!” Tessai said. “Well, it just so happens Ururu, Ginta, and I are going out for a day on the town!”

Of fucking course.

“I see.” You suppressed your fidgeting hands. “Well, Mr. Urahara and I probably won’t be long.”

“Very well then, you let me know if he gives you any trouble and I’ll be sure to set him straight.”

You waved Tessi goodbye and listened to the bell jingle in farewell.

Then you were alone. You browsed the aisles of candy displayed at random. You were fiddling with the wrapper of a gummy candy when ―

“I didn’t think you were coming ―”

You spun to see Kisuke beside you. You shot a glance at the door; you hadn’t heard it open, nor had you heard footsteps. How did he keep doing this?

Kisuke smiled, unfazed by your surprise. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Mr. Urahara ―” You continued wrinkling the candy, unsure of what to do with your hands, or, frankly, yourself at all. “I ― I should go, I ―”

“Aww.” Kisuke prowled toward you. He had a great bit of size and height on you; you were nearly face level with his open chest. “And deprive me of your pretty face?”

You bit your lip as Kisuke caressed your face. “I know you’re lying about all that. I’m not ― I’m not even all that.”

“I’m not,” he said. “And you are. Come on back and let me prove it.”

You don’t know how it happened, but before you know it the shogi to the back room was closing. Kisuke’s hands were disappearing underneath your shirt, his lips pressing kisses and devious words into your neck.

“Perfect,” he purred. One hand was unlatching your bra clasp while its twin tweaked and pinched at your nipple through a bra cup. His five o’ clock shadow tickled the skin just below your earlobe. “Just perfect! Would a girl not all that have such” ― he kneaded and groped at your breasts, barely protected by a bra gone limp ― “gorgeous tits? Hm?”

Your head hung back, coincidentally giving Kisuke greater access to your neck, greater opportunity to mark you with teasing teeth marks. Both hands palmed at your breasts now, sending shock waves through your person as his long, talented fingers cornered and bullied your nipples.

“Aah …” You bucked into him, too dazed to be ashamed, eager for his learned touch.

He had put you in such a daze, a maddening collusion of hands and lips and words ― the sweetest words you’d ever heard. Pretty girl, beautiful, so sweet, perfect, so wet. You blinked, opened your eyes; you were naked. When had he gotten you naked and why was he still clothed save his hat and robe?

And with the last iota of sanity you had left you wondered idly whether or not you’d been drugged before that too was taken from you by Kisuke dipping three fingers into your cunt with a drawn out, approving hum.

“Oh!” You could feel your slick coming over his fingers, though nothing in comparison to the sweet pressure of Kisuke’s digits. The intrusion burned. You bit your lip against the sudden pressure. Already his fingers angled upwards in search of the spot that would make you scream, render you speechless. “Kisuke, oh …!”

“So good for me,” Kisuke cooed. His fingers had found their target, and now their thrusts began and ended with your ragged g-spot. You cried out and almost in reward he left a soft kiss on your cheek. “See? You could’ve had this such a long time ago; in the future, let’s not deny ourselves things that feel good.”

Your breath was haggard, patchy. The world had shrunk to the thrust of Kisuke’s fingers. He had you in his lap, an arm wrapped around your middle while his other did its work. You held on to him, arms lazily wrapped around his shoulders, hips rocking into his fingers. All the while he watched you, stormy eyes flickering intently over your face.

“I bet you’d like to come now, right?” he said in a low taunt, thumb brushing idly over your clit.

You nodded frantically, nails dug into his shoulders as he chuckled. “Yes, yes, please ―” you bucked. “Please, Kisuke, please, your ― your thumb!”

“Hm? Oh!” Kisuke’s voice was hilariously casual, as though he didn’t have you sitting in his lap, fingers deep in your cunt, nearing your end. “I didn’t even notice that. Wasn’t trying to be mean.”

And without ceremony he brought his thumb to your clit and gave it the frantic attention you needed, incessantly flicking, rolling, his other fingers still entertained with your sopping hole.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Pretty girls get to come.”

Your eyes rolled back. Kisuke’s fingers refused to cease, instead speeding up. You hollered and began to clench down on them.

“Good girl …” Kisuke’s head dipped forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth and suck ―

“Fuck!” You quivered in his hold. The obvious imprint of his erection underneath your thigh only sent a second wave of pleasure through you. Kisuke nibbled on your nipple and the fight went out of you, forcing you to fall slack in his arms.

Your cunt continued to suck at his fingers until your whimpers bordered on painful. Only then did Kisuke have the wherewithal ― or mercy or both ― to remove them. Through heavy-lidded eyes you watched him suck the juices from his fingers.

“Hmmm,” he moaned. “Just as I thought; you’re right at home in a candy shop!”

You were still catching your breath, and witnessing such a raunchy display only took away more. “What do you mean?”

“Hm.” Kisuke smiled down at you, wiggling his now clean fingers. “Sweet.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kisuke smut #kisuke urahara smut #bleach smut #bleach x reader #bleach x reader smut #kisuke x reader #kisuke x reader smut

205 notes · View notes

cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 5 months ago

Note

meh why not. Honkai Star Rail X reader incorrect quotes when you have the time because I forgot you wrote for them.

I had a blast with this. Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons for reading these over.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Natasha: You need to stop drinking so many energy drinks. Seele: You're one to talk. Natahsha: The last patient who refused to stop drinking energy supplements after I suggested it died. Seele: Oh no. Natasha: In a car crash. You: That sounds unrelated. Natasha: I’m the one who crashed it. Do not disobey me.

You: Why do you two like being out in the rain so much? Screwllum: I like splashing in the puddles and rain is just fun! Ruan Mei: I'm trying to get hit by lightning for my research.

Sparkle: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Sparkle: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Sparkle: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? You: …This is Monopoly.

You and Asta: Madam Herta, help! We did a bad thing! Herta: Does it affect me? You and Asta: Not technically— Herta: Then suffer in silence.

You: Do you know a turtle's greatest weakness? Ruan Mei: How slow they are? You: No, their only weakness is that they can get stuck on their back. Ruan Mei: What if you taped two turtles together? They'd be unstoppable, correct? You: … Ruan Mei: … Ruan Mei: …I will be back shortly You: Ruan Mei, NO—

You: Died and came back as a cowboy, I call that reintarnation. Archeon: Laughs -Elsewhere- Boothill: I suddenly feel like strangling someone.

You: I need some help dealing with a problem, do you have any suggestions? Jingliu: Sword. You: Do you have any other suggestions? Jingliu: …Two swords.

You: Do you have any idea how many laws you're breaking on a daily basis? Silver Wolf: One? You: No. Silver Wolf: Two? You: No. Silver Wolf: …Is it one?

You: why are you following me? Kafka: because we’re dating now You: okay… what about the rest of you? Kafka: we’re a package deal Silver Wolf, walking next to the rest of the Stellaron hunters while burying her face in a game and Blade maneuvering her to avoid hazards like light poles: buy one idiot, get several free

You: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Firefly: Sure! You: What's your favorite color? Firefly, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Will you go out on a date with me?

Kafka: I love making short jokes about Wolfie. You: They go right over her head. Silver Wolf, standing on a step stool: Fuck you.

Blade, reading the note in the lunch packed for him by you and Kafka: the path to inner peace starts with four words Blade: not my fucking problem Blade: Narrows Eyes I think this one is for Firefly

Firefly, reading the note in the lunch packed for her by you and Kafka: Please, for the love of the Aeons, be good. We know your love language is acts of service. We also know your only skill is stabbing people. Firefly: Tilts Head To The Side I… believe this is for blade…

You: I love my personal space You point to the Silver Wolf latched onto your back You: this is Wolfie. Wolfie also loves my personal space.

You: Why are you smiling Blade? Blade: Am I not allowed to be happy? Kafka: Of course you are Bladie… It’s just that you being happy, usually means someone’s lost their life… or a limb.

Pom Pom: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. The Express Crew, desperately trying to avoid spring cleaning after the last "Incident": … Pom Pom: Choo Choo motherfuckers, come out already.

Stelle, waving at the crew as she steps onto the express after being splattered by a small army of stings: hello. Himeko: i- Welt: we literally saw you die. Dan Heng: you died. March 7th: you're dead. Stelle, shrugging: death is a social construct.

You and Stelle: some fools be like “I play games to escape my responsibilities” then pick tank or healer Welt: In my greatest fantasies I am able to help people Dan Heng: In my fantasies I can prevent people from being hurt, even if it means I get hurt in their stead Himeko: In my fantasies I don’t have to know how to aim March 7th: In my fantasies I control who lives and who dies

You standing at the top of the stairs: What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Ruan Mei: I accidentally fell down. Herta: RUAN MEI PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HER part of our rent! Screwllum: Ruan Mei bet me fifty Credits that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than she did falling down it, so I slid down the banister to get my money. Dr. Ratio: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and several galaxies away and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Screwllum.

You: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Ruan Mei: They do. Herta: …Why did you say that with such certainty?

Dr. Ratio, talking to You and Topaz: Well, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Aventurine do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. You and Topaz: … Aventurine: I know I should be offended, but he's not wrong.

Silver Wolf talking about you: How do you feel about Them, Firefly? Firefly, vibrating at a frequency high enough to shatter a glass: I love Them a normal amount.

You and the Stellaron Hunters sitting in jail together You: So who should we call? Silver Wolf: I’d call Blade, but I feel safer in jail

You: When do you usually go to sleep? Blade: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the Aeons. Kafka: My body will pass out when it's ready Kafka and Blade: high five You: angry staring (edited)

Firefly: Good News! The store had blueberry bagels! Bad news, the cream cheese died… or became more alive… It is the wrong amount of alive.

Tingyun, after being caught lying in bed with your shirt on: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. You: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Yukong: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? You: Peonies, why? Yukong: … You: Were you going to get me flowers? Yukong: … You: … Yukong, under her breath: It's a possibility…

Quingque: I owe you one. You: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Blade: walks in to see you and Firefly sitting on the couch facing away from each other. Blade: I know I will more than likely regret asking, but what's going on there? Firefly, gaming: They're having a fight. Blade, confused: Then why are they holding hands? Kafka, playing with her Cat: Fighting makes them sad.

Natasha: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? You, whispering to The Moles: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? The Moles: Because we have little hands. You: *Nods Sagely Before Turning To Natasha* You, with a smile: Its because The Moles have little hands

You, when Wildfire was just starting: Natasha, sweetie, the love of my life, all you have is a handful of impoverished shantytowns paying us protection money. We're basically slum lords.

Natasha: And what's the main rule we have? Julian: Don't dare The Leader Of The Moles, Dark Hook The Great to do stupid stuff. You: And why's that? Hook with her head stuck between two stair rails: Because I have no regard for my personal well being.

261 notes · View notes

keelt9 · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 1

Masterlist

The doorbell is already disturbing. I walked to the door and I could see through the camera a white napkin waving in the air. I giggled and opened the door.

“So you already visited mom, huh?” Lewis hugs me softly.

“It's so obvious?” I let him walk in, right to my mess. “It's actually happening, oh my god.”

I put my hands at my waist and see my apartment or what still makes it look like my apartment.

Lewis points to the big pile of boxes and bags next to the window. “This is for moving?”

“That's for charity or rubbish.” I point to the barely 5 boxes next to the T.V. “Those are mine.”

He pressed his lips together, seeing the mayhem in the kitchen, all types of food containers and a lot, a lot of boxes and bags split all over it.

“What have you been eating?” That moody voice tone exactly as mom.

I walked to clean the sofa so he could sit. “Pizza, Mexican and Chinese, healthy meals.”

I layed in the carpet tired as I heard him talking about what I should be eating; however he wasn’t speaking to me, he's on his phone ordering food, a healthy one.

He hung out, took out his coat and laid next to me. “Upside down?”

I scoff remembering what these 7 months have been, hitting like a thunder on my mind and heart.

“I had a life planned Lew, literally I was at 10 hours of walking down the altar, and look at me.” I raised my arms to the sky. “Now I’m packing, trying to move on and set a piece of life together.”

Lewis sighs but turns on a Bob Marley's song, “Three Little Birds.”

“And the job?” I laugh because I forgot to mention I already quit my job.

I see the empty walls and furniture, the frames piled in a box and the bag full of fragments of photos. Years in tiny parts.

I told my twisted life to my older brother, after a delicious dinner and random talk with Lewis, he walks and observes the boxes and suitcases.

“So all this goes with mom?” I forget I changed the moving date, but the new owners of the apartem arrive in 3 days.

I tossed my hair. “It’s the plan.”

Lewis makes a weird face as he sees all the wedding presents that friends and family instead I keep.

“Why don’t you send it to my place? I’m barely at home.” I stand up and walk to him. “I know you can handle it, but it’s easier.”

I see the present disturb him so much, and put it away. “Ok, not because it is easier, unless you find a job.”

I have money for living 3 months without worrying too much. However, in my to do list to find a job it's a priority.

“Oh, talking about that.” I shook my head and he put his hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me first, ok? I don’t spoil you, not that much.”

Both of us laugh.

“I’ve been thinking, you need distance from all this, and you and I have been talking about founding a refuge for dogs, right? So, here is my offer.” He used his poker face. “Prepare a proposal for the refuge, all included, convince me and if you do it, I set everything for we can put it to work. But I have two conditions.”

I bluff but I keep listing. “1. You will accept a modest pay for reporting your advances. 2. You’ll come with me this season.”

I roll my eyes faking a laugh, and walk back to keep packing, but he doesn't surrender.

“Come on, it’s a good offer. Besides, I need someone who’s to keep an eye on Rosco all the time and not be distracted for the race.”

I feel so proud of Lewis, however he knows I’m not anymore a huge fan of the formula one, less if he didn’t win, and Rosco doesn’t travel that far.

“Don’t use Rosco against me.” I turn around and a photo of Rosco is in front of me. “Hamilton!”

Lewis moved his phone in front of my face. “Think about it, ok? Meanwhile I’ll keep your boxes safe.”

I push him as he begins to close the boxes with tape. “It’s rude to use my love for Rosco against me, you know that?”

He smiles but doesn't answer and focuses on his task.

It's a bittersweet feeling how 6 years of my life now is packaged in 5 boxes, 3 suitcases and 2 bags.

T.V turned on, like always, mom is in her bedroom watching the first race of the season early in the morning.

I soft knock on her door. “Can I come in?” She smiles and pats the side of her bed as I laid down with her.

After a couple of minutes she finally spoke. “I’m proud, how you are handling this.”

I scoff and hide under the sheets. “Mom, I’m a mess, I feel like a mess and my life is a mess. Proud of what?”

Mom discovers my head and smiles softly at me. “But you are still fighting, believe that is more than enough.” Jewel appears under the sheets and licks my face. “A mess but a wonderful one.”

I smile and hug her as Jewel gets between us. “Thanks mom.”

The commentator said Lewis made an amazing overpass to Sainz and now is in the 5th place, mom splits and watches the T.V holding my hand.

The radio communication of Max appears on the screen along his onboard.

“Smart guy, a little bit not too friendly? I think.” I laugh and stand to go change my clothes for taking out Jewel.

Mom stops me at the door. “You have all packed?”

I nodded and Jewel was about to pass over my feet, sniffing my shoes. The 3 year old pomeranian, who is picky about his morning walks.

“Don’t be jealous young lady, those boys have my things, I must be nice.” The expression of my mom makes me smile.

Melbourne greeted me with a strong windy day, following the specific and detailed instruction of Lewis. I just packed what I could need and no one could get it for me.

We agreed that I don’t attend the paddock on the days of practices and the qualy day. I remind myself to focus on my job and I keep my nerves calm as much as I can.

At 5 am, I knew it Lewis knock the door of my room, three soft knocks follow by <It’s me.>

I opened the door for him, eyes half closed as he put a bag over my bed.

“I can’t believe I got you this.” I opened the bag and saw the t-shirt and caps I asked him. “The clothes are perfectly fine.” He pointed to the other bag next to my bed.

The day I arrived a bag full of clothes was on my bed, my issue is all are clothes style Lewis Hamilton.

I take out the clothes of Mercedes, black and white t-shirt and only black caps. “I’m not a fashionista, thank you so much.” Lewis scoffs and tosses my hair.

“Don’t be late.” He said leaving my room and sunglasses on. The sun didn’t even come out yet.

In the paddock I arrive in calm and walk right to Mercedes hospitality greeting all the people I know and someone who I was introduced to in the past days.

I stayed in there as much as I could, working and seeing the videos that are posted in the preview. After the ceremony I stopped working and walked where all the Mercedes crew used to watch the race.

Great race for Lewis and a second place, get all the team clapping and congratulating each other for the good work. I remind myself in the garage all the ceremony to keep far away from the cameras and reporters.

It isn’t like the old times anymore.

After the ceremony, along with the celebrations, Lewis changed his wet clothes. I met him in the garage giving him a big hug.

“So proud of you.” I hug him tight, before splitting and hugging him one more time. “Mom said this is for her.”

Lewis chuckles and sighs. “I’m so happy to have you here again.”

With the cameras focused one more time in the first place, almost all the garages are calm.

After I split from Lewis, someone got down my cap and hugged me shaking me side to side.

“Here is where you've been hiding, huh?” I recognized the voice of Bottas even though my eyes were covered.

I giggle. “Damn it, I should stay in the hospitality room.” Mocking Bottas who let me go and smiled at me.

Checo laughs and I hug him. “How long has it been?”

I didn’t even think about it, but there are few pilots who have kept going here since the last time I came to a Gran Prix.

Lewis sighs as both of us look at each other. “Pff, like, 9-10 years, more less?” I said winning eyes wide open from everyone.

“You were this tall.” Checo raised his hand to the level of his torso.

Bottas couldn’t let go. “No, no, this tall.” This time my height was at their waist.

I giggle. “Ok, I got it, I will say hi from time to time. I wasn’t that little.” I stuck my tongue out for them.

“Yes, you were.” Lewis sentences. “But, this grown up guys has been asking if it was actually you, the girl who has a strong resemblance and walks around the paddock or if it was someone else.”

“Turns out, it’s actually you.” Bottas fake a shock expression.

Their respective crews interrupt us, all still have a lot of things to do, so they say goodbye and make me promise at least I won't hide from them, the younger ones have to live with that.

Late at night, Lewis finally had time to rest and we went out for dinner. We chose a nice place with an amazing view to the ocean far away from people so we can talk in peace.

“It changed?” Lewis asked in the middle of our dinner. “The paddock, the atmosphere, all.”

“It’s been 10 years, Hamilton, of course changed, a lot of new faces.”

Years ago I was the little sister of a F1 champion. There were days where cameras were over me and made me feel…. some relevant, a proud sister who was grabbed at her father and mother's hands supporting his older brother.

Just I forgot that I was a little fish in a tank of sharks.

Lewis clearly understood the silence that followed by stirring answers.

“You’re right, things change.” Lewis careness my hair and smiles at me. “Remember it’s just a year, by the end of it you will be a brand new you at that’s what matters to me.” Lewis has this tendency of making me cry easily.

I sniffed as I laid my head in his hand. “Why do I have the best brother in the world?”

Lewis laughed and laid back a proud smile on his face. “What a coincidence! I had the same question.”

The no race weeks I spent in Newport in Wales where I plan to set up the refuge; searching places and an apartment, a few days in London babysitting Rosco and explaining Lewis my advances in search for some recommendation, but always I have the same answer.

One of the many things I love from the paddock is the Mercedes area; big black crystals all over the place, almost impossible to see inside but so easily to see outside, at the last level a rest zone where you can hardly hear the people from inside and the people outside hears and feels distant.

The race week in Azerbaiyan I allowed myself to go to the paddock for the sprint. Lewis finished in seventh place and George in fourth, so after it ended all reunited for the small meeting they had every time a race ended.

I go to work in what I called, the tea zone, with some peaches and my computer trying to brainstorm me, but I get stuck every time I start typing.

I bite the top of my pen and I close the computer at this rate I’ll have burned out.

I lay back my head, stretching my neck and when I sit down straight one more time I notice the top level of the Red Bull building is almost empty, just a single person taking a Red Bull watching his phone.

I go down stairs where I can see right to Tom, one of the teammates of Lewis.

“Still inside, huh?” Tom nods, making adjustments to his camera.

“Tough day.” He sees me. “This is a familiar thing, huh?” He pointed at the sunglasses.

I giggle while taking another bite of my peach. “We can say that.” I sigh. “I’m going out for a while, I’ll be back to leave with my brother, all right?”

Tom nods, after a month they learned one thing; Lewis, this time is overprotective of me.

“Use one of the markers so you don't get lost again.” Tom jokes about the first week I arrived, I got lost as I walked around the place.

At the end of the day, there was a lot of movement around the place, but what always calls for attention is the drivers. If you can see a bunch of cameras, people and one single color in the middle you find a driver.

I reached the zone where you can see all the garages, I stopped there trying to focus on and put an order to my mind.

“It’s weird for someone who isn’t that excited to have a car just a few meters away.” I don’t turn around hoping for my “I know” to be a satisfactory answer. “Almost all around here would give anything to be this close.”

Reckless I turn around. “I have other priorities, a different one. I’m here for who matters to me.”

“Then you should be with that person.” I scoff at the answer.

Mom, you're right, Max isn’t an easy going guy.

I stand straight holding my eyes on his totally not friendly face; curiously mad, that’s how I feel.

“I heard you could be here.” Checo speaks, still with his suit race at the level of his waist.

That’s what for the sunglasses, I can roll my eyes and no one knows.

“I’m not lost, I swear.” I walk to him, giving him a hug. “Such a good race, congratulations.”

Checo hugs smiles. “I better go, I should be in another place.” Checo narrowed his eyes and looked at my back. “See you tomorrow.”

I walked and didn't turn back but I could hear the conversation at my back.

“You collect mad Hamiltons, mate.” Checo said.

“What? What are you talking about?” Max raises his voice. I couldn’t avoid taking my time.

Checo makes himself more clear. “She is Lewis Hamilton's sister. His little sister.”

As soon as I arrived at the building, Lewis came out from the meeting, a kind of stress expression on his face.

I greet all the team with a smile as they let us alone in the hall.

“Tough one?” Lewis put his arm around my shoulder, changing the subject.

“Are you hungry? Let me change my clothes and we will go for dinner.” Yes, it was a tough one.

As we walk out from the paddock Lewis notices for the first time my camouflage actually works. Wearing a cap, t-shirt from Mercedes and jeans, combine with a hoodie or a jacket is enough for the cameras and reporters didn't even looked at me

In the car Lewis giggles. “I'm impressed. Good plan.” I giggle. “Smart girl.”

Our night is pretty lovely, nice dinner, a good talk and going back to bed earlier so he can be fresh for tomorrow's race.

One more time it was an early race, so by the time I left the hotel, news about his arriving at the paddock were all over the internet.

I walk in calmness at the entrance even when I see the world wide champion standing outside of RB hospitality. It's time for a second round?

“Morning Y/N.” Bono greeted me as he appeared next to me, head and papers in his hand.

Bono has been with my brother for years, supporting him, helping, being a friend, becoming family.

“How was the dinner?” He smiles and walks next to me as we get inside talking about our nights.

No, the second round must wait.

It wasn’t a good race for the team with the fifth place from Lewis and the seventh of George it's not how the team expected it to be.

After the race ends, I meet my brother in the hospitality room, I hear him so he lets out all that disturbs him.

“I left my phone in the garage.” Lewis let back his head. “Wait here I…”

I know he's tired of cameras and questions so I grab his arm. “I'll go. Stay calm.” Lewis pressed his lips together but didn't reply to me.

As I put my cap outside of the building I lost the vision in front of me until the incessant chattering made me lift my eyes. Cameras and microphones all over Max.

Same strategy, pass behind the cameramans who are so immersed in taking the best or worst side of the winner of the day.

In the garage I pick up the phone and walk back where Lewis has his eyes closed, headphones on.

“Where are those connected?” He laughs and takes his phone.

“I remember the songs.”

After a long day, finally Lewis is free to go. We'll take a flight late at night to London to go to a party of a friend of the family.

In the hotel lobby picking our things, we were talking about the time he has to learn to change dippers.

A few meters from the main door, Max intercepts us. “Lewis, you’re leaving?” Lewis and I turn around.

“Yeah, we have a small reunion with family.” Lewis stops and thinks for a second. “Oh, you don’t know each other, Max, she’s my little sister, Y/N...”

“We crossed paths before.” I said shaking my hand in front of Max, but Lewis noted the acid answer.

“Not that good, I guess.” Max narrows his eyes to me as he tries to see through my sunglasses.

One of the bellboys calls for us teeling our car is waiting for us.

“Nice to meet you Max.” I said politely as much as I could. Lewis giggled and gave Max a similar observation as Checo.

“Winning her bad side so quickly, another record Max.” I heard his hands crashing into each other, in a high five.

In the car Lewis giggles, shaking his head. “What?”

“What did he say to you?” I shook my head and threw at him a fluffy toy I bought for Rosco.

“Let it go Lew, let it go.” He took out his phone and taunted me as I put my headphones

“Just me?”

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton #mercedes #sir lewis hamilton

114 notes · View notes

2dmax · 9 months ago

Text

2dmax commissions info spring 2024

last updated april 12th

to place an order for a commission, you may PM me; if you prefer, you can also fill out this form or commission me through fiverr.

text and additional info below the readmore.

thanks for reblogging, even if you aren't interest right now!

Packages

These are excellent starting off points for most common commission types. Additional specificity and complexity can be purchased. All basic packages are artist's medium of choice, include simple backgrounds, minimal/no props. All include full color, fully finished works.

Standard Illustration - $80

Artistic and expressive "full body" illustration (roughly 75-100% of figure).

Mini Illustration - $50

Chibi, portrait, half body, icons, and the like.

Couple's Illustration - $100

A duo version of the above styles. Doesn't have to be romantic couples - friends, enemies, family, pet & owner, or other pairs and duos OK.

Multipose, Reference, and Group Lineups - $120+

For commissions that require either multiple poses of the same character, groups, more than two characters generally. Reference pages can include close-ups and detailed shots.

Experimental Commissions

18"x24" Handmade Poster - $200

artist’s choice of medium only. typically acrylic/mixed media. always on extra large poster sized paper. great way to celebrate your favorite OCs or canon characters!

paper clay figurine - $100

chibi humanoids/animals/ferals/anthros only. between 2"-3" cubed, give or take. armature wire, paper clay, paint, and varnish. these are delicate art items, not toys; not suitable for children. includes a photoset at no additional cost.

standalone comics page - $200

2-5 panels, 1-2 characters, 1 location. artist’s choice of medium only. can be OCs or canon characters.

wildcard commission - $???

submit your request and your budget; results are up to the artist.

pay what you want means get what you get!

here’s what to expect when you order:

Send me a PM with basic info; what you would like me to draw, your budget, and if you have a deadline.

I will ask a few questions to be able to build up the concept. I will also give you my e-mail, where you can send me further info and any references you’d like to share!

Your sketch is typically ready within a week; I’ll always update you on my progress. After we agree on the sketch, payment will be due. After it’s paid, I will give you an estimate for when I will be finished with your piece.

Your finished artwork will be e-mailed to you. I am also happy to mail physical art at cost!

terms and conditions:

Your commission is for personal use; icons, roleplaying, in your blog theme, as a wallpaper, or to print out and tape to your fridge. Commercial use can be negotiated.

You must credit me on the platform used if reposted. Always OK to post to ToyHouse; my username is 2dmax there. On instagram and all other platforms where I don’t have an account, please credit my instagram @/maximumgroove.

You may not use my art to promote anything hateful or illegal. You may not claim it as anyone else’s creation. You may not use it for commercial uses, or to edit, adapt, trace, or directly reference, without getting permission. I may use my art in my own promotional material.

➽ navigation desktop view ★ F.A.Q. browse my finished art ★ sketches ★ other media look at buyables & adoptables fan art ★ ttrpg art ★ flight rising art ask me a question ★ browse my archive visit my toyhou.se ★ follow me on instagram

#art commissions #artists on tumblr #manga art #manga style art #anime art #nostaligiacore #webcore #furry art #traditional art #digital art #artist alley

167 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 10 months ago

Text

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

I'm sorry in advance for murdering your feels with this sad, angsty, heartbreaking story.

Anyways....have fun reading

Heartless

Pt 1

You loved your boyfriend, Coriolanus. Maybe you even loved him too much. So when you discovered the truth about him…

Well…it devastated you.

It broke your heart into a million pieces.

On the day that you made a life changing discovery, one that was supposed to be happy, you got a reality check that gave you whiplash so hard that you didn't know what was what anymore.

After your doctor's appointment you went home to the penthouse that you shared with Coriolanus and his grandmother, Grandma’am. His cousin, Tigris, had moved out a little while back; she lives in a condo above her boutique now.

When you entered the penthouse, you saw that Ma Plinth was sitting, waiting for you, with a little platter of ginger cookies on the glass coffee table. “How was your appointment? I hope you're feeling better.” The mother of your late friend, Sejanus, warmly remarked.

“My appointment went well; I'm feeling better now too.” You kindly smiled at the middle-aged woman who reminded you so much of her son with her kind smile. “Thank you for watching Grandma’am. Coriolanus doesn't like her to be alone too much and I just had to get to my appointment.” You gratefully told her while making your way over to the coffee table to grab a cookie.

Ma Plinth stood up, only to gesture to a brown paper wrapped package on the table. “A package arrived while you were gone.”

You grabbed a cookie.l, taking a small nibble off it. “Oh, thank you for bringing it in. I'll put it in Coryo's study for him.”

“Oh, Y/N, it's not for him. It's addressed to you.” The dark-haired woman informed you before waving goodbye and showing herself out.

You had a package?That's odd. You never get packages or mail in general.

Everything gets sent to Coriolanus since he has all the bills and the house registered under his name.

You were curious about the package, so you put your cookie down on the tray and picked up the brown parcel.

You read your name and address on the package, but the space for a return address was left blank. You thought that was odd, but shrugged it off.

Curiosity got the better of you; you opened the parcel only to find a letter and a tape. An audio tape.

You unfolded the letter and read it.

Miss Halvir,

I'm writing you this letter because your dear Mr. Snow is not the man you believe him to be.

He is not a man that takes his…say…oaths and promises seriously. He is a heartless man incapable of feelings.

Most of all love. I know you believe him to love you, but listen to me when I say, my dear, that he does not in fact love you.

Coriolanus Snow is cut from the same cloth as his father. A cold, callous man that sees order as a way to balance the wildness of the world.

He sees all the world as an arena with two types of people in it.

Victors and the unfortunate souls that are not strong enough to survive and become a victor.

You, girl, are no victor, but he is.

Coriolanus Snow is.

And he will do anything to get ahead in this world. Including selling out his only friend. His best friend. One Sejanus Plinth.

In this package I have placed a copy of the recording that was played during Private Plinth’s date with the noose. Please listen to it in private.

It will shed some light on the man you falsely believe to love you.

I would hate for something to happen to you, like it did poor Sejanus Plinth, because of misplaced trust in one Coriolanus Snow.

Your hands shook as you put the letter down.

I'mYou couldn't believe what you just read.

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be.

You worried your bottom lip, turning the small audio tape over and over in your hand. You were scared to hear what was on it.

But you knew that you had to listen to it. So, you went over to the stereo, but it in, and pressed play.

What you heard on that tape made your heart stop. Every word exchanged between Sejanus and Coryo made you sick. The dead boy trusted the blonde, only to be secretly recorded and betrayed by him.

It was too much to handle.

If Coriolanus could do that to sweet Sejanus then what could he do to you?

You knew what you had to do. You couldn't stay with him; you had to pack your bags and go back to your mother's apartment. At least you'd be safe back home with your mother; safety's all that matters right now.

You can ignore that shattering pain of your heart breaking as long as your safe.

“Darling, I made reservations for dinner tonight at the Capitol Grille for 7.” You heard Coriolanus call out to you from the foyer as you finished packing the last of your things in your bags.

Well, the Capitol Grille was a very high end steak house where the menus didn't have price tags printed on them. It was also a place that you needed to put in a reservation ahead of time; somebody just couldn't walk in or call same day to get a table.

People waited weeks, sometimes even months for a table. Hmph, and knowing that Coryo's using Strabo Plinth’s money to snag a table and eat a 3 course meal that cost more then most people's pay in the districts disgusted you.

Oh god. The way he got the Plinths family fortune made you want to run away from him and never look back.

Main reason why you were zipping up your bag whenever Coriolanus entered you- no his bedroom.

“Darling why don't you wear-” He began to say, only to stop mid sentence and ask, “Going somewhere?”

“Yea.” You nodded. “I'm moving back in with my mother.” You looked up from your bag, only to see the platinum blonde arching a puzzled brow at you.

“Why're you going down to the 8th floor? Is she sick” Coriolanus couldn't help, but think that all your mother's chain smoking had finally gotten to her.

Yes, Coriolanus smokes socially; even has cigars with the high power playing politicians during certain events and dinners, but it wasn't anything that's damaging to his health.

Hell, he thinks breathing in all the chemicals in Dr. Gual’s lab’ll destroy his lungs first.

“I can't be with you anymore, Coriolanus. I'm breaking up with you; moving back home.”

“WHAT?!” The platinum blondr shouted so loud that you thought your eardrums busted.

Slinging you duffel over your shoulder and grabbing the handle to your rolling suitcase, you simply told him, “You heard me. I’m leaving you.”

His icy blue eyes flashed with anger and a hint of something else as he stormed over to you. “You're not going anywhere, Y/N.” He ordered, grabbing your suitcase out of your hand.

You yanked your suitcase, trying to snatch it away from him. “Give it back, Coriolanus. I need it “

“You don't need it because you're not leaving.” The cold hearted man that you once believed was capable of loving you said while slinging your suitcase across the room. “Now behave and get dressed. I got reservations for us at-” began pulling the strap of your duffel off of your shoulder l, only for you to snatch the bag back and interrupt him with, “I'm not going to dinner with you tonight or any other night. Not anymore, Coriolanus.” Feeling yourself ready to cry, you started walking away from him.

As long as you didn't look at him you'd be fine.

“We're done. Just go find something else you can pretend to love.” You remarked, walking out of the bedroom.

You made it roughly 3 feet down the hall, only to hear the heavy footfalls of your ex’s black floor shines echoing against the marble floor. Coriolanus stopped you dead in your tracks when he grabbed your upper arm. Spinning you around to look at him, he made to sell you the charming lie of, “Y/N, after being together since our Academy day, I'm not pretending to love you. I do love you.”

Shaking your head, you let out a tiny cackle of, “You're so full of shit. You know that?” You snapped your arm, causing his hold on it to break. Your fingers tightly clutched the strap of your duffel bag as you revealed, ‘I know what you did to sweet Sejanus and how you're exhorting his wall meaning parents.”

His baby blues turned into saucers. For once, the stoic and well masked man looked like he was frazzled.

Looks like you caught him off guard; you confronted him with truths he didn't want to share with you.

Coriolanus reached out for you, but you took two large steps back. Running a hand thru his hair, the platinum blonde looked at you as if you chucked his car out of the penthouse window. “I don't know what you think I did, darling, but let me explain everything.” His tone was dripping with a fake promise.

You knew that he wouldn't tell you the truth. He'd just tell you another one of his lies.

Heartless bastard.

And to think that you wasted nearly 5 years with his ass. You've been by his side since you were 16 years old, only to find out now that everything was a lie.

He never loved you. He never cared.

Hell, the only reason Coriolanus is with you is because the songbird went missing.

Yea…

Now you're thinking that the friendly act he was putting on with his tribute, Lucy Gray, wasn't an act at all. Now you realize he was cheating on you with her and you were too damn stupid to see it.

And to think that you faithfully wrote him and called him when he was a peacekeeper stationed in 12.

You should've listened to your mother and gone out with Sejanus instead. Maybe if you would've accepted his advance he'd still be alive..your friend wouldn't have followed the devil out to District 12 only to be betrayed and sent to the noose.

Too late now. What's done’s done.

But you do wish that you didn't fall in love with somebody who can never love you. Someone so evil.

So heartless.

“Nothing you say to me’s going to make me stay with you, Coriolanus.”

“Can you stop calling me Coriolanus and call me Coryo, like you always do?” Coriolanus asked with a pitiful look in his eyes. You're positive it's fake since he's incapable of feeling anything, other than hate and greed.

“I got a package in the mail today addressed to me; inside was the tape that you recorded of Sejanus. The one that got him hanged.”

Coriolanus' breath caught in his throat and his palms began to sweat. How did somebody send you the copy? He thought that only Dr. Gual has access to that.

She wouldn't send it to you. In fact, she keeps her records well under lock and key; would never part with them.

Looks like one of the interns he replaced in Dr. Gaul's lab is out to make his life hell because he took their coveted internship.

Coriolanus know that he had to calm you down; get you to put your bag down and get changed into a nice dress so he could take you out for dinner.

Damnit, he had something special planned, even got permission from Dr. Gaul to leave the lab early, so you needed to stop looking at him like a monster. He needed you to look at him with love again and quick, otherwise his dinner plans are going to go up in smoke.

“Y/N, I know you think that I betrayed Sejanus, but I didn't. I meant for the tape to reach Strabo, so that he could buy Sejanus an honorable discharge, but it didn't happen that way. The tape was never given to Strabo, it was used as evidence against our friend instead.” Coriolanus told you, foolishly thinking that you'd believe his twisted half truth. Well, they say the best lies are half truths.

Your nostrils flared angrily at hearing the snake in front of you call Sejanus his friend. Sejanus was your friend, not his. Coriolanus wasn't able to have real friends because he couldn't love anything.

Well the only things he loved were money and power, but that didn't count because those aren't people. Those are objects; possessions.

Before you could blink, you slapped Coriolanus across his smooth shaven cheek. “You don't get to call him your friend. Not after you got him killed.”

“You think I'm not haunted by that? That I don't have nightmares of Sejanus screaming out for his Ma; the mockingjays perched on the hanging tree repeating his frightened last cries before flying away?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked, only to give the false confession of, “I broke down crying at my bunk after helplessly watching my brother die, so don't stand here and tell me that I'm not sorry or that I killed my best friend on purpose because I didn't.”

“Oh, Coriolanus l, don't go there. I know for a fact you sleep like a baby every night.” You scoffed.

Shaking your head, you spun round and stormed down the hall.

Coriolanus was hot on your heels. His velvety words of, “Please, darling, don't be rash. Don't throw away 5 years over a tape you received in the mail.”

“I'm not throwing anything away, Coriolanus. As it turns out, those 5 years were all an act for you.” You stormed right into the main room and over to the foyer. Looking at him from over your shoulder as you reached the door, you gave him the famous last words of, “I’m glad I found out you’re heartless; will never love me before when there's still time to get away from you.”

Coriolanus just stared at the door after you slammed it shut. His anger was festering in his chest; he wanted to kill whoever sent you that tape.

Damnit!

There goes his plans for tonight.

He better call the restaurant and cancel the reservation; call up Tigris and let her know that he doesn't need her to stay with Grandma’am tonight because he's not taking Y/N out for dinner anymore.

Looks like he's stuck ordering something in for him and Grandma'am. He wonders if he should give her back that heirloom ring of hers or if he should just keep it; shove it to the back of his sock drawer.

Grandma’am is old and her memory’s started to fade; if he tries to give her the ring back it might put her into one of her nonsense ramblings.

No, he'll keep the ring.

He'll give you some time to cool off; then he'll shower you with jewelry and roses to soften you up.

Once you were softened up, he'd talk some sense into you. Get you to come home.

If you thought that breaking up with Coriolanus Snow would be easy, well, you were wrong. It was the hardest thing you did in your entire life.

And you know why?

Because he wouldn't leave you alone.

Well, he left you alone for the first couple of days, but after that he started sending flowers and gifts. No, not flowers and gifts. Roses and jewelry.

You never accepted them. You always tossed the roses in the trash and gave the packages of jewelry to the desk clerk with the instructions to give them to Coriolanus Snow.

You'd think he'd get the hint and stop.

Well, he didn't.

Instead, the floral arranged for larger and the jewelry kept coming back. Hell, he even went so far as giving you a copy of an ancient Pre-Panem book. A book from an ancient author that you loved.

Jane Austen.

You mother told you to burn the book, but you couldn't do that. It's be a sin to destroy such a work of art.

So, that was the only gift you kept.

But in doing so, you opened the Pandora’s box that was Coriolanus Snow's delusions. He thought that you were ready to see him again because you accepted a book, so he would come by your mother's every night looking to see you.

You always hid in your old child bedroom while your mother showed him away.

After 4 weeks of this insane behavior, your mother told you that she was concerned for your safety. That she felt you never to leave the Capitol for a while. Stay with your brother Rein, who was a peacekeeper that just received an officer’s commission in District 12.

Honestly, you didn't want to leave the Capitol. The Capitol was your home, but you knew that if you stayed then things would get ugly for you. Especially when it concerns Coriolanus.

You knew that Coriolanus would never look for you in District 12. He'd just write you off as a girl he lost control of and just find himself another Capitol bimbo to manipulate and control with false words of love.

So, that's why you were currently stepping off of the train in District 12.

Your brother was standing on the platform, eager awaiting your arrival in his officer’s uniform. When he spotted you, he quickly made his way over to your side and greeted you with a hug.

Reaching for your suitcase, he chuckled, “Let me take that for you, sis.”

“I see becoming an officer's turned you into a gentleman.” You teased Rein as he room your suitcase from you; leading you away from the platform.

“Mother told me your ex is stalking you with roses and jewelry.” Of course she did. Looking between you and a Jeep in the distance, your brother asked, “Does he know about the baby?”

“No.” And you're glad you received that tape after you came home from your doctor's appointment, confirming your suspicions. If not then you'd be trapped with that heartless monster.

“He’s just been sending me that stuff in an attempt to manipulate me back into his arms.

“I'm sorry things didn't work out, but you're more then welcome to stay with me in my apartment on base for as long as you need to.”

Your brother's words meant a lot to you. At least you had somebody to protect you from your ex.

Protect the both of you since you were going to become a mother in nearly 7 months.

Coriolanus walked into Dr. Gaul’s lab with a dead look in his icy blue eyes. It made Dr. Gaul gleeful. It was better then the cold look he had when he returned from his summer vacation as a peacekeeper.

Oh, this time the look in his eyes held so much hate that she doubts anything could ever soften his irises. It was marvelous, really, how the mad scientist molded her protege into a hateful man. Into, well, her best experiment.

But Dr. Gaul knew that there was a chance all of her hard work turning Snow as cold as his namesake could be ruined by you. Well, not you per say, but the creature you were incubating.

Coriolanus Snow wasn't old enough, cold enough, and calloused enough yet to enter fatherhood. He was too young and might grow soft at becoming a father.

A year under her tutelage wasn't long enough to ensure that he wouldn't slip back into a weaker mindset once a crying, shriveling, pink creature that was half him and half you popped into the world.

Dr. Gaul knew that she had to break every part of Coriolanus in order to piece him together into the war mongrel leader she wanted to run the country. You were that small shred of good that latched onto him, kept him from fully drowning in the darkness. A child, your child, might make Coriolanus see the world through a different lense.

Now, she couldn't have that. That would ruin everything.

So, when her contacts at the OBGYN office told her about your appointment and your condition, she sent you a little care package.

Her star student never figured out.that she sent it, instead he blamed the intern who lost his spot to him. The mad scientist even helped Coriolanus test a deadly mutt of the innocent soul who he thought did him wrong. All because Coriolanus’ proposal plans where ruined.

Oops…

Dr. Gaul grinned evilly as she read the latest report from her spies. You were now in District 12 living with your brother on the Peacekeeper base.

Well, looks like it's time for a new game change when it comes to the Hunger Games.

Dr. Gaul decided that even children born on peacekeeper bases would be considered district citizens and would be legally obligated to enter their names into the game's lotto style drawing.

Unless a child between the ages of 12 and 18 is a Capitol citizen living in the Capitol, they will be registered for the games. Living on a Peacekeeper’s.base will not over safety to any child I'm the districts.

Not anymore.

Hopefully your child, fathered by Coriolanus, will never have their name picked for the games.

But as long as Dr. Gaul's alive, shaping Coriolanus like a potter shapes clay, anything's possible.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas x you #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction

199 notes · View notes

hryniewiecki · 1 month ago

Text

Hi, this is how I made Jinx's chomper grenade, so (maybe) you could (hopefully) make one too (in case you'll ever want to)

With a lot of cardboard and some more paper!

I. GATHER REFERENCE PICTURES I used mostly fanmade 3D models and one or two screenshots from the actual show - that's why my chomper isn't exactly show accurate. I was trying not to go too hard on myself (for a change), so I didn't care about accuracy that much - do as you please.

For gathering refs I use Pinterest and Twitter accounts that share high quality screenshots (eg. this one).

II. PLAN OUT (the hardest part) Time to use refs to sketch the chomper - I started with a rough sketch to get familiar with the structure and all it's elements, to help me better understand how to build it. It was done keeping in mind estimated measurements I was going for (highly recommend using checkered paper), but keep in mind a 2D representation won't fully translate into 3D, so it wouldn't turn out the exact same.

When I was done with the rough sketch, I made a second, cleaner one (in pencil), this time to measure things more exact. Then constructed the "target board" you can see above it. It's representing all the "layers" - the cylinders that once stuck on top of each other would make the grenade - so I know how to space them out. It's basically a top view of the grenade without it's jaws.

III. MATERIALS, TOOLS and how I work with paper (important) List of the most important stuff: - different types of paper* - wood glue and/or any good paper glue - paper masking tape (or any that can be easily removed) - acrylic paints - compass (the one for drawing circles) - hobby knife / exacto knife / box cutter - hot glue gun (optional, but makes things easier) - air dry clay (optional)

*I used 4 types: - magazine paper (super thin, I used supermarket flyers) - cardboard packaging paper (from rice, cookies etc., rather thin but a lot more sturdy than regular paper, easily bendable) - super sturdy cardboard (still looks thin, but it's so hard it breaks easily when bend too hard) - corrugated cardboard (thick, but can be squished to be thinner; a pain to cut with scissors - recommend to use a knife)

Tips for working with paper: - scratch the shiny, printed side of the cardboard packaging to make it easier to glue (you can also try to gently peel it off, but it's not always possible) - another gluing tip: use masking tape or clippers to hold elements together before the glue starts to work, otherwise you may have to hold them in your hands and wait forever - if the paper is thin enough, curl it up to fit before gluing it onto a rounded surface (I mean something like this, except I just press it against a table and not my finger; it can be done with any tool really - scissors, ruler, pencil, edge of the table etc.) - the magazine paper can be used like a sculpting medium (bent, twisted, crumpled into balls etc.) to fill any empty spaces and even things out - I used it to make a "beveled edge" on two of the cylindrical parts, that's why they're covered in colorful stripes

IV. CONSTRUCTION (best part) Time to build some cylinders (how exciting!). I started with the tall middle one. Do I have to explain it? Just remember to add the details (the "bars", aka two layers of cardboard packaging paper spaced evenly) to it before you glue all the parts together.

For the thinner cylinders I simply glued circles of corrugated cardboard together, then covered the sides with a strip of cardboard packaging paper bent to shape. Depending on how tall the cylinder is, one can cut out two circles (top and bottom part), then sandwich (glue) some more scraps inbetween and cover the sides.

Now onto the two tricky parts: 1) Bottom I cut a ring out of the sturdiest cardboard I had and built an armature on top of it. It was then covered with magazine paper strips dipped in glue to create a half-sphere (basically paper mache). I filled it with even more crumpled paper to help hold the shape.

To make those funky "bolts" I scruffed each of those parts a bit a the bottom by cutting about 5 mm into them, so the paper would bend inwards allowing it to better fit the uneven surface. Then glued on the caps (this is when I run out of patience, filled the "bolts" with hot glue, placed random scraps on top of each one and then cut them into shape ..whatever works).

When you have everything assembled and it doesn't look the best, you can use more magazine paper to try to fill any gaps. Even better if you have air dry clay (that's what I used to even the half-sphere a bit). It's great for smoothing out the transition between parts if mistakes were made. If you want to make it super smooth you can use sanding paper.

2) Chompers (most important) I planned out the jaws on checkered paper, constructing the shape by following the lines or making diagonals, so it would be easy to replicate and make adjustments (super easy to measure).

It was then traced and cut out of cardboard packaging paper. I connected each part using masking tape to shape it into a jaw and check if it fits the grenade - after some adjustments were made I glued everything in place.

I wanted the jaws to be thick, so up to three additional layers of corrugated cardboard were cut out and glued on the inside of the initial "sculpt" - this allowed me to carve the eyes through the first layer.

V. PAINTING (suffering) general tips, because I'm not an expert - I used acrylics and started with painting everything black, then color and simple shading, then highlights (thin, bright lines on the edges), and paint splatters at the very end - the layering allowed me to later scratch some of the paint off to add more texture - follow your refs closely, you can even pic colors of off them (using a graphic software or any color picker online) to hint what to mix (eg. the jaws had a greenish/blue tint, so I mixed a bit of green paint with black and white)

- more on that note: just try not to use only black and white (that's what I did on my first try, when I forgot how painting works) - on the final version even the bottom part (which may seem plain black) has a drop of red or brown added; the highlights are not purely white either - it takes a lot of time and requires angelic patience (took me 2 days); take a break if you get too angry or frustrated

And I think that's it!

It's my first time trying to explain stuff and I wasn't sure how much detail to include, so if anything's unclear or missing I'll update the post. Feel free to ask and point out stuff, I'll be happy to help!

Good luck have fun

#arcane #crafts #arctober #jinx #jinx arcane #papercraft #diy tutorial #cosplay #cosplay props #cosplay tutorial #league of legends #league of legends cosplay #league of legends jinx #arcane cosplay #jinx cosplay #fanart #traditional art #hor.art

59 notes · View notes

xanticore · 5 months ago

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Genre: fluff

Note: this is my first metallica fic so pleaseee keep that in mind. I hope whoever reads this enjoys.

Setting: late 90s ~ early 2000s..ish

Summary: Kirk is on tour and he decides to stop by the local guitar store. He ends up staying longer than expected when he overhears a riff that sounded impressive. Assuming it was a guy, but was taken aback when it was a girl...a girl who doesn't seem to know who he is.

It was the weekend and I was starting my weekend off, our next show being on Thursday and Friday of next week. This gave me time to myself to find local comic stores and guitar shops. I was honestly in my own little world as time passed by quickly; I didn't mind at all because I was going to do the whole process again on Sunday. I left the comic book store with a new manga and some new released volumes. All Junji Ito works, no surprise there.

The next stop of the day was the guitar shop. The air was cool and the store was just so fucking huge, It was heaven to me. The store had a variety of items. Vinlys, cassettes, cds, and even some band posters...but my main focus was the guitar wall. All different types of styles and colors, different collaborations of pop culture, anything you could think of-this store probably had it.

A guitar that has been newly stock was the black and red Les Paul. It looked so gothic and vampiric. Younger me was just screaming at me to get it...which It was my plan. I asked a worker to take it off the shelf so I could practice some riffs on it. Just as I imagine; it was a smooth and crisp sound. A sound I was looking feel and I probably would make this guitar debut when I head to Japan.

It was already 5 pm and James was just blowing up my phone. I forgot all about our band dinner. I sighed packing up my things and unhooked the guitar from the amp. On my way towards the front to ring up my guitar, I overheard a riff coming from a room that was being occupied. It looked like it was a guitar lesson in session.

I continued to listen and soon heard a solo. It was definitely in the metal genre. Whoever that dude was; shredding that guitar like it was the last thing on earth. It intimidated me how good it sounded. Almost making me jealous of how I didn't think to use this type of style in a song.

I heard them stop and minor shuffling going on in the room. I quickly walked away and acted like I was looking at the vinyls. I glanced over at the door and saw a tall beautiful girl. She nearly took my breath away. The way she played really matched her style of clothing. She was a goth but it was familiar style I've seen in Japan. Her hair was dyed a dark red and her make up was flawless.

I needed to compliment her and asked her about that solo of hers. I was stupidly stuck in my place but managed to get to her with a sudden boost of confidence. "H-Hey, nice guitar. I heard you playing in that room. You sounded amazing." I complimented her with a smile in admiration.

She smiled back and looked somewhat excited. Did she recognize me? Did she not expect a guitarist from the most known metal band of all time-

"Thank you so much! Are you also a fan of Malice Mizer? I was playing one of their songs."

"Malice Mizer? never heard of them.."

The girl frowned but soon lit up when she started to explain the band to me. "It's a rock band from Japan. Visual Kei style of music over there. I'm really into bands like X Japan and Dir En Grey."

I've never heard any X Japan songs but I definitely seen posters of them in Shibuya. I know they are well loved and idolized in the era of rock music over there.

"There's actually a Malice Mizer cassette next to you of their new album. You should buy it and give them a listen? They won't disappoint." She giggled. I eyed her movements when she moved closer to me, only to pick up the packaged cassette tape. The cover had a silver cross and the band's name in black in the middle. But enough about them, her little giggle was just so cute. If only I could hear that from her more often.

"I'm Kirk."

"(name)"

A beautiful name as well. I didn't want to add anymore details of my name because I knew it wouldn't matter and honestly...i'm really enjoying that. It felt more natural to speak with a non fan. Nothing was forced and she genuinely seemed to enjoy just talking about her favorite music; unlike some girls i'd meet at clubs.

"Well Kirk, I hope to see you around?"

I didn't say a word but I just nodded. I tried to stay positive but it was a pain I wasn't gonna see her again. I bought my guitar and cassette watching the cashier put it in a case. I left the store happy and somewhat sad, but, seeing that girl smile just brighten up my mood...

I hope to see her again.

a/n: so what we thinking?? yay or nay?

gif from: @ba11ltongue

dividers: cr to owners

#metallica #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #metallica x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #scenarios #first fic #james hetfield #lars ulrich #robert trujillo #cliff burton #jason newsted #dave mustaine #metallica fanfiction #metallica fanfic

88 notes · View notes

sirfrogsworth · 2 months ago

Text

Getting my photograpy studio going seems to keep hitting roadblocks.

I really don't have the energy to type this again for you all, so I'm going to copy and paste my email to Adorama customer service...

---------------------------

Hello. I ordered two large beauty dishes.

The white and silver 28" beauty dish from Glow.

This was one of the most poorly packaged items I have ever received. It had no packing materials. No bubble wrap. No peanuts. No styrofoam. They just put the dishes in a very poorly constructed box and shipped it to me.

During shipping, the box for the white beauty dish had one entire side of the box ripped off. It is a miracle the beauty dish did not fall out of the box.

Because of all of this, the beauty dish was warped, the paint was scuffed, and the diffusion sock must have fallen out at some point during shipping.

The silver beauty dish and that box faired a little better, only having one large puncture, but the reflector plate was still damaged.

Just the process of asking for a return was long and convoluted. I was on the phone for maybe an hour and the rep asked me for pictures of every bit of damage from every angle and pictures of the box. I don't understand why I couldn't just say, "This was damaged" and then get a return authorization. That photograph of the box should have been sufficient evidence.

After submitting way too many pictures and taking up a great deal of my time and energy, I was finally given labels and told to go to the UPS store to return the items.

I searched my house for a box big enough to replace the damaged box. But I had nothing that big. So I called back again. And after a very long wait on hold, I was told to take the beauty dish to the UPS store and they would box it up for me.

I am disabled. It is very difficult for me to drive places. And it takes a long time to find transportation. So after a week, I was finally able to take the items to the UPS store. I showed them the beauty dish and told them they were to box it up as per my instructions from Adorama customer service. The item was too large and they did not stock boxes that big, so they refused to take the item.

I went home and called Adorama customer service again. I explained the box was damaged and that UPS refused to take the item.

And I think due to a language barrier, the rep was not able to understand what I was trying to communicate. I tried to explain many times that the original box was damaged beyond repair.

She put me on hold for 5 minutes. Then she came back and asked if I could just "tape up the box."

Again, the box is not able to be repaired. An entire face is missing. I cannot manifest a new side of the box from nothing. The beauty dish would fall out during shipping. I doubt UPS would even accept a box with a gaping hole in it.

She put me on hold many more times and I spent over an hour on the phone explaining the same information in different ways hoping at some point she would understand. Over and over I explained the box was damaged, I had no other box, and UPS store had no box. I was probably on hold for longer than I actually spoke to anyone.

I finally asked for a supervisor, hoping they would be able to understand me better. She came back and had one more suggestion. She told me to buy a new box, keep the receipt, and then I would be reimbursed for the cost of the box.

This felt like a ridiculous suggestion to me.

I did not damage the box. I did not use poor shipping materials. I had already spent gas money and time going to the UPS store. Now I was being asked to do more labor and go to another store to buy a new box.

Again, I am disabled. The time and energy required to get a new box is not something I am willing or able to do.

Finally she told me it would be escalated to management and I might get a refund without having to return the item.

This is only an $80 product. I should not have to spend hours and hours trying to return this item and get a refund. A refund should have been the first suggestion once the box could not be replaced by the UPS store.

This is just a very inefficient process.

What I'd like to see is better packaging for these beauty dishes. How anyone gets these items without any damage is a miracle.

I think return and refund authorizations should be much quicker. One picture of the box damage should have been plenty of evidence.

And if there is a communication issue with the customer service rep, they should transfer the call to someone else instead of making the customer repeat the same information for over an hour. I do not wish for her to be punished or reprimanded. I just want these reps to be able to say, "This call is complicated, we are having trouble communicating, and I need someone with more experience speaking English to take over." But I'm guessing they all fear if they say that, they may lose their job. It should be made clear that for these rare, complicated issues, even very good speakers of English as a second language may find communication difficult. And that asking for help is encouraged in those situations.

I will say, I am not feeling well. I was having a very bad day. I nearly collapsed earlier at the UPS store after carrying 2 large items in from my car. I got frustrated on the call and raised my voice with my rep. And I feel bad about that. I wish I had a way to apologize. I know this issue was not her fault. But I was expecting to only be on the phone for a few minutes and after an hour of talking, I was very tired and frustrated. She was very polite and doing her best. This is just a weird situation.

So, that was my experience. I am hopeful my refund will be approved and that some of my suggestions will be passed along to the appropriate people.

Thanks, Benjamin Grelle

---------------------------

I always got upset at my dad when he yelled at people on the phone. And I didn't really yell. But I definitely raised my volume and had an angry tone. But when she told me to buy a whole new box, I just could not believe someone actually told her to suggest that. I was actually angry at whoever that was I guess, but she was the one on the phone.

I was worried that this is just another sign that I am struggling with anger and it is manifesting in other places. But I think I was just at my wit's end. I had a tough morning. I went to the doctor and had to park in the very back parking lot. And just that walk raised my heart rate to 120. And I'm worried my issue is not as fixed as I hoped. But then as I talked to the doctor, I realized I stopped taking my heart rate meds for the past few weeks. I was meant to stop my thyroid meds only. But after I got double vaccinated, I felt so bad that my brain just turned to mush. And I stopped taking both of them. I literally forgot the meds existed somehow.

And then he tells me he sent a script for a lower dose of my thyroid meds because now my TSH was way too high instead of way too low. I was taking too much, but I shouldn't have stopped completely. And I got those pills about 2 weeks ago. But no one ever told me they were a new dose and that I was supposed to start taking those instead.

So my body might be pretty confused right now.

The doctor had a nurse practitioner student. And we were talking about my trouble with exercise. And I was explaining that if I do any exercise, I get sick for days. Not only that, it's the only activity I can do—no photography, no writing, no socializing. I'd just be exercising and then going to sleep and that would be my life. I can't do it. I have been trying to figure out the exercise puzzle with my condition for 20 years.

And then she was like, "Just start with cleaning your dishes after dinner."

And I started crying because I really didn't want to explain the entirety of my medical issues or how cleaning dishes was not going to offer any substantive change to my health. I was so tired and frustrated. The doctor stepped in and changed the subject. But I was pretty frazzled.

I really hope this is just me being dumb and forgetting to take my medication. I really thought this problem was solved and I don't want to go back to the drawing board. The heart doctor already said as far as he is concerned, my heart is fine and it isn't his problem.

57 notes · View notes

ninyard · 4 months ago

Note

Do you have any HCs for Kayleigh?? I always wonder about the pre-AFTG series story (and the big players).

There’s brief stuff in the EC abt Tetsuji & Kayleigh. but other than that it’s pretty blank?

Also the detail abt exy becoming popular partially via a manga ? I want the missing chapter when Tetsuji reacts to that 😭😭

Oh Kayleigh and Tetsuji!!!!!!!! I picture her so clearly in University in Dublin in her final year of Sports Management or whatever course she did, writing her thesis on mixed gender sports or the invention of new sports and sitting down with her thesis lecturer with this idea. Kayleigh finding a mentor in this man, or woman, and saying to them I want to do something bold, something amazing. She's on the Lacrosse team in UCD. She plays on as many of the teams that she can without jeopardising her studies.

Kayleigh moving to Japan for her masters, and meeting Tetsuji, and she sees herself in him, this glint in his eyes that says he needs to be destined for more. Them sitting across from each other in the library with books about sports and the invention of different things and Tetsuji looks at a sport like Lacrosse and says it's missing something. I think it could be better. And they spitball these ideas back and forth. Should it be on ice, bigger teams, smaller teams? Should it be outdoors or indoors? Is it violence? Is it violence that it's missing?

Kayleigh talking to her mom, sending letters to Ireland, making expensive phone calls in the middle of the night all the way across the world, begging her to send her VHS tapes of as many hurling games as she could find - her mother complaining about how expensive they'd be to ship to Japan, but she agrees anyway. Kayleigh finding as many books as she can about Irish sport and the history of it all. It's a couple of weeks before she get the package at her door, and she calls Tetsuji when he's in the middle of a lecture and tells him to come over. There in front of her is four, five, six tapes of All Ireland final matches, and they sit down in front of the TV with their notebooks in front of them.

They don't write anything after the first match, Tetsuji staring at the screen like he's taking it all in, Kayleigh staring at him with a smile on her face like this is what he was waiting to see. 70 minutes go by and she switches the tape out for another one, and then another, and another, and they stay up until the sun rises just taking notes and watching. Brainstorming. Kayleigh explains the rules to him. They draw pictures, and there's a million failed ideas that don't work, like a flat racquet more similar to a hurley than a lacrosse stick, or helmets more similar to a cricket helmet than an american football one. No armor, more armor, too much armor.

Them finding each other after class, and proposing this idea for their dissertation, their master's thesis, their final project, and getting a ridiculous look. Getting shut down, getting told it's ridiculous. So they do what they were supposed to do; make it fucking happen anyway.

They spend all the savings that they have, and Tetsuji contacts his family, and they get things shipped over to Japan - hurling helmets, hockey gear, lacrosse sticks. All these mish-mash element that creates the idea thats been living inside their heads. They have 10 different types of balls, a tennis ball, a cricket ball, a baseball, all these different options, and the two of them find out the schedule of all the pitches and fields and courts on campus and try it everywhere. It's messy, but it's exciting, and invigorating. They have their bulging notebooks on the ground, and every rule and idea they have, every thing that feels right or wrong, they write it down. They're taping weights around the lacrosse sticks to see if it feels better, padding out their gear with cardboard and duct tape. There's something missing, still. They try it on ice, and its too unbalanced and sloppy, but the first time Tetsuji shoots a ball at the plexiglass wall, and it rebounds right into Kayleigh's net, they both look at each other like that's it. That's what we've been missing. They jump on top of each other and get scolded for falling on the ice and screaming in the rink.

They figure out how much it would cost for them to rent out the unused college soccer pitch for the summer, and find ten of their friends and classmates and explain the rules as best they can. It's expensive, buying the gear for them all, figuring out how to surround the soccer pitch in plexiglass that's strong enough to not topple over from the weight of a person. They spend that summer finessing the rules, and finessing the positions, and teaching their friends how to play. By September, Tetsuji invites his family to watch, and Kayleigh invites their lecturers to watch, and there they stand. The first ever game of Exy.

It's not perfect - a goal falls over, the floor of the pitch isn't quite working, because they keep stumbling over their own feet when they run, but it's a brilliant thing to watch; something new, and unique, and never been done before. Kayleigh's team beats Tetsuji's team, and for a while they don't hear much. But their friends keep playing, they keep contacting people, making phonecalls to manufacturers and sports clubs.

I'm just thinking about those first few years where Kayleigh and Tetsuji probably spent every waking moment together just figuring it out. Their dorm rooms or apartments full of crap, different balls and equipment. Her bedroom wall covered in drawing and scraps of paper and ideas. Them spending most of their time on the phone with each other when they're not together in person. Thinking about them creating presentations and pitches and just trying to get their silly little idea of the ground, waiting for someone to take a chance on them, waiting for all the different sports committees and companies to call them back. A million "Sorry, no thank you!" emails and a million "It's just not something we can help you with" letters and phone calls. Until they get that one, then those two, those three words that say fucking go for it. The four words that say I believe in this.

I think about Kayleigh and Tetsuji running off of redbull and adrenaline, and how happy they would've felt when that first game finished and they saw something in each others eyes. Before their passion got killed by the reality, by the Moriyama's, by the world pushing them back again and again and again. But more of their classmates get involved. Somebody asked "What is it that you kids have built on the soccer field?" and then it's in a local paper. It's letters sent back to Ireland signed off in Japanese saying I can't wait to tell you what I've been working on.

Yeah. Yeah I have a lot of thoughts about Kayleigh. I have some images of her and Tetsuji in my head. Just a few!

#literally giddy just thinking about them tbh #also idfk how you invent a sport dont come for me #kayleigh day #tetsuji moriyama #aftg #all for the game #mine #ask

87 notes · View notes