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#inside the cape outside on the hem?
shtern-and-art · 2 years
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Yves Saint Hallow from the amazing fic Rocks Give Way To Rain by @ekhosays-rocksgivewaytorain
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nipuni · 14 days
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Time for an old school blog post, Hello!
Just various updates about life and shows and clothes and some photos! Adding a read more cut because I talk too much 😊
Happy equinox everyone!! The mild weather has been wonderful for daily park walks. We have been taking our meals outside as often as we can to make the most of it before summer scorches the land and all life. The longer days allow for a lot more wandering too but the imminent return of the heat is also making the longing to move up north worse by the day. We miss the choppy ocean and seaside cliffs 😭 We love the silence and the rain and the nippy sea breeze!! it's like being suspended in early spring for half the year and a rainy autumn the other half, Ideal if you don't mind humidity, but that's what wellies and flat caps are for. We have been looking for properties to rent to show up everyday so for now we lie in wait.
Speaking of nature, a few months ago we discovered a free app called Plantnet that you use to take and upload photos of plants, trees, flowers and it will identify them for you. You keep a log with their locations and can share them too to help contribute to each local biodiversity database. It feels like a pokedex for plants. There are many apps like this one to choose from too. It's been so fun learning what all these plants are called and memorizing them! I recommend it, is like a little educational side quest to take on while stretching your legs and getting some fresh air. This is not an ad I promise lmao I just think it's neat! kind of sad feeling the need to clarify that.
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This weather is also making me want to start making outfit posts again! It's been so long since I made any!! my winter wardrobe is mostly long wool coats or capes and boots so the inspiration wasn't there but now I'm ready to pull out all my stuff back from under my bed storage and experiment again 👏 I've also been meaning to share some of Nicolas outfits for ages too so there is more variety, could be fun!
Speaking of clothes, lately I've grown more and more frustrated with how poorly most clothes fit me to the point where I'm considering learning how to make them from scratch. I usually have to take in the tops and hem the bottoms but most things I try on are just built weird even if I fix the size, or maybe I'm built weird! I think it may be both. Nicolas also said he would love to learn along with me so we will probably embark on that adventure soon. OH and on a short tangent, I got myself a sort of binder-like top that flattens the chest a bit and I'm loving it! I'm very flat already but what little bust I do have has always bothered me when I dress and I've found I feel a lot more comfortable in this type of top. I'm glad I tried it out so if you feel similarly you may want to give it a go too, see how it feels!
On the media side of things we have also been watching more of David Tennant's work. We are still very much in love with him to an embarrassing degree, you can probably tell if you follow me anywhere, my likes on twitter alone give me away alksjdf and Nicolas isn't any better! if he used social media his would look the same lmao.
Since my last report we have watched and absolutely LOVED "There She Goes" we already want to watch it again honestly. The family dynamics for all his characters are always so real and refreshing!! Their relationship with their wives especially are always so believable in every series we've seen, the comfort and camaraderie, the banter and just friendship! You can tell they enjoy each other's company, it feels true. I love it so much!!
We also watched "Inside man" which was..a very stressful mess but David was incredible as always, also very hot and very pitiful which is always great, and Stanley Tucci was on it! so that's also fun.
Then we rewatched season one of Good Omens and the first 4 seasons of Doctor Who, with all the extra content like the Confidentials, deleted scenes, video diaries and more, they are just so good!! our list of favourite episodes keeps growing, season four is incredible, we are loving all these seasons even more the second time around!! Now we are probably going to start watching either Classic Who or Torchwood, along with more of David's work. We were trying to pick what to watch during dinner the other day and Nicolas was like 'damn, David is not in this though, I miss him' and lmao same so now we just watch one show without him and one with him right after to cope 😂
OH we have also been doing more historical reenactment! Since the last one in the 20's we jumped back to Regency times. We have been putting our outfits together for a ball soon and hopefully another one in autumn in the UK 😊 1800 is the farthest back in time we've been yet so it's been fun doing research, finding pieces and learning the dances in class but also very hectic. I'll share more about this soon!
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Then we also have a couple of 1900 events coming soon, so I'll be sharing more Edwardian looks as well, our favourite era!!
Anyway I think that's all for now, thanks for reading to whoever is doing so!! I know this is long and not a popular blogging format anymore but I enjoy it a lot, maybe some of you do too 🥰 I will reply to some messages soon, I'm so sorry I'm so bad at keeping up with those!! I've read them all and cherish every word 🥺 Thank you for supporting my art and shenanigans as always!! I hope you have a great week!!
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azuryuu · 8 months
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yuu h. in my ramshackle dorm leader uniform fan-design (+ without cloak)
as usual, click on the image for a higher quality
i decided to try my hand at designing a uniform for the ramshackle dorm ! personally very happy with how it turned out:)
non-dorm leader variant of the ramshackle uniform feat. kat (@kit-ken / @clovers-n-roses's yuu):
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also- if you'd like to, feel free to draw your yuu in this ramshackle uniform:) i'd be very flattered if you do:) just credit me for the original design also pls tag me i'd like to see uwaaaa
character design notes are under the cut as well for those interested:)
date: 17/08/23
like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my art tag or my masterlist | links can be found on my desc
general notes
same top hat and cloak as the ghosts - the cloak has ripped and frayed hem for that "ramshackle" look
dark makeup around eyes and on lips to have that sunken eyes ghost look: black eyeshadow and optional blue highlights around eyes + black/dark blue lipstick
white dress shirt + pants + shoes to emulate the white bedsheet ghosts of ramshackle
ruffles at the hem and back of the dress shirt are long and flowy to emulate the ghost tail so the students have a similar silhouette to the ghosts
shared design between dorm leader and dorm member
dark blue top hat
dress shirt all have the same collar and ruffles by the throat
black sleeve garter on both arms
buttons have ruffles only to the right (my right, their left)
dress shirt opens midway into an upside down V-shape
white dress pants with blue waistbands + the inside of the pockets are dark blue with lighter blue stripes + pocket stitching in dark blue x-shape
shoes are all primarily white with black and gold accents + golden buttons on the outside-side
unique to dorm leader
sleeves are actually shorter but with more elaborate ruffles: no cuff + ends at around midway on the forearm and flares into frills - two layers of ruffles
dress shirt hem flows into ruffles which covers the pants pockets and extends all the way to the back -> the frilled hems also have 2 layers -> the 2nd layer of ruffles (under) split into 2 "ghost tails"
pant legs are tucked inside the boots
boots that extend mid-lower leg, layered with white pleats with golden accents + 6 buttons on the outside + black body + golden sole + black strap with golden accent that goes under the shoe
customisation ideas for dorm members
same top hat + ruffles around the throat + collar as dorm leader
possible customisation for the cloak -> for kat, same cloak as yuu h. -> potential cloak idea: cape that splits halfway in the middle in an upside down V-shape for extra flowiness
dress shirt has frills but not as ornate as dorm leader
sleeves have frills but not as distinctive -> for kat, long cuff with 4 buttons, and ends with short pleats. -> potential sleeve idea would be like epel's school uniform
dress shirt hem opens like dorm leader but no ruffles in the front so pants pocket details are visible
dress shirt has long flowy ruffles for the "ghost tail" at the back only -> only 1 "tail" -> only 1 layer -> shape of actual ruffles is highly customisable, can be anything as long as it's long enough -> for kat, the "tail" slopes to one side, short on the left (my left, their right) and becomes long on the right -> potential "tail" idea: can be uniform/symmetrical
pant legs can be tucked into the shoe or not, depending on the shoe itself n personal choice -> for kat, pants are not tucked in -> pants hem can be flared into additional ruffles if so desired
choices for shoes is open to most styles as long as the colours and layered appearance remains more or less the same -> for kat, ankle boots with the same colour and pleating as yuu -> potential shoes idea: can be dress shoes, taller boots, school shoes, etc...
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sashi-ya · 9 months
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𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [+18] 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [final chapter]
ʚ masterlist: part 1; part 2; part 3 ; part 4; part 5 ʚ tw: finally, some good smut! love making. fingering. oral. vag. love love love confession! this is the last part of this story, but... is it really? 😏 wait and you will see...
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𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬
“Nevermind…” you sigh, going back inside. The night is too beautiful to be enjoyed on your own, and you should be finishing some last details on your cosplay. “Back to sewing…”
As your fingers work with the last part of the hem of Sora’s wife’s cape your eyelids feel heavy. And even if your mind won’t stop thinking about Law and his “surgery”, soon the sound of the waves outside lull you to sleep.
Her hand on his inked one, their bodies sweating on a tiny hospital office. A woman so refined, so pretty, and desirable, lets her white coat fall back as he pins her against the desk.
“Dr. Trafalgar… do you think this is proper?” she asks, giggling so devilishly as his kisses attack her neck.
“Even if it’s not proper, I can’t wait no more… Nico-ya…” Law sighs, loudly, opening the blouse to reveal the turgor of her breasts. He is desperate, in need of sex and release. And the tanned skin of his colleague seemed to be the right place to dig in.
Her deep blue eyes scan with lust the way Law opens his ripped jeans and lifts the yellow shirt up. He tucks it under his chin, while the white coat still remains on.
Dr. Nico Robin’s tight black skirt ends up looking like a belt around her waist as Law comes closer and lifts it up to gain a better access to her core.
“Let me fuck you now, Nico-ya” he grunts, pumping his hardness closer to a dampened fine lace panty of hers.
“Fufufu- fuck me now, Dr. Trafalgar… this surgery can take as long as this night lasts for ~”
Tears sprout from closed eyes, a painful image to look at. Your head over the table of your kitchen, and a ray of light hitting your eyes making you wake up.
In between sobbing you notice it doesn’t seem to be the sun but artificial light. The little led of your sewing machine reminds you that you had fallen asleep while working on a costume.
“Fuck…” you swear. “It was just a dream. That’s it… just a dream…” you try to calm yourself down as you check the time on your phone. Four hours have passed since you started working, enough time to finish if you hadn’t fallen asleep.
Dragging your feet to the refrigerator, you search for a trusty energy drink. The sweet and sour flavour of chemicals will do to keep you awake. However, you are sure that it won’t be the only thing…
You take a look through the window; the noctilucas are on full display over the coast and the blueish gloom tinting the beach looks like a perfect magical place. Maybe the doors to a different universe in which pirates rule the world and people have powers like being made out of gum.
“I wish you were here Law…” you sigh, painfully remembering the dream you just had. Imagining Law being with another woman breaks your heart…  but seeing him unleash sexual desires over her; that’s even worse.
You decide to check your phone; the last time Law used his was the exact moment he bid you goodbye. You are not very sure if he is indeed operating, or he simply turned off his phone so that you wouldn't bother him while being with another girl.  In any case there is no point on keep worrying about it. So, you sit down again at the table and start sewing the last part of your cosplay.
A sudden knock in the middle of the silence of the night, creeps you out. “Who could it be at this hours?”
Carefully you stand up and walk towards the door. By taking a swift look through the peephole you discover that nobody’s standing there. A shiver runs through your spine, and you wonder if you are again in danger or not…
Immediately, the memories of what happened six months ago hit you;  however, this time there isn't any hero around you called Law. This time there is no officer Roronoa, nor Penguin, Bepo or Shachi.
You silently grab the keys, squeezing the white fluffy ball that Law gave you. You take them from the door trying to make the least sound possible and walk backwards. Grabbing your cell phone, you check on your security camera app discovering that by the porch off the door there is a package with a bow that looks like a gift.
A million thoughts run through your mind; you are sure that this is something similar to a scene you saw on a Halloween movie. You feel like you're sweating, but it is cold. You ponder if you should call 911 or not… after all if there is nobody there, and it’s just a package they will probably call you crazy.
You take a deep breath. You ponder all of the possibilities.
“All right this is probably someone trying to kill me. And if I open the door to grab the damn package, for sure someone will come in and try to kill me. YES! that's it! What if it’s a fucking murderer clown? Or a guy wearing a coat with pink feathers and glasses that wants to kill me with strings around my neck??!”
You think of the stupidest things, even if today they do not sound that stupid… And frankly, when you grab your phone, you realise that you shouldn't be calling the person that you're calling… But you can’t help it…
The ringing tone seems eternal. Law isn't answering his phone. Of course he is. And if he's either operating or not, he is busy… he won't pick up the phone.
“This is Doctor Trafalgar Law speaking. I am not available in the moment to answer but please, leave a message after the tone. Thank you.” His voice resonates in your head like echoes of losing hope.         And as you curl up into a ball, by some corner of your kitchen in total darkness, you speak to him.
“I don't know why I'm calling you… but I'm scared, and I know you can’t do anything because you're on the other side of the country. But I really think you are my safe place… so, if something happens to me tonight, I need you to tell you something… I’m madly in love with you Law. Goodbye.”
Which theory eyes the next you hear is a new knocking on the door. This time it isn’t suspicious, this time is desperate.
“(Name)-ya! (Name)-ya! It’s me!!! Open me please!”
“LAW???” you stand up, sniffling. At this point you are sure you are hallucinating.
“(Name)-ya, please open! It's me, Law! I didn't mean to scare you; I was hoping that you will find this a pleasant surprise!” the desperate voice of your lover sounds in your eardrums like a balsam.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand and run to the door. Unlocking the latch, you let the summer breeze hit your heated cheeks.
His image, standing right by the door, feels like a dream… what is Law doing there? He was supposed to be on a surgery, or… or with Dr. Robin.
“L-Law?” your lips tremble, giving your beloved doctor a sweet look of helplessness. Like a scared little girl to his father, you stretch your arms to him.
Law sighs; he is so relieved to see you safe and sound. He immediately hugs you, lifting you up and pressing your body against his.
“I’m here. Don’t panic…” he murmurs, nuzzling on your temple while you do the same on the crook of his neck.
The scent of his skin, something you wonder you had forgotten, still is as delicious as you remember. Once again the feeling of safeness with his arms around your frame. Once again him, nobody but him.
“Wha- what are you doing here, Law…?” you whisper, both unable to move nor break the hug. The need for one accumulated all throughout six long months.
“I- I wanted to come and see you…I am aware that this wasn’t very well planned, but I…” he whispers back, inhaling, after, the perfume of your hair.
You giggle. He shouldn’t be apologizing; it was you who ruined his surprise.
He puts you down, carefully, and softly.
“Law… I…” you lift your eyes to look at him. You wanna say something, but the sudden memory of your love confession strikes you. Did he hear you through the door? Has he already listened to the voice memo?
However, none of that matters anymore because without warning, neither mercy, desperate lips crash with yours in a scorching kiss.
Law’s mouth feels like paradise. A heaven you never knew it existed and to where you wish to be taken. The taste of his tongue on yours, so deliciously intrusive… for how many nights you imagined this?
When the first kiss finally breaks - because your lungs were rioting for at least a molecule of oxygen- he fixes his needy orbs into yours. “I owed you this since the airport” he pants.
You blink slowly, still unable to process what has just happened. He still feels the salty taste of your tears, while you drown into a pit of butterflies attacking your stomach.
“And�� I’ve been waiting for it since that day…” you murmur, biting your lower lip too sexily for the surgeon’s imagination.
He moves that mysterious box that was still resting on your porch, inside. He didn’t even lift it up, he just kicked it in, with care.
Closing the door behind you, he lifts you up again, this time by your legs. You, quickly, surround his waist with them trapping his body for it to be only yours.
He walks towards your kitchen, kissing you so desperately with grunts and growls that sprout so easily from his throat. Law moves inside as if he knew your home, as if it was his own.
Of course, had other type of stuff be over your table he would have pushed them away, but he didn’t want to ruin your progress. So, Law keep walking through the little glass door that you kept open in your kitchen. Such door leads to a little deck that offers you the most beautiful views of the beach right across the street.
He deposits you over the little railing of your deck, amazed by the breath-taking scenery ahead of you. However, Law still believes that there is nothing more beautiful than you. That nothing, not even the Noctilucas, shine as bright as you.
His tattooed hand lands on your cheek; soft blessed fingers, trained to save lives, killing you slowly with a loving caress.
You enjoy the way his caramel skin shines bright by the blueish phosphorescence of the Noctilucas on the coast. Under a dark sky, a dot of brilliance beats like two hearts finally able to join after so long.
It is impossible for you not to get emotional. Eyes once again getting humid, this time because of pure joy.
He gets lost in the view of the coast; and the beating sounds of your hearts that match the waves crashing against the sand create a beautiful melody of love.  
“I missed you so much…” he murmurs once he looks back at you. “I missed you too, Law… I… I…” you need to tell him how much you love him; even if he really knows. Of course, he does.
Law’s lips get closer to yours, barely touching them. His hand slides from your cheek to your shoulder, a finger tangling on the strap of your lose dress. And it falls, uncovering your body, showing the man of your dreams a skin so ready to be loved. So ready to be adored.
“Don’t say it just yet…” he utters, as he begins to kiss your shoulders with loving pecks that will remain carved in your flesh for the first time and for the rest of your life.
You nod, because you understand completely why he wants you to wait. And you really don’t mind about the rest of the world, even if your bare back is on full display towards the coast during a lonely Friday night.
As Law goes down with his kisses, leaving a trail of lust, you play with the soft yet messy hair of his. Combing through it, with your nails, you watch him approach your breasts.
He discovers, with love and praise, how perfect your anatomy is… this time for real, because you both are willing to offer one to the other. Cupping your right breast, he gets your protruding nipple in between his lips.
Sucking, ever so softly, you feel like exploding. The sleepiness has eased away, and now there is just love and need. Desire and lust.
Your throw your head back, with your mouth wide open, letting a low moan to scape your chest. The way he pulls, and nibbles so delicately, is like the delicious starter for a full curse banquet.
And a banquet, a feast is what Law wants from you. To do with you. He finds your skin taste to be delightful, and he can’t wait to check that indeed your core is as ambrosial as he imagined it to be.
He kneels in between your legs, spreading them from your inner thighs. A place where he firstly squeeze, and then kiss. Diving underneath the flowy skirt of your pleaded yellow dress.
Your belly spasms in anticipation; Law’s hardness seems too painful for those blue jeans. The wet spots on your panties are everything the surgeon desires to enjoy, and little by little the tip of his nose reach for them.
You try to close your legs as in an unvoluntary muscle reaction, with knuckles turning white as you grab yourself from the railing not to fall.
“Keep… them open, (Name)-ya” he orders, sending a sting of pleasure with a simple command that sounded so dominant.
“Y-yes…” you barely mouth, knowing that you must try your best to spread your legs so that he can rejoice with your sex.
You can sense what he is doing right under your skirt, with playful finger that graze the dampened fabrics that cover your sex. Law uses his thumb, rubbing it up and down, painfully slowly over your covered slit. And taking all of his sweet time, he finally moves away your lacey coverings.
“Heh” you hear him scoff, followed by the warm sensation of his breath getting closer to your labia. You squirm, passing your nails through his nape, or at least the little part you can reach as you don’t want to lose your balance.
First, the tip of his tongue. Then all of it, eating your whole, drinking your elixir drop by drop. The technique, so immaculate. Sucking, touching, licking the right parts, showing you exactly how much of an expert he is in terms of knowing the human body.
And when your legs begin to shiver, to quiver instead of spasming, and your moans become louder… Law knows it’s time to enjoy the beautiful expression of raptured pleasure your face must be holding.
He stands up, cleaning the brilliance off his lips but never taking two fingers out of you. Those two fingers that keep you at bay, won’t let you finish but won’t let you lose the heat either.
“Can I make love to you, right now?” he asks, with his lips grazing yours, in a sexy and raspy voice.
You swallow. He said “make love…” not “fuck”…
“Ye-yes, please… make love to me, Law ~”
The surgeon smiles sweetly. Even if lust would lead you both, there is also something deeper. There is love with no words, pure adoration.
“Where is your bedroom?” he asks, taking his fingers out of you and holding you back in arms.
You point at the glass door next to the kitchen one. Your cheeks on fire, your insides too. Your heart combusting, with sparks flying from such burning.
He slides open the door with a swift motion, grunting to discover you didn’t lock it. “You should close this…” he scolds you and you simply giggle.
When he gets to the foot of the bed, he kneels with you still in arms. You sit on his lap, with noses grazing, both breathing desire, with your sex over the bulge forming underneath his jeans.
“Are you sure?” he asks, again. “Yes, because I…” you wanna say you love him, but his inked index stops you from doing so. Not just yet.
Law slowly takes his finger from your lips and kisses your forehead.
Your breasts pressed against his chest are dying to feel his skin against them. Thus, you surely begin to pull up from his shirt.
Caramel skin, yet again barely bathed by the blueish light filtering from the coast through the glass door. The black lines, tracing a heart pattern forever carved on his flesh like the memories of that man who saved his life… the man he told you about during endless texting before bed nights.
Planting sweet kisses on his neck and collar bones, you enjoy with no hurries every inch of skin. But it isn’t enough, he is hurting. The jeans jail’s been too much already, and he needs relief. He. And you, too.
Surely and quickly, you stand up just enough for him to take his jeans off. And Law delivers almost instantly. You discover clean legs, this time with no tattoos like the rest of his body and wonder if there is something he is waiting for to get them permanently drawn with.
Your fingernails trap the hem of his boxers, and pulling them down, you finally give his shaft a so needed freedom.
It is hard, it is perfectly sized and healthy too. The way its tip is covered in shiny essence, pushes you to gloat before such tempting imagery.
But he can’t wait no more. Law needs to feel the warmth of your insides surrounding him, like a wet hot hug of clenching shelter.
His nails bury into your hip sides, guiding you towards his dripping masculinity. As drippy as your core that drizzle with connecting strings of wetness, his purplish tip.
Looking up, with pleading eyes, Law awaits. You put an end to the torturing inches that separate both bodies, sitting so perfectly on his lap, letting his sex slide inside you, feeling the way it opens its way towards your centre.
As you finally reach the deepest point, Law’s arm surround your lower waist, pressing you so hard against him. Both take a moment to enjoy the connection, looking into each other’s eyes before he starts ramming in and out of you with merciless hips thrusts.
Your body on its own coordinates its motions to match Law’s, going back and forth, around, and up and down. Lips grazing, sloppy wet kisses, grunts, and whines…
It is time now, right? When the body, the soul and the heart reaches its climax…
“(Name)-ya, I’m madly in love with you ~” “Law, I loved you since the very beginning…”
You want an epilogue?! Yes! And it’s coming soon :3
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taybatwo2 · 4 months
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And another Magic Mixies Pixling review:
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Wynter the Bunny Pixling (with really bad eye wonk).
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She’s unusual that she is the first in the Magic Mixies Pixling line-up to have no molded on clothing-aside from her under-roos (still hoping for a knee joint, but she’s a great step in the right direction).
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A close up of her sweet and wonky face. Again, she is lightly pixelated, but it is MUCH better than Mattel’s pixelation. She also has a very sparkly head gem too (while I believe the others have had no sparkly backing to their gems).
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She has only one set of ears (thank you!! I really don’t care for the two pairs of human/animal ears some dolls have *cough, cough* Enchantimals *cough.*). They even sculpted fur on the outside! It’s very cute. Also, you can see the pearly tinsel in her hair here as well (her hair fiber is super soft, like Rainbow High/Shadow High’s kiwi hair).
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Here are her accessories: a fur lined, sparkly snowflake cape, a flocked headband, some pink glittery shoes with heart and fur details, and her wand/scepter (my favorite due to the little rabbit ears on top and the little bunny tail on the bottom).
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Only part of her dress is hemmed, and there is a ribbon inside to help it from riding up.
Okay Wynter, wave your magic wand to bring up some similar bunny/rabbit themed dolls to compare yourself to!
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*POOF*
more under the cut
Turns out there are quite a few bunny themed dolls out there, compared to the few I own.
Of course, they are the very cute Calico Critters/Sylvanian Family Rabbit Families (if I ever give in and buy one I’m doomed). They’re flocked, smaller than Wynter and have less articulation:
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Then there are these Chinese BJD’s:
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I actually might give in and buy -the whole set- ONE of them from this series….because they are ALL so cute:
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Both sets are fully articulated and are strung with elastic. I believe they are a bit taller than Wynter.
Okay, back to some dolls I do have:
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Wynter with Angel-Hop the Zelf (both from Moose Toys). In every review, I have said that they really seem to have some similarities in the line (or look like they would be the Pixling’s pet/sidekick). Angel-Hop also has molded on fur.
There were two other bunny Zelfs, the large Snowflake (going with a snow bunny theme like Wynter) and Sugar Bunny.
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But, the Zelfs that looked the most similar to Wynter was: Crystal Gemz Angelala! …the light pink one on the left: Float kinda reminded me of her hair blend l, so he also snuck into the picture.
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Their heart gems are not the exact mold, but they look VERY SIMILAR TO ONE ANOTHER. Her brother from another species’ mother…..
Okay, onto the Shopkins Wild Style: Melonie Hops and Bunny Bow. Both characters are flocked and waaaay smaller than Wynter. Besides them also being made by Moose Toys, and being bunnies as well, there isn’t much similarity (Wynter finds them adorable).
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There was a Shoppie who went along with Bunny Bow, Rainbow Kate. I believe that she is slightly taller than Wynter, but has less articulation, and I don’t know if her clothes are removable.
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Okay, now onto some non-Moose Toys. How about Na! Na! Na! Surprise! by MGA? Now they have a lot of bunnies! Including my Aubrey Heart (who seems to have more in common with the Zelf: Sugar Bunny than Wynter). Aubrey is a cloth doll over a plastic vase and has five points of articulation and is a good deal taller than Wynter with her bunny hat on (which is permanent and seen to her hair). Both have really soft hair fibers…
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This line also had allll of these bunny themed characters: Bebe Groovy and Melanie Mod (a second bunny doll named Melanie/Melonie). I believe these were released in the same series too.
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Alice Hope (second bunny girl with the last name “Hops,” and will be the first of two Alice in Wonderland references in this post) and another snow bunny: Aspen Fluff.
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Finally, they had “Black Bunny,” from the Ultimate Series (they’re MUCH bigger dolls with removable hats and rooted hair ….and were stupid expensive…)
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Okay, the other behemoth of bunny doll characters are Mattel’s Enchantimals (which I believe are still putting out characters/play sets, just not in the United States). I never cared for them due to their molded on clothing and the human ear/animal ear combo (I DESPISE it SO).
They are the same height as Pixlings, but with smaller proportions, and more limited articulation (and with molded on tops and removable skirts like Pixlings, but not executed as well IMO). I don’t own any bunny Enchantimals, so here are more stock photos for yoooou. Also, their set of bunny ears remind me of the Rankin and Bass’ “Here Comes Peter Cottontail’s” rabbits:
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There is another pink bunny girl: Bree Bunny and ANOTHER snow bunny: Bevy Bunny (a skirt and tank top are NOT snow appropriate clothing).
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There are Brystal Bunny and Blyss Bunny.
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aaaand the smaller (also pink) bunny: Bedelia Bunny (no relation to Amelia Bedelia) and another purple bunny: Becker Bunny (who comes with an fairly cute Farmer’s Market Playset and looks to have the extra knee joints, along with a new cute ear mold). Apparently, they are all related….
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And I would be remiss if I did not include Mattel’s Ever After High Bunny Blanc (daughter of Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit)…..she looks much cuter in the very enjoyable animated series and this stock photo than she does in real life.
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firespunalchemy · 9 months
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San and Ashitaka Build
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This pile (well, there's other stuff mixed in there) is in fact the San and Ashitaka costumes I built earlier this year. I tried to do a vaguely historical approach to shapes and materials since the film is also vaguely historical, but I used modern sewing because I barely know how to sew in general. This is also why I started with the bow.
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To make a fake bow, for some reason I didn't like the usual PVC option, so I decided to make a long noodle out of EVA foam, carve it into shape with a craft knife, then add exaggerated wood texture with a wood burning tool. That then got covered in Worbla and painted with several layers of acrylic + a leather strap glued for a hand grip. The bow's 'string' is just thick elastic cord.
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Arrows are dowel rods cut to length with EVA foam points at one end and foam fletching at the other. I accidentally made all his arrows the samurai's arrows (oops) and have no idea why I felt the need to not use real feathers. The quiver is just a muslin bag, pretty boring lol.
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His sword is balsa wood and a napkin ring all glued together then covered in Worbla (featured here by another costume's progress). The blade and ring got spray painted metallic, the handle got a leather wrap like the bow. The sheath is just a foam box wrapped in fake suede, not really worth an action shot.
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Ashitaka's (happi? haori? not really sure) took two attempts and still doesn't quite fit, oops. I dyed the fabric to a shade I liked, then used a YT tutorial on making the coat. His pants were bought online, and I made a lil pouch for his mysterious dried rations.
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I fully just kind of made the sleeve happen; sketched a shape, cut it out, then continued adding scraps until I got something that fit okay.
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Delicious bowl cut...his wig was a struggle, since I needed it to be rough and basic but not Lord Faarquad. It came out okay, but it truly is giving home haircut from the 80s.
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Let's switch to San! Most of her clothes were bought, and I made the accessories. So this giant pile of fur will turn into a separated cape and hood. You may notice two tones of color there: I chose a longer Mongolian fur for the outside and a shorter Sherpa for the inside, because no one likes to see the raw inside of fake fur. There are curtain weights sewn into the paw shapes and front drapes of cape and hood to help them not fall back.
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For most of San, I used Kinpatsu Cosplay's patterns as the base, and adjusted them to be slightly more masculine (and a lot longer) to fit my San. The apron was made of linen and hemmed so the outer edges can fray over time. We'll get to weathering in a minute (I did not take many WIP pics during making all of this).
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I made the mask really round and the eyes slightly farther apart to up the uncanniness of it. The mask and ears got base coated in black matte acrylic, then color slowly added using sea sponge.
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The dagger was made of a mix of foam and balsa wood that got glued together, then covered in Worbla. I spent way too long staring at the movie to decide the arrow shapes on the blade were raised rather than recessed. The blade got spray painted metallic, the arrows hand painted red, the pommel spray painted black. The handle got a leather strap wrap.
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Her necklace was a mix of wood and stone beads, and three toofs made of some very crusty foam clay I had sitting around. They got formed and dried around paintbrushes to make the stringing hole, sanded, then painted with acrylic to get that old tooth look. San's wig was basically used out of the bag, and her accessories were just foam wrapped in fabric with shell beads glued on.
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Weathering, the second most fun part of this build! I used a mix of dry brushing on acrylic paint in various brown and tan tones, spraying/splattering with a strong black tea, and using an airbrush to add dirt and wear to everything. A lot of edges and corners also got sanded to soften them and look less crisp and new.
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And then we got fancy professional photos! If you're in Texas, check if Wild Momo Photography is heading to your con. She's fantastic, truly. Hope you enjoyed reading through this journey, and it's potentially helpful if you're building your own cursed prince and wolf girl.
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fox-daddy · 10 months
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My MC; Kyle
Name: Kyle Bovin
Name meaning:Kyle from a placename (from the Irish Gaelic caol "narrow, strait").
It is sometimes translated from the Gaelic as "handsome."
Boivin is a french last name that translates to 'drink wine'
Age: (depends on rp)
Height: 4'4
Gender: trans male
Favorite season: spring
Favorite food: pancakes and Blueberries
Favorite flower: snowdrop
Favorite animal: Crow
Favorite drink: Apple cider/apple juice
Favorite colour: green and purple
Pet:rocky (He's a transgender rock )
Favorite creature: western dragon
Familiar: Kai (Kea)
Hair Colour: bright red
Hair style:short and slightly curvy hair. Not super curly like Asra's just slight curl to it. Although it is very thick easy for someone to run their fingers through.
Eye colour: greenish blue
Skin colour: Slightly toasted and has very small speakers of lighter and darker tones scattered around his body.
Body shape:he is very small with slightly chubby arms/leg and a slightly chubby belly. Being closest to Portia in body shape. He has a defined jaw despite the fact he has chubby cheeks. Or baby cheeks.
Outfit:green dragon cape, red scarf, silver dress with dark brown shoes. His dress has golden (not real gold) sleeves and hem and a small pocket over where his heart is. Inside he carries his pet rock, rocky. He also has a shoulder bag kinda like Asra its just very handy for keeping things in. Although he prefers his backpack due to it putting equal weight on both shoulders and has the capacity to carry more.
Extras: in winter he puts away his dragon cape and silver dress and wears a dark blue beanie with blue pom pom top. It has a lot of small red hearts all over the top and a pale blue snow flake design in the middle.
3 different shades of blue and one shade of red.
Along with a big fluffy jumper and thick pants.
Masquerade outfit: dark green tuxedo with a matching dark green Cape designed to look like feathers. Inside the cape is black with the middle of it being bright red with yellow stripes underneath the red. While the outside is almost completely dark green but blends into an easy to miss blue shade.
The cape is designed to look similar to how Kea wings look.
His mask is mainly dark green matching the rest of the outfit. With bright yellow around the eyes and a matching yellow curved beck. It is decorated with some blue and black markings
Fears:being completely alone, being in pure darkness (no not the same as normal night time darkness I mean void level darkness), heights and going home (even if he doesn’t remember why he’s scared to go home.)
Likes:hot chocolate, rain heavy or light, thunder, pancakes, snakes, lizards, animals in general, he likes a lot of things
[Some MC backstory spoilers ahead]
Past:all that he really knows is what he has been told by Asra and the others. Being a magician from small island off exploring new areas.
He meet Asra at the masquerade wearing a komodo dragon themed outfit. He showed up to few more mascarades before the plague hit each one as a different animal. Wanting to help he looked into the plague under the guidance of Julian learning the most he can about medicine during the disaster and finding his skill was best spent helping those on the Lazarent where everything went downhill from there. From catching the plague to being send to the furnace. He knows he could find out more about his past by going home but-
Everytime he tries to remember why he’s scared he gets small headache as it’s hard to tell if it’s truly the deal stopping him from remembering or himself as a defence mechanism.
Rocky's origin: While on the island helping with the plague victims Kyle felt utterly alone. So he went to the beach and after looking found a perfect rock that fit in his hand. It's smooth on one side rough on the other helping calm him down. So he kept it. Well dying of the plague he painted eyes on the rock and named it Pebbi the pebble. Pebbi the pebble stuck by Kyles side while he was dying. She was almost cremated with Kyle but kyle left a small box of a few items to be sent back to his shop trusting Asra to look after Pebbi and said items.
After coming back from the dead the first time Kyle discovered Pebbi in the shop it gave him a headache. However he was quick to re-adopt his pet rock under the new name rocky. Although he is very determined to remind Asra that rocky isn't a pebble he's a small rock.
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fashioneditswebsite · 2 months
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7 things you might have missed at Paris Fashion Week
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French style isn't always understated. There was a lot of rain and color at Paris Fashion Week, and even some surprises, including replicas. Here are some of the highlights you may have missed from the week… Sprinkles of rain at Hermès It rained outside the Hermès show at the Garde Républicaine in Paris, but this worked perfectly for creative director Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski, who also brought rain inside the venue. As models walked the runway in riding and ankle-length boots, wearing variations of soft earth tones, including red, brown, grey, and nude tailored coats and skin-tight leather dresses with glossy finishes, an elaborate sprinkler system sprayed them with raindrops. Some garments were even finished with fur, studs, and buckles, proving they were water-resistant. Chloé and Alexander McQueen debut new creative directors. Nothing leaves fashion audiences at the edge of their seats more than when a new creative director makes their debut – especially at a reputable luxury design house. During PFW, a former JW Anderson employee, Dublin-born Sean McGirr, took over from his predecessor Sarah Burton, who made her departure from Alexander McQueen after 20 years. For his debut collection, McGirr gave a nod to McQueen's 1995 spring/summer collection, "The Birds," most evidently in the show's first look. A model was wrapped in a compressed black latex midi dress that almost looked like clingfilm, paired with black heeled boots. Chemena Kamali—an alumna of Saint Laurent—made her creative director debut for Chloé with a collection inspired by the bohemian aesthetics of the 1970s. The collection included blouses with frills, wool capes, faux fur, and trousers with subtle flares. Famous faces walk the runway. Sam Smith appeared surprisedly at Andreas Kronthaler's experimental Vivienne Westwood show on Saturday and walked the runway twice. He first wore a draped tartan knicker creation with a plaid cape, platform-heeled boots, a tartan hat, and a wooden staff. The English singer-songwriter came out in a black shredded gown, which paid homage to Renaissance artist Giovanni Battista Moroni, whose work inspired the collection. A jersey isn't the first thing you would expect to see at PFW. Still, Argentine model Georgina Rodriguez, also the girlfriend of Portuguese football star Cristiano Ronaldo, graced the runway for the Swiss fashion label Vetements. Rodriguez wore a red jersey maxi dress, where the top half resembled Ronaldo's signed football jersey. Schiaparelli brought surrealism to life Since 1927, Maison Schiaparelli has been known for its whimsical designs and for bringing surrealism to life, and their PFW ready-to-wear collection show at the Hôtel de Boisgelin – which was masterminded by creative director Daniel Roseberry – was no different. Canadian model Shalom Harlow opened the show in a structured boxy black blazer with a measuring tape embroidery down the plunging neckline. Another model, also wearing a suit, paired it with a tie made from plaited hair. All black everything at Valentino Valentino stood out and turned its back on the hot pink shade it has incorporated into its designs over the last couple of years. In an entirely black collection called Le Noir – in comparison to the many colors seen across various shows – the Italian fashion house saw its creative director, Pierpaolo Piccioli, take a risk and prove that the color black also represents "an entire spectrum of shades, infinitely nuanced, within one," the brand wrote on X, formerly Twitter. The collection included shift dresses with furred hems, flowing and a-line gowns, balloon sleeves, black accessories, shoulder bags, and dark makeup. Former American tennis player Serena Williams was in attendance, along with Bridgeton's Simone Ashley and model and beauty founder Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. Kate Moss doppelganger at Marine Serre View this post on Instagram A post shared by Nikita Vlassenko (@nikitavlk) People were unsure whether they spotted Kate Moss walking across the runway at the Marine Serre show. But it wasn't her—it was her doppelganger, Denise Ohnona. She wore an oversized black leather jacket and matching over-the-knee boots, which featured the brand's classic crescent moon-shaped logo. She paired them with a white shirt, a shoulder handbag, and a gold-chained handle. Coffee cups, vegetable baskets, shopping bags, and a mother carrying a baby were all spotted. They pulled the audience into an ambiguous marketplace at a former railway shed in Paris called Ground Control. It fostered a sense of intimacy and community with chic clothes in which you could probably run errands alongside grand designs such as a black dress with built-in wings. Winnie Harlow also walked the runway and wore a ruched black spaghetti-sleeved dress and tights with the crescent logo in red. Fashion drama at Mugler It's safe to say Mugler's creative director, Casey Cadwallader, put on a grand and superfluous show at PFW. The French fashion house used silhouettes and vignettes and dropped curtains from center stage to progressively unveil the new collection, which included slinky dresses, sheer corsets, molded leather, and garments that looked like they were melting off the models' bodies. There were also asymmetrical skirts, belt buckles, and printed pieces – designed in partnership with Canadian surrealist painter Ambera Wellmann. Brooklyn Beckham and Nicola Peltz sat next to Alexander Edwards and Tyga. Julia Fox, who wore a sheer feathered salmon dress with ethereal glitter makeup, sat next to Emma Chamberlain and Lisa Rinna. Models sauntered across a darkened room, with spotlights illuminating the slinky collection, as they stepped through dry ice to reach the media pit, where they posed for flashing lights. Louis Vuitton goes big. To mark ten years since his first collection for Louis Vuitton, Nicolas Ghesquière turned their autumn/winter show into a massive celebration, with almost 4,000 people in attendance. With the help of visual artist Philippe Parreno and producer-designer James Chinlund, Ghesquière blended fashion and art while turning the Louvre's Cour Carrée into a futuristic greenhouse. The greenhouse also included 13 large chandeliers that resembled a data and electrical supply system. The star-studded audience included Kelly Rowland, Phoebe Dynevor, and Emma Stone, who watched as models walked the runway in dresses with the fashion brand's classic logo all over them and long, sheer evening wear that gave a nod to the collection's classic futurism. They also wore sportswear-inspired white coats, oversized fur coats, playful sequins, metallic gold suits, and textured blouses. By By Yolanthe Fawehinmi and Prudence Wade, PA Read the full article
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brainyxbat · 3 months
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Chapter 1: A Town That Welcomes Pirates? Setting Foot on Whisky Peak
(episode 64)
After leaving Reverse Mountain with Mr. 9 and Ms. Wednesday in tow, the crew encountered a snowfall.
Nami watched grumpily from inside the cabin, bundled up in a green coat, red earmuffs, and a yellow plaid scarf. "What in the world is with this snow? It was warm just a little while ago."
Outside, the boys were playing with the cold, white fluff. "All right! Done!" Luffy finished a goofy-looking snowman with wooden beams for the nose and arms, a green cape, and a barrel on the head. "This is the man that fell from the sky, Mr. Snow Barrel!"
Usopp chuckled with a smirk. "That's such a crude snowman."
"What?!"
"Look at my soulful artwork, the Snow Queen!" He proudly presented his sculpture; a tall, elegant woman sitting on a round throne.
Luffy's eyes widened. "Whoa! That's incredible!"
Venus grinned brightly, as she buttoned up her bat-hem cloak. "That's amazing!"
"Thank you! My good friend Kaya, who gave us the Going Merry, was my muse!"
"Your friend Kaya? Ooh, interesting~," She teased, and giggled.
"Oh, no no no! We're best friends, and nothing else!" He insisted frantically.
"Ah. Well, that's great! And you did amazingly there!"
Through their conversation, Luffy felt challenged. "Okay then! Snow Barrel Punch!"
"How about next, I make one of-" Usopp was cut off by a beam totaling the head of his creation.
"Luffy!" Venus glared, as the sniper slowly became unhinged.
"What the hell are you doing?!" He kicked through the snowman's head, making the barrel cave in to the body.
"Ahh! Mr. Snow Barrel! How dare you!" He tackled the sniper angrily.
Usopp chucked snowballs at an incredibly rapid pace. "Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"
Luffy retaliated with rolling a large snowball in his direction, chasing him. "How is this?!"
Usopp pursued him with the snow boulder, now with an imprint shaped like his own body, over his head. "You bastard! Hold it, Luffy!"
As Venus pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, Nami watched them with irritation. "How come they're so energetic when it's this cold?"
Meanwhile, Sanji was at work in shoveling the snow off the ship, and into the ocean. "Nami-san! How much snow shoveling of love would you like me to do?!" He gushed.
"Please continue until it stops snowing, Sanji-kun!"
"Yaay! Nami-san!"
"Hey, you," Mr. 9 sneered to the navigator, as he and Ms. Wednesday sat at the table, each wrapped in a blanket, "Doesn't this ship have a heater?"
"I'm cold," She complained.
"Shut up! You guys aren't guests!" Nami yelled. "Go help shovel snow, or something!"
Venus grabbed Usopp's elbow when he was still angry with Luffy. "Come on, let's drop it. Usopp, want to make snow angels?"
"Sure thing!" He beamed, quickly forgotten by the captain, and they laid down in a more clear area. As he moved his arms and legs accordingly, his mind wandered. What was Venus doing to him? Why was he so nervous around her? His heart fluttered when he saw her brightly smiling face, snowflakes dotting her ivory skin, and long green hair; what was wrong with him?
-
Later on, the weather changed yet again. "Lightning?! What on Earth is going on with the weather around here?!" She watched, as strong gusts of wind blew the flag like crazy. "It was sunny up until recently. The next moment, it started snowing, and now lightning. The seasons, as well as the weather, go around randomly. It's just like what Crocus-san said."
"That's how it is in the Grand Line," Ms. Wednesday informed.
"It seems that you guys're clueless about the Grand Line," Mr. 9 added.
"You haven't been steering for a while now," Ms. Wednesday pointed out with a devious grin, "Is that really okay?"
Nami perked up at that. "I just checked the direction." She left the cabin to look again. "Ahhhh!" She screamed in terror.
Usopp sat up with Venus. "Wh-what?"
"What's the matter?" Luffy looked in her direction.
"What's wrong, Nami-san?!"
She gaped at her Log Pose in horror. "Ahhh... no way! Turn the ship around 180 degrees! Hurry!"
"180 degrees?!" Usopp exclaimed. "Why're we going back?!"
"Did you forget something?" Luffy asked.
"The ship has turned around, and is going in the opposite direction! When I looked away from the Log Pose for a second...! The waves were calm earlier."
"Are you really a navigator?" Nami glared at Ms. Wednesday's sassy remark. "In this sea, you can't trust the winds, sky, waves, clouds... anything. The only thing that doesn't change is the direction that the Log Pose points. Do you understand that?"
Nami kicked both prisoners off the table. "Stop bossing me around in those cozy blankets, and go help already!" She then ran outside. "Brace the yard! Receive the wind from starboard! Turn the ship 180 degrees to the left! Usopp, Venus! Take care of the lateen sail!"
"Okay!"
"Got it!" He rushed to do so with the witch.
"Sanji-kun! Take the helm!"
"Leave it to me, Nami-san!"
"You guys! I'm counting on you!"
"She's such a slave driver," Mr. 9 griped, as he and Ms. Wednesday worked.
"Hey, wait!" Usopp noticed. "The wind has changed."
"No way!"
Sure enough, a warm gust came in, blowing the clouds away from the sun. "It's the first spring gale!" Mr. 9 cheered.
Nami looked on in awe. "Why?!"
To Usopp's annoyance, Zoro was asleep through everything going on. "Don't just sleep while the snow accumulates on you!"
The girls took off their winter outerwear for the warmer weather, as Luffy watched the horizon. "Hey! I saw a dolphin jump over there! Let's go there."
"You keep quiet!" Nami ordered.
Usopp stood on the rope ladder for a better look. "The waves are getting high! I see an iceberg in the 10 o'clock direction!"
"Nami-san! It's getting foggy!" Sanji reported.
"What the hell's with this sea?!"
"W-w-we're gonna crash!!" Usopp screamed. Sanji strained to pull the helm, Nami soon helping, while Venus hugged Usopp's closest leg in fear, and Zoro was still fast asleep. The ship ended up grazing the iceberg at one side.
Nami ran outside when Luffy returned from the lower deck. "Hey! Water's leaking at the bottom of the ship!" He reported.
"We have to patch it right away!"
"Got it!" Usopp ran down with tools and wood, as Venus followed close behind.
"The clouds are moving fast!" Nami remarked, as dark clouds came rolling in over them. "W-wind's coming!"
Luffy held the brim of his hat. "It's strong!"
Ms. Wednesday watched with horror. "It's coming!"
"Unfurl the sails!" Nami ordered. "That wind is too strong! If we take it directly, we'll overturn!"
Sanji emerged from the kitchen, carrying a platter with onigiri rice balls. "Everyone! Eat this! Let's gather our strength!" He set the platter on a pair of barrels, and everyone crowded over to dig in, before returning to their positions. Mr. 9 callously pushed Venus away, rendering her unable to grab any, so Usopp swiped extras to give her while they worked. Sanji glared at Luffy when he was greedily stuffing his face. "You're eating too much!" He scolded with a punch to his head.
As Nami struggled to unfurl the bigger sail through the wind, a ripping sound caught Usopp's attention. He turned to Venus, who was finishing her last rice ball while hammering nails in the wood planks. "Stay here!" She nodded, and continued hammering, as he ran up to see what happened. "Oh crap! The sail is torn!"
"Forget about things up here," Nami ordered. "Go help Venus fix the bottom of the ship!"
"There's another part of the bottom of the ship damaged!" Ms. Wednesday reported, holding the door open.
"Dammit!" Usopp leaped back down to find the poor witch struggling to patch up both damaged areas on her own. He frantically took one of the hammers out of her mouth. "Focus on one spot! I got the other!"
"Okay!"
-
Before long, the chaos came to an end, and everything was peaceful again. Zoro stretched his arms with a long grunt, and sat up from the railing. "Ahhh, that felt good." He walked around the mast to find the rest of the crew laid out on the deck, exhausted. Usopp rested against the railing, Sanji was completely sprawled out face-up, and Venus was in the former's lap. "Hey, no matter how nice the weather is, you guys shouldn't be so lazy," He chastised, and turned to find Nami with her arm draped from the upper deck. "We'd better be on the right track."
"You..." Usopp, Venus, Sanji, and Nami started seething in fury.
"Hm?" He found Mr. 9 and Ms. Wednesday laid out by the mast. "Why're you guys on this ship?"
"You're slow!" Mr. 9 exclaimed.
"We're heading to their town right now," Luffy said, "It's called Whisky Peak."
"You mean we're taking them back? We don't owe them anything."
"Right, we don't," Luffy crossed his arms.
"Well, not like it matters to me." Zoro knelt down, after they sat up. "Yeah, your faces say that you're thinking bad thoughts," He taunted, "What were your names again?"
They flinched back in fear. "I-I'm Mr. 9."
"I'm Ms. Wednesday."
"Right," He grinned, "Something has been bothering me ever since I first heard your names." They stood on their feet with nervousness. "I feel like I've heard them somewhere before, or maybe not." They flinched again. "Well, either way-" He was interrupted by a hard punch in his head.
Nami. "How dare you sleep comfortably all this time," She growled, "You kept sleeping no matter how many times we tried to wake you up."
"What?!" He looked back.
She gave him three big bumps on his head. "Don't let your guard down, everyone! We don't know what else might happen." Usopp and Venus listened, as Sanji had a smoke, still laying down, and Luffy sat on the railing with a fishing pole. "I was finally able to realize the danger of this sea just now. I was able to understand why it's called the Grand Line. There's no doubt about it since my navigation skills don't work at all."
"How blunt," Usopp remarked, as Venus sat up, "Are we gonna be okay?"
"We'll be fine!" She assured. "Things will still work out for sure. In fact... look!" She pointed to an island that appeared to be consisted of green, multi-sized cacti. "Our first journey is over." Everyone looked on in awe, as they descended closer.
Luffy returned to his seat on the prow. "It's an island!"
"Alright!" Venus cheered.
"So this is Whisky Peak," Sanji remarked, "But it's a really funny looking island."
"Those cacti are huge!" Luffy exclaimed.
"It's like a desert," Venus pointed out, "Only no sand."
"Hm?" Everyone turned around when their prisoners jumped on the railing.
"Well then, we'll be leaving now," Mr. 9 announced.
"Thanks or taking us home, honeys," Ms. Wednesday added.
"If we're linked by fate, we'll meet again!"
"Bye bye, baby!" With that, they leaped into the ocean.
"Huh?" Usopp, Venus, and Nami watched in confusion, as they swam to the island.
"They're gone," Nami remarked.
"Who on Earth were they?" Usopp wondered aloud.
"I hope they're not power holders," Venus commented.
"Who cares!" Luffy beamed. "We're landing!"
"There's a river at the front," Nami pointed out, "Looks like we can go inland by ship."
Usopp started feeling nervous. "I-isn't it possible that there're monsters, or things like that?"
"It's definitely possible," Sanji remarked, "This is the Grand Line."
"If we come across islands, we can just leave the island," Luffy proposed.
"Hold on a sec," Nami realized, "Don't forget that we have to stay on this island for a certain period of time."
"Oh, that's right," Venus nodded.
"Why?" Luffy asked.
Nami held up her wrist with the Log Pose. "Unless we store the magnetism of this island in the Log Pose, we can't go to the next island. Since each island requires a different amount of time to store the log, some islands require only several hours, while others require days."
Usopp was scared of those odds. "Th-then even when this is a monster island that we want to escape from right away, it's possible that we have to stay her for days, until the log is stored?"
"That's right."
Luffy beamed. "Well, we can think about that when it happens. Let's go already!"
"Luffy's right," Zoro chimed in, "Let's go. It's not worth thinking about."
"No matter what happens, I'll protect Nami-san and Venus-chan," Sanji vowed.
Usopp started holding his throat. "H-hey, wait. Listen, everyone; my chronic illness is suddenly..."
"You're sick?" Venus innocently turned to him in concern.
"Yes! My "do not go to the island" disease is-"
"Then we're going in," Nami declared.
"No..."
"Listen. Make sure you're prepared to run, as well as fight."
"Ah, well, like I said, my chronic illness is- well, I guess you're not listening."
"I wonder what'll appear," Sanji remarked.
"P-please."
"Guys, Usopp says he's sick!"
"Venus, I'll explain later," Zoro said.
In the fog, some local men were watching the ship with binoculars. "Hey, it's a pirate ship."
"Pirates are here!"
-
As they floated through the river, Luffy spotted something ahead. "Huh? Something's moving."
"Humans?" Sanji watched the silhouettes watching them. "Humans are there!"
"Everyone, be careful," Nami ordered.
"Gotcha," Venus nodded, and prepared her hands.
Usopp's legs shook, as he drew back his slingshot. "Ahhh, dammit! Since it's come to this, I've prepared myself. Monsters, or whatever you are, come on out!"
To their surprise, instead of trying to attack... everyone cheered! "Welcome to the Grand Line! To the welcoming town, Whisky Peak!"
"Hey, they're cheering for us!" Venus pointed out.
Usopp looked through his goggles in surprise. "Yeah! F-far from monsters, we're being welcomed!"
"What's going on?" Sanji asked in confusion.
"Pirates! Welcome to our town!"
"Hurray for the heroes on the sea!"
Sanji brightened up when he noticed some beauties in the crowd. "Whoa! There're lots of cute girls!"
"Ahh! Look this way! They're handsome!"
"Hello, cutie!" Venus blushed at the guys gawking in her direction. She didn't know why they would say it about her, but she liked it.
"Maybe pirates are people's heroes after all," Nami remarked, as Usopp blew kisses at the crowd.
"Heeeey!" Luffy cheered.
-
"Welco-" A man with giant white curls, and a saxophone started his greeting, but started to clear his throat. "Ma-ma-ma~," He sang to test his voice, then continued, "Welcome. My name is Igarappoi. I'm the mayor of Whisky Peak."
"Okay. I'm Luffy; nice to meet you. Pops, you went overboard on curling your hair."
"Whisky Peak is a town that thrives on making liquor and music. Hospitality is the pride of our town. As for our proud liquor, it's as bountiful as the seawater. Would you allow us to throw a party for you, so that we may hear your tales of-" He cleared his throat again. "Ma-ma-ma~. Your tales of adventure?"
"We'll be glad to!" Sanji, Luffy, and Usopp exclaimed with ecstasy, and started to hop away. "All right!"
"Yeah!" Venus cheered, as she followed with jumps, leaving Nami and Zoro behind.
"Four idiots," Nami remarked. "Say, by the way," She held up her Log Pose for Igarappoi to see, "How long will it take for the log of this island to be stored?"
"Log? Forget such boring stuff," He dismissed, "Please just rest after a long journey." He stood behind her, and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Now, everyone! Prepare for the party! Sing to entertain the adventurers!"
"Party time!!" Everyone cheered.
Little did the Straw Hats know... they were being watched.
-
Later that night, as the moon was in its last quarter, the partying still commenced. People drank themselves silly, and played loud music with various instruments. A drunk Usopp was telling one of his tall tales to some of the partiers. "Then I said with utter coolness, "Sea Kings, don't you touch my friends.""
"Wow..."
"Captain Usopp!"
"You're so amazing!"
"Well, regarding the Calm Belt, even though I trembled a bit, though. A tremble of excitement, that is."
"Whoa!"
"Amazing!"
"Cheers to Usopp-san!"
From the bar, Venus listened on with a smile. "The story amusing you?" The bartender asked.
"Yeah, it does. Though I remember some slight differences."
"Ah. Can I get you a drink?"
"Oh, I don't drink," She turned the offer down gently, "I never have. Ironically, I lived in a bar for a few years."
"Come on, cutie," He insisted, "You were never tempted before?"
"Cutie?" She raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion. "Why're you calling me that?"
"Just stating facts." That didn't answer her question. "Let me treat you; it's on me."
She pondered the idea for a moment. What did she have to lose? And she couldn't let such kindness go in vain. "Well... there's a first for everything!" She decided cheerfully. "Gimme one, please!"
"Great!" He poured her a drink in a barrel-like mug. "Here you go."
"Thanks!" She had a little sip, and blinked in surprise. "Not bad!" She started downing it, while leaning back.
Nami sat on an L-shaped couch, Zoro on the other side, as a full mug set in front of her. "Now, please don't hold back, drink up," Igarappoi offered.
"No, thank you," She kindly refused, "I'd rather not drink alcohol."
"Don't worr-" He cleared his throat, "Ma-ma-ma~. Don't worry. It's a special drink made of prime grapes that are used to make prime wine. Its flavor is wine itself, but it doesn't contain alcohol."
"I see," Nami had a sip, and grinned brightly, "You're right! This is delicious!"
"We had a good grape harvest again this year. Now, to celebrate the harvest, we'll have our usual toast competition!" The patrons cheered at that. "That is, you continue to toast, and the last one standing is the winner. Please join in on our competition."
"No, thanks. I can't drink that much."
"The prize money for the winner is 100,000 berries!" Igarappoi took a bag bearing the currency symbol out of his jacket.
Nami was on her feet, now determined. "Another cup, please!" She then turned to the swordsman. "Zoro! You participate too! You don't have money, do you?"
"What?!"
"Cheers!" Everyone toasted.
-
As Luffy vigorously stuffed his face, Zoro was in the competition. "Whoa! Amazing! He finished his 10th cup!" He slammed the mug on the table.
"This is it," His rival collapsed on the table. "I can't drink anymore."
"This girl's downing her 12th cup!"
Nami wiped her mouth with satisfaction, as two competitors fell behind her. "Take that!"
"More food!" A round-bellied Luffy held out his platter.
"Whoa! The captain finished a meal for 20 people!"
The chef collapsed with a grin, still holding his knife. "The cook is down!"
"Please, I can't go on..."
"Hey, the spellcaster is getting down!" Sure enough, a drunk Venus was dancing all along the bar quite enthusiastically, her plaits swinging about. "How many drinks did she have?!"
"J-just one!" The bartender sputtered, feeling shocked himself. "That prime grape kind!"
"One?! That's crazy!"
"She was so meek before; now she's quite bold!"
Usopp paused his tale, and didn't notice the listeners demanding he continue, as his eyes were on Venus, blushing. He watched her hair fly all around; the way her short bangs bounced below her brow... she was so cute.
And pretty.
What the hell was wrong with him?!
Sanji meanwhile, was in his personal heaven; surrounded by pretty girls. "Whoa! This young man is trying to hit on 20 girls at the same time!"
"What's with this gang?!"
Igarappoi laughed. "It's really a fu-" He cleared his throat. "Ma-ma-ma~. A fun night! I'm glad that you all seem to be having fun." His smile turned more devious. "Yes, indeed, I'm very glad."
-
"For that reason, we failed our mission of securing food," Mr. 9 was writing his and Ms. Wednesday's report, "However, we'd like to report that we succeeded in leading the gang to Cactus Island, baby. All right!" He finished writing, and rolled the paper up. "If we submit this, we somehow should be able to clear our names."
"Right," Ms. Wednesday grabbed the roll, "I'll drop it in the Unluckies Box immediately." She walked outside, and dropped the roll in a mailbox bearing an eagle and otter... and a Jolly Roger emblem with "Baroque" above it. "They'll deliver it for us... to the boss."
-
In the bar, Zoro finally set his mug down. "This is it. I quit. I'm gonna sleep." He flopped face-down on the table.
"Whoa! The young man is finally down after his 13th cup."
"What?!" A blushing Nami glared. "You're hopeless, Zoro!"
"There's only two left."
"They're at the 15th cup. She's competing against the sister."
The nun lifted her mug to her lips. "You should quit too, for your own sake."
"Don't be silly! I definitely won't quit, until I get the prize money." She laughed pridefully.
-
Luffy flopped down on the floor in exhaustion. "Ahhh! Thanks for the food. I can't eat any more."
Next to him, two more cooks flopped down by the first. "Three cooks are also down!"
"Glad you enjoyed it," One muttered.
-
As Nami downed her mug, the nun laid on the table. "I can't drink anymore."
She wiped her mouth, and held out her empty mug. "I won!!" She laughed victoriously, and flopped down on the table deliriously. "Ahh, what fun."
"She's finally down."
Usopp leaned back in relaxation. "What a nice town." He turned to see Venus still dancing, but now on the floor. She certainly was attractive.
Why was he having these thoughts?
She was coming his way.
"Woo!" She flopped down next to him. "That was fun."
He chuckled, as she giggled. "You're a good dancer."
"Thanks! Maybe next time... you can dance with me."
His cheeks turned red. "Really?"
She nodded. "It can go with your stories."
"Y-yeah, maybe," He stammered.
What was she doing to him?
Meanwhile, Sanji's head was happily rested on a girl's lap. "This is a paradise."
-
Deeper into the night, all the Straw Hats were out like lights. Zoro was still at the table, Usopp was leaned back on the couch, Venus' head was face-up in his lap, Nami was at her table, Luffy was on the floor, and Sanji was laid out face-down on the bench. "So, they wore themselves out partying, and fell asleep," Igarappoi remarked outside, "Sweet dreams, adventurers. Again, tonight the Cactus Rocks look beautiful, dancing under the moonlight."
Mr. 9 and Ms. Wednesday sat on the roof of the building across from where the partying was going on. "You're such a poet, Igarappoi, no, Mr. 8," He corrected himself.
"Oh, it's you guys."
They jumped down on the ground. "What happened to them?" Ms. Wednesday asked.
"They've fallen." Mr. 8 started to walk away, and turned back to them. "To hell."
The disgruntled nun stepped outside to join. "Geez... since they're a little stubborn, I added a little alcohol in their drinks. Otherwise, they might still be up, and having a good time." She took off her disguise, revealing her short, pink pigtails, muscular build, white boots, and a pink and white checkerboard mini dress with green daisies. "But was it really necessary to put on an elaborate act, for just six weak-looking brats? We should've just beat them at the harbor. This town is already short of food. Also, we didn't have our hopes up for the whale meat anyway."
"You didn't have to say it like that!" Mr. 9 glared defensively. "We did try our best!"
"Calm down," Mr. 8 ordered, "Look at this. I've checked them out beforehand." He took Luffy's wanted poster out of his jacket.
"Th-thirty million berries?!" The three exclaimed in shock.
"Them?!" Mr. 9 sputtered.
"It's foolish to judge a pirate's ability based on their looks, Ms. Mon-" He cleared his throat. "Ma-ma-ma~. Ms. Monday."
She rubbed her head sheepishly. "S-sorry."
"But we've already settled. Looks like we can send a good report to the boss. Confiscate all the money, and other valuables on the ship immediately."
"So what about them?" Ms. Monday asked.
"What do we do?" Mr. 9 added.
"If we kill them, the bounty drops by 30%. The Government wants to hold public executions. Go! Capture them alive!"
"Hey. Sorry, but..." Zoro sat cross-legged on a roof behind them, to their shock, sword drawn, "Do you mind letting them sleep? They're all exhausted from the journey this afternoon."
A couple of men rushed outside. "Mr. 8! Ms. Monday! The guy with the bellyband escaped from the room when we weren't looking!"
Ms. Wednesday glared at their late report. "He's over there."
"You bastard...!" Mr. 8 glared. "I thought you were completely asleep!"
Zoro grinned with pride. "Swordsmen never make the mistake of letting their guard down that much." He stood on his feet, as he observed their tough exteriors. "So, let's see if I've got this right. This is a nest of bounty hunters. You dupe pirates who are in high spirits after having just entered the Grand Line. Looks like there're about 100 bounty hunters here. I'll fight you all... Baroque Works!"
The agents flinched in shock. "You bastard!" Mr. 8 exclaimed. "How is it you know our company's name?!"
"When I used to be in a similar line of work, I was recruited by your company once. Naturally, I rejected it. Employees don't know each other's identities, and are called by code names. Of course, the boss' whereabouts, and his identity are also a mystery, even to them. Baroque Works is a criminal group that just faithfully carries out their orders. Humph!" He grinned. "Was it a secret?"
"This is surprising," Mr. 8 remarked, "If you know our secrets, then we have no other choice, but to kill you." Zoro stared silently, undeterred. "Another gravestone will be added to the Cactus Rocks." It was then, when the swordsman noticed: said rocks were cemeteries! The "thorns" were cross-shaped gravestones, scattered all over each rock. "Kill him!"
But Zoro was gone, to everyone's shock. "H-he disappeared!" Ms. Wednesday exclaimed, wide-eyed.
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mars1nicomartin-hahn · 4 months
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Making the things going inside the orb:
The plushie already inside, is a reference to what I’ll be making in the end. I first made a cape for my little creature as once I saw the material I thought it would be really cool to use as sort of clothing for them. I hemmed the top of it so that it would be smooth once it goes on them. I used a running stitch, as it would be easy to use and it didn’t show up much on the outside of the material.
For my plushie character, I was inspired by one of my personal interests. I credited the person who created most of the lore I wrote on the worksheet, on the right side of it. The characters name is Raze they are a star Captain, the reason they became one was to defeat the anarchist who turns out to be their ex husband, who they still care about. They defeat him and then decide to stay on a mountain to be able to protect the city below from any threats that may arise.
The reason I chose them to be the character trapped in the orb is from were the story is right now, they were trapped by Makkaro, a necromancer who is trying to take over the world. Also the series is coming to its end so I wanted to show my appreciation to the creators work.
Link to the series + YouTube channel (basically):
The last episode of the series was posted 26/1/23
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ms0milk · 2 years
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a quiet kind of panic
| rengoku x fem reader
the flame Hashira realizes his boisterous personality isn't always comforting in his love's times of need
a/n: i suffer from panic attacks from time to time and having someone as loving as rengoku in a moment of anxiety would be balm for the soul- the man is running circles in my mind
c/w: panic attacks, a touch of angst, heart healing comfort
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Cool September evenings meant warm fires at the Rengoku estate. Finally. The days it took to travel home after a mission flew by and with little motivation to stop and rest, Kyojuro had barely one night’s sleep to tide him over the past four days. How could he possibly calm down enough to sleep when you were waiting at home for him?
He stood in the entryway to his home and watched the mansion from outside for a few seconds. He shifted his duffel on his shoulder.
There you were. Pacing in your study.
Were you wearing the printed komon he brought back for you last mission? Had you eaten yet? Maybe you’d take a bath with him even though he was more than a bit filthy from the road. Your silhouette moved stiffly in front of a few lit candles. Strange. The sliding door to the room was wide open and the embers in the fireplace were dim. You must be freezing.
“Darling!” Kyojuro bellowed and crossed the threshold onto his property. If it was possible, he grinned wider. “I’m home!” That kind of smile would make any other man’s cheeks sore.
You spun around to stare across the yard, clutching at the neckline of your robe. You slumped to your knees at the sight of him. He was back.
“My love!” He chuckled and dropped his bag on the ground outside your room. He kicked off his sandals and stepped inside, immediately kneeling down to embrace you. But you pushed him away with stiff arms. The first time you’d been able to touch each other in two weeks and you pushed him away? Why were you breathing so heavily?
“Y/n?”
“Ky-Kyo I- can’t–”
“Nonsense! I’m real, I’m right here of course you can touch me!” He laughed loudly, sweetly, and cupped your tight fist in a large warm hand, “See?”
“I– Kyo no, I– I don’t–”
Why weren’t you leaping into his arms like always? Usually the only way he could escape your worried kisses was to spin you around until the two of you were snorting and giggling in the grass from dizziness.
“My darling?”
“The– the crow Kyojuro!”
“What?” He stared down at you, a heaving pile against the wall. He tried to wrap his hands around your waist again but you squirmed away from his advances.
“No don’t– please– I– I can’t– don’t– Kyo–”
Your breath caught somewhere before your throat, like you couldn’t breathe in at all. Were you fighting back tears? Sweat collected on your forehead. Kyojuro knelt frozen a few inches in front of you. His arms hung outstretched slightly and his smile was long gone. “Y/n? Love, what happened? Are you hurt?”
You bunched the hem of your komon up in your fists and tried to push yourself further into the wall. Breathe, breathe just– he’s home– you can breathe, don’t– no– stop panicking!
“Th–the crow Kyo– I thought, I didn’t know– you– are you–”
Where was the mistress of his home? The woman his students feared with or without a sword? The woman who could drink Shinobu under the table? Who seldom cried and who usually tackled him to the ground when he returned from a mission?
He fumbled quickly with his belt and let his sword clatter to the floor. Unclasped his cape. He leaned in slightly, not close enough to startle you again, this time in only his black corps uniform, “The crow came while I was gone?”
You shook, nodded your head, your arms, your legs. If you were screaming this would have been less heartbreaking to watch. But your silent panic, trapped inside yourself in this trembling ball, wrenched at Kyojuro’s insides. He held back tears.
“Did you think I.. that I was hurt? That I was killed?”
You raised your hands to your mouth to hide your panting. Clenched your jaw in response. Your breathing wasn’t calming down.
“Y/n I’m okay. Don’t cover your mouth my love, breathe. With me.” Kyojuro knew how much power breathing held. He exaggerated a deep inhale to get your attention and sat neatly on his knees. “In four, out eight.”
You anxiously tried to follow his instructions. He even tapped out the count on the floor with his finger. His eyes closed and soft smile on his lips, he sat quietly with you. You struggled to get your breathing under control; if it was as easy as counting you wouldn’t exactly be hyperventilating on the floor, but Kyojuro wasn’t rushed. You scrunched your eyes shut to concentrate and loosened the grip on your robe in shaking fists.
“In four Y/n. One, two, perfect, perfect. And hold your breath for me, just for a second and then let it out. Perfect. You’re perfect. I’m here with you.”
Kyojuro reached forward and brushed his thumb across your cheek, waiting to cup your face until you were comfortable enough to be held. But even curled up on the floor, eyes still closed, you leaned into the palm of his hand.
You both kept breathing, him counting quietly and you relaxing steadily.
He’s home. He’s safe, it's okay. Don't be afraid.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. The rough calluses on his fingertips were gentle against your clammy skin. Reaching up to hold his hand, you opened your eyes just as he exhaled through a smile.
The last of the summer crickets cried outside. The Hashira smelled faintly of fire and the blood in your ears finally stopped racing for long enough to hear the wind whisking through the wisteria arbor.
Kyojuro placed a second hand on your other cheek and held your flushed face so that he could finally look at you.
“I’m sorry.” He took a moment, “I was so excited to see you, I didn’t realize you were panicking. I shouldn’t have been so loud.”
You heaved a single sob on the floor in front of him and finally burst into tears. Finally made a sound.
He half pulled you in, half caught you as you melted into his chest. Tears barreled down your cheeks and wet the shoulder of his uniform. He had to spread his legs open to hold you as close as he wanted to. Tucked into his chest, the way he liked.
“Kyojuro! I thought you’d lost this time! The crow–”
“And leave you here alone?! My darling, how could I ever?”
You wrapped your arms under his and clenched his sweaty, grimey uniform. It smelled like him. It smelled like smoke.
“I’m here, Y/n.” A few tears of relief spilled out of his own shining eyes and he tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder. You held each other, shaking, until it was too cold to be without a fire.
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pockcock · 3 years
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couldn't stop thinking about Hak... I don't regret anything
warnings: guard!hak x f!reader. breath play. dub-con. somnophilia. belly bulge. a bit angst at the end.
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Imagine Hak as your guard.
Imagine him coming to your room in the middle of the night, slowly approaching you who is sleeping peacefully. He removes his clothes, carefully placing them next to your bed, then lifts up your duvets to reveal your sleeping gown. Sheer silk covers enough of your body, wrinkles of the fabric accentuating your curves. You’re beautiful. And he wants you, he wants you now.
Trying his best not to wake you up, he gets under the duvets. His hands slowly roaming your body, it feels like the movements of a snake. So slow, so smooth and so soft. He then finds the hem of your gown, lifting it up to reveal your panties. Soon after his calloused fingertips find your clit, drawing eights on it… stealing your pretty moans.
“Princess…” His voice is husky with arousal, the night can be felt in his tone. He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to inhale your heavenly scent. It’s intoxicating, agonizing and amazing. With a not-so-innocent kiss he gives, your jawline feels sticky with his spit. He bites a bit, you wince with his motion. Too sleepy to wake up but getting aroused enough to want to wake up.
He puts your panties aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You shiver as the cold weather of the night hits your cute and wet pussy. You open your eyes as you feel his thick fingers playing with your entrance.
“Wake up, Princess.” Even in bed, he is still respectful, using the right words. As soon as he sees your eyes open, a grin coats his lips. “There you go…”
“H-Hak-”
He shushes you, putting a hand on your lips. “No, no, no… Be quiet Princess. You don’t wanna wake up anyone, do you?” When you shake your head with disapproval, he kisses your crown. “Now, that’s a good girl.”
Before you even know he was inside you. Pushing himself deep into your tightness, his groan is lost into your neck as he bites. His hand is now gripping your throat, he won’t let you breathe. He never does.
“Feel me, Princess?” He asks, his hand is on your tummy to feel himself going in and out. Hak finds your hands gripping the sheets, he leads them to your tummy to feel the enormous bulge. “Feel how deep I am?”
“Hak!” You menage to say when his hand loosens around your neck to get a better grip. He likes to have you under his control when he fucks you deep and slow. “H-ak, ple–”
He lets go of your neck, covers your mouth instead. “I know, Princess. Just be quiet and I’ll give you everything you want.”
No skin slapping is heard, Hak is so careful not to alert or let anyone know during intimate times. Your love is forbidden; he is a general, a soldier and you’re the Princess. You two can never be together. Officially. That’s why Hak is in your bedroom each night. That’s why he fucks you so deep and slow. There are times where you two go outside the palace to ‘wander’ in the woods on horseback, those times are when Hak bends you over a rock near a river to have you hard. Those times are when he steals your pretty screams and you steal his feral growls. Those times where you can be as wild as you like.
“You’re close…” He whispers, out of breath but still going strong. “Will you cum for me, Princess?” You nod wildly. His fingers find your clit to make you get even closer to your release, hand muffling your screams, he scoffs. “Cum with me, yeah? Cum with me and let me fill you up, Princess.”
“If I get pregnant,” you whisper as he wears his cape. “Please take me away.” The anxiety is visible on your face.
He kneels down next to your bed to face you, his skin is glowing under the moonlight with a sheer layer of sweat. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he says, then takes your face into his hands. Hak has the most beautiful eyes, and they look even prettier when they are on you. His lips find yours, smooth and loving. Not rough like he was minutes ago.
“I’ll never leave you.”
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@st-arlert this is for you pretty <3
© 2021 sunshinedragonofthewest. All rights reserved. Do not modify, copy, repost my work.
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luminnara · 3 years
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It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 7 18+ NSFW
18+ ONLY PLEASE
Warnings: nsfw, sexy sex, abo, knotting
Part 6 | part 7 | part 8
Tags:  @kyrah-williams williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar r @sukeraa @momc95 @book-lover-2006
Bucky was still reeling from finally getting to hear her name. While the omega explored his apartment, he sank down onto his couch, his head buzzing with thoughts of her and him and his past life with HYDRA and how her name felt so, incredibly, impossibly right.
Amoretta.
It didn’t sound familiar to him, and he was pretty certain that he had never known it before. That made him feel a little bit better about everything, a little less guilty for almost completely forgetting about his omega. He hated how much less he remembered about her than she remembered about him, even if it wasn’t his fault that HYDRA scrambled his brain up so much all the time. No matter how many times he told himself that it was okay, that he was already doing his best, he couldn’t help but feel like he was a bad alpha.
But when she looked up at him with that smile and those eyes, so trusting and happy and comfortable...well, a lot of those negative thoughts flew out the window again.
“So you live here? Like, for real? Like, all the time?” She asked as she inspected his tv.
“Sure do.” He chuckled, sitting on the couch to watch her. “Whaddya think?”
She spun around in a little circle, taking it all. “It’s...perfect.”
Bucky smiled. “I’ll have to find some more blankets for you.”
Amoretta paused, looking at him curiously. “For what? I don’t think I could ever be cold with you around. You’re like a furnace.”
“Well...so you can...you know.” He was feeling stupid again. She wasn’t even thinking of nesting with him around, was she?
“So I can what?” She seemed puzzled.
“You know...make a nest…” he mumbled. “Isn’t that what omegas are s’posed to do? I’ve heard Bruce makes them…”
Realization dawned on her and her jaw dropped a little. “Oh. I haven’t gotten to nest in...um...ever?” She laughed. “HYDRA never let me.”
“...oh.” Bucky cleared his throat.
“But now that I’m thinking about it, that might be nice.” She glanced around the room, already looking for a good spot. “Maybe there? Ooh, no, I don’t want it out in the open, do I? Or maybe I do…”
“Hey, FRIDAY?” Bucky asked.
“Yes, Seargent Barnes?” The robot replied, her voice sounding from somewhere in the ceiling.
Amoretta jumped. “Can she see us right now?”
“I monitor everything in this tower,” Friday said. “Tony has designed me to run all necessary systems.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell someone we need more bedding. Blankets. Lots of ‘em.”
“I will let Miss Potts know right away, Seargent.”
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” He said, kicking his shoes off to rest his heels on the coffee table.
“Of course, Seargent Barnes.”
“So...you’re a Seargent?” Amoretta asked, making her way over to sit on the arm of the couch.
He stretched his arms back behind his head. “Seargent James Buchanan Barnes. World War II. I was with the 107th.”
“Is that how you know Steve?”
He smiled, his head. “Nah. We were always friends. Grew up in Brooklyn together.”
She sat up a little straighter. “Brooklyn?”
“Born ‘n raised, doll.”
“I wanna go!” She bounced down onto the cushion next to him, both hands pressing into his thigh as she suddenly leaned up towards his face. “Please?”
“Uh, sure.” He was a bit taken aback by her sudden movement, but he wasn’t complaining about how close she was now. “Mind tellin’ me why, though?”
“You mentioned it once.” She rubbed her nose against his neck, sighing happily as she scent of cloves filled her senses.
“...I did?”
“Mhm.” Amoretta snuggled up against his side, fitting next to him perfectly. “I don’t remember everything from back then, but I remember that.”
“What’d I say?” He brought on of his arms down to drape around her shoulders, hugging her closer.
“I think I asked you what kind of life we’d have outside of HYDRA.” She rested her cheek on his chest. “You told me we’d live in Brooklyn, in our own house. And…” she trailed off, blushing slightly.
“And what?” He asked, curious.
“You said we’d have lots of pups.” She chewed her lip, looking away from him in embarrassment. “It was probably just your rut talking, though, you know...i-if you don’t want that now, it makes sense. I mean, you’ve got this whole life now, and…”
She trailed off as she noticed that his chest was rumbling with a loud purr. When she finally brought her eyes back up to his face, she saw that he was watching her, features relaxed into a soft, thoughtful expression.
“Do...you want pups?” She asked, heart leaping hopefully.
“Always used to want a whole little family.” He pulled her up to straddle his lap. “Didn’t think I’d get the chance to, but now…hey, I never sired any for HYDRA, right?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “That’d be a fuckin’ nightmare.”
“They made sure my heat suppressants kept me infertile.” Amoretta said. “They didn’t have a program for breeding super soldiers ready yet.”
“Good.” He growled. “No pups of mine are ever gonna grow up in a place like that.”
She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. “You really want them now?”
“Course.” He pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face against her scent gland. “Maybe not, like, now, now, but…with you? I do.”
Amoretta’s eyes widened, a happy little keen leaving her throat. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that…”
Bucky tugged her back so he could face her. “I’m gonna court you properly. Do it right.”
“But you don’t need to—“
“I don’t care.” He interrupted. “I’m an old fashioned guy. I’m gonna court you.”
She grinned, a hand trailing down the side of his neck. “How old fashioned, exactly?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Too old fashioned to have a little fun?” Her hand slipped down to press against his chest.
His purr turned into a growl, his hands moving to hold her hips. “Doll, all you gotta do is ask…”
Amoretta brought her lips to his ear. “Will you fuck me, Bucky Barnes?”
It only took a moment before his lips were on hers. He was gentle, but he was hungry, devouring her in a kiss that left her breathless and would have made her knees weak had she been standing. With his hands slowly sliding down to her ass, Bucky was perfectly content to take his time; he wanted to feel her, inch by inch, until he had memorized every curve and dip of her body.
Her skin was so soft beneath his callouses. He nudged her sweater up a bit, his hands slipping underneath it to grab at her tits. She couldn’t help but let out a whine against his lips when he brushed a thumb over her nipple, her nails digging into his shoulders as she held him.
When he broke away from the kiss, he gave her lower lip a sharp bite. “Bed. Now.”
Amoretta practically launched herself towards his bedroom, scrambling onto the bed without a second thought. Bucky followed at a much slower pace, enjoying the view as she shed her clothing.
“Hey, maybe I wanted to do that,” he teased, crawling over her. His lips found her neck, his fangs scraping her skin.
“I-I wanted to make it easier for you,” she gasped, back arching as he gave her scent gland a gentle bite.
“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart.” His voice was husky and low, his breath hot against her throat. “I wanna enjoy every second…”
She sighed as he nipped and licked at her, her hands slipping under his shirt. Her fingers ran across his abs, feeling the way they flexed beneath her touch as he ground his hips into hers.
“You’re overdressed,” She said, tugging at his hem. “Let me see you.”
Bucky broke away from her neck and grabbed his shirt, shucking it off and tossing it behind him. “Better?”
“Much,” She hummed, taking in the sight of his naked torso.
“Good.” He took hold of her hips, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he made his way down to her pussy. “God, you smell fucking amazing…”
Amoretta trilled happily. “So do y—oh my god…”
His tongue was already lapping at her. She couldn’t remember anyone ever eating her out before, but Bucky seemed determined to make up for lost time. He acted like he was starving, sucking and nipping at her clit while he sank a finger inside of her.
Her hips bucked against him, his vibranium hand holding her down while his human hand played with her. She was already soaked, slick running down her thighs, and her scent was driving him wild.
“Fuck, I want you…” he growled, adding a second finger. “So wet, so willing…and you smell so delicious….” He inhaled slow and deep, savoring it. “I think I’ve missed this…”
“D-do you actually remember all the t-times you rutted with me?” Her voice hitched with little gasps as he stroked her inner walls.
“Yes and no.” He admitted, leaning his cheek on her thigh and looking up at her. “But I know this scent…”
“What scent—ah!” She bit her lip as he crooked his fingers a few times, warmth mounting in her belly. “K-keep going, I’m—FUCK!”
She shuddered as an orgasm rolled through her, electricity tingling in her limbs.
“The scent of my omega, all drippin’ wet, just for me.” He pulled his fingers away, licking them clean. “I wanna fuck you, doll…”
“Please,” she whimpered, scooting back up toward the pillows as Bucky stood.
Amoretta’s eyes were glued to his hands as they unbuckled his belt, his movements quick and determined. He was tired of waiting around. He wanted her now.
As he shoved his pants down off of his hips, she bit her lip again, rubbing her thighs together. She could remember how good he felt inside her, and as she thought about the way he always used to snap his hips into hers, she felt another trail of slick running down her legs.
At the sight of his cock, she was practically a waterfall.
Before he could get back to her, Amoretta was flipping over onto her hands and knees, presenting herself for him with her ass up in the air. She peeked back over her shoulder at him, watching as froze and then stiffened, a low, impossibly loud growl rumbling in his chest.
“Good girl,” he praised her, his cock already rock hard as he crawled across the bed towards her.
Amoretta gave a little wiggle, trying to convince him to hurry up. When his hands grabbed her hips and jerked her back against him, she squealed in surprise, the sound melting into a moan as he rubbed his cock against her.
“Please,” she whined. “Please, please just fuck me, Alpha, I need it…”
“How bad?” He leaned over her, nipping at her shoulder.
“S-so bad, please, just—“
She interrupted herself with another moan, her hands clutching at the sheets as Bucky finally gave her what she was craving so badly.
He pressed himself into her slowly at first, waiting to feel some resistance. She was so soft and warm that he almost came then and there, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he forced his hips to still. Fuck, how could someone feel so good? Her pussy felt perfect around him, gently squeezing his cock as he pulled back out and then thrusted back in, already balls deep inside her. He could tell why he had liked her so much during his ruts, but he had no idea how he could have managed to fuck her for more than thirty seconds during one.
When he started moving again, Amoretta turned into putty. She was absolutely melting, angling her hips so that he could sink in deeper and deeper, slick running down her thighs.
“You like my cock, baby?” He asked, voice muffled by her neck as he dragged his lips over her skin. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, and he didn’t care if that meant both of them being a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He just wanted her.
“Y-yes, Alpha,” she gasped, slowly sliding down until her chest was squished against the bed. He felt even better than she remembered, his cock rubbing against every single perfect spot inside of her. He was stretching her out comfortably, her slick providing more than enough lube to ensure that his size could never hurt her.
Fuck, he was perfect. He was made for her. They were made for each other.
Bucky was pressed against her back, shielding her with his entire body. He didn’t want anyone else to see his omega. The sight of her there, beneath him, taking his cock so well was for him and him alone, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.
“Want me to fill you up?” He asked, licking her scent gland.
“Y-yes please,” she moaned, leaning her head back for him.
“Want me to breed you, over ‘n over, ‘til you’re full of pups?” He bit at her jaw.
“Yes!” She cried, whines and trills all flooding from her throat in a symphony of needy sounds.
“Say my name,” he panted, his knot already beginning to swell.
“B-Bucky,” she moaned as she felt it catch on her. Fuck, she had forgotten how good it felt to be stretched and feel it filling her.
He let go of her hips, his hand finding hers. “No, my real name…”
“J-James,” she gasped, intertwining their fingers together. “James…please knot me...”
That was it.
Hearing her gasping and moaning his name sent him over the edge, and before he could stop himself, he was exploding inside of her. He snarled, biting her shoulder again as he held her down, his knot locking him in place as he pressed his hips forward.
Amoretta sighed happily at the feeling, relaxing as Bucky’s weight fell onto her. He was panting hard, trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he sighed, kissing the already-healing bite marks on her shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout the bites.”
Amoretta grinned at him as he helped her turn onto her side. “I like your bites.”
“Oh yeah?” He pulled her up against his chest, settling in to wait for his knot to go down once more. “I’ll remember that.”
“Super soldier, remember? Built to withstand you at your roughest.” She snuggled back.
“Guess I’ve got something to thank HYDRA for, after all.” He chuckled, drawing lazy circles on her hip. “You didn’t cum when I was inside you, did you?”
“No, but that’s fine.” She shrugged. “I did before.”
“That’s not enough,” he growled. “If my knot wasn’t so swollen right now, I’d be fucking you until your legs shake.”
“Is that a promise, Sergeant?” She asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“It is.”
“Well, then…” she held his jaw in her hand, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait for your knot to go down.”
679 notes · View notes
wifeboys · 3 years
Text
Third Time’s the Charm // Wilmon
Summary: Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.
Word Count: ~2600
A/N: A little in-universe fic to tie us over. Based on prompts from this prompt list *shamelessly plugs my prompts blog @deity-prompts *. Also I haven’t written fanfiction is a while so I’m a little rusty.
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gif credits: @princewilhelm
Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.
The first time is at Rosh's soccer final. The pair (and Ayub) had gone to every single game of the season, rain, or shine. They stood at the side lines. The night air gripped them through their puffy coats. Flood lights illuminate their breaths. Wilhelm and Simon pressed shoulders to 'help keep them warm'.
The game is intense. The ball is sent over and back again and again. Fouls are left and right. Fights even break out. The crowd hold their breath, each moment electric. Simon is so focused on the game that he forgets where he is. He forgets who he's with and who he is. All he can concentrate on is Rosh.
The whistle blows, once, twice, three times. Rosh punches the air with a victorious scream. The crowd erupts. Everyone rushes onto the pitch. They clutch each other into hugs, exchanging "congratulations!" and kisses on the cheek. Simon sprints to Rosh, grabbing her tightly. She slaps his back and yells something he can't hear. Ayub pushes him out of the way and hugs Rosh. Simon staggers back with a laugh. Wilhelm is in front of him. His eyes sparkle with happiness and Simon can't help but smile. Before he can hug him, Wilhelm places his hands on Simons cheeks and quickly kisses him. The kiss barely lasts two seconds, but time seems to freeze. Simon short-circuits.
Before he can process or kiss him back, Wilhelm is already hugging someone else and Ayub is grabbing Simon. "SHE DID IT! FUCKING YEAH!" The night moves on. Everyone goes out to celebrate, still full of energy until they part in the early hours. As Simon celebrates, he can't help but think about Wilhelm kissing him. Did he kiss him or did he imagine it? No, it definitely happened. He can't imagine the electricity pulsing through him. He can't imagine the rush and heat he felt.
But that doesn't mean Wilhelm wanted to kiss him. It was an intense game. Everyone was celebrating. It was probably just a "hey bro, we did it! let's celebrate!" kiss. Wilhelm would've kissed anyone, Simon just happened to be there.
That's what Wilhelm is acting like. He's hugging everyone he comes across. Simons not sure if that's because Wilhelm is a hugger or because he's buzzed on celebratory drinks. Either way, he's not treating Simon any different. He's still talking to him like they're regular bros who like regular sports and other regular things.
It was nothing, Simon decides.
• ❤︎ •
The second time is at Felice's birthday party. She spares no expense. The common room is decked with streamers, balloons, and stocked with alcohol. Everyone is wearing the most extravagant outfits they have. The birthday girl has braided her hair short as a boys, and wears a purple robe that reaches her heels. Simon wears a black, glittery blazer over his bare chest with waist high black trousers. The lack of shirt was probably a good idea, considering people keep bumping into him and spilling their drinks.
The music is practically deafening. You can't walk two steps without knocking shoulders with someone. Simon keeps to the back of the room, fiddling with the hem of his blazar as the party unfolds in front of him. Sara keeps him company, chatting his ear off about something he can't hear. The only thing he can focus on is a certain prince across the room.
Simon barely notices when Sara tugs at his sleeve. "Si! I'm going to find Felice. Don't just stand here for the whole night. Go talk to someone"
She disappears into the sea of drunk teenagers. There's no way Sara was telling him to go talk to Wilhelm specifically, but that's all Simon wants to do. Actually, he wants to skip the talking and pin Wilhelm against the wall.
But Simon can't do it. He's glued with his back against a wall as people make out around him. He can't mess things up with Wilhelm. He can't scare him off. He can't lose a great friend on the tiny chance he might get a boyfriend. Simon repeats this like a mantra to the beat of the music.
None of this stops him checking out Wilhelm, the crowd acting as a safety buffer. His simple yellow shirt is plain considering the occasion. He made up for it by covering his hair with glitter that has fallen onto his face and shoulders.
He watches as an already tipsy Wilhelm finishes his drink. He's surrounded by people (probably his friends). He suddenly cracks up at some joke they say. Glitter explodes into the air with the quick movement of his head. A shiny halo illuminates his face. God, he's beautiful when he laughs.
"Simon! Simon Simon Simon" Felice nearly falls on top of him. "I'm so glad you're here- and you look amazing"
"Thanks, so do you- and happy birthday" Simon has never been good at taking compliments.
"You're too kind. I'll admit, I can't get enough of my cape. Hey, you should try it on! Purple is definitely your colour"
"Oh no I couldn't-"
"Oh yes you could. Let's swap jackets. I promise I'll give it back"
Next thing Simon knows, Felice is slipping off her cloak-y thing to reveal a white blouse and black skirt. She takes Simon's jacket, even giving him a spin. "We look stunning" she says as Simon wraps her robe around him. It looks a bit weird on him, but it's soft and smells nice. Felice sips her drink, and frowns. "My cup is empty. Can I get you a drink?"
"Uh- sure"
Felice disappears into the crowd. Simon goes back to looking for Wilhelm, but he's nowhere to be seen. He scans the crowd carefully. Wow, there's a lot of people here. A lot of bodies. The air is thick. The music is too loud. The room is too small. Simon needs to get out.
He excuses his way towards the door, not stopping until he's breathing in the night air. He leans next to the door, careful to keep Felice's robe clean. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Simon can only handle parties for a short while before he needs a break.
He stares up at the sky. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The stars are like glitter. The moon shines brightly at him. Deep breath in. He can't find Wilhelm, but at least he can spot the Man In The Moon. Deep breath out.
He's grounded again. He knows he should go home soon, but he figures a bit longer inside wont hurt. He gets up to go inside and find Felice when the door swings open. A yellow shirt stumbles into the night, glitter sparkling in the moonlight.
Simon finally found Wilhelm- or, rather, Wilhelm found him.
Wilhelm finds his footing, looking around. He finally spots Simon by the door.
"There you are!" He exclaims. There I am?
If Simon moves fast enough, he can slip back inside before Wilhelm even notices him. He can grab Sara and pretend he never came to the party. Before he can put his plan into effect, Wilhelm is cupping his face again.
Wilhelm kisses him. Simon is quicker to react this time. He kisses back, his plan to escape already forgotten. Wilhelm pulls back for a moment to tilt his head to the side. Simon holds the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair. Glitter falls around them.
Wilhelm's hands slip behind Simon's robe, pulling him closer. Simon shivers as his hands run up and down his back. He drowns in bliss, finally getting to kiss Wilhelm the way he always wanted to.
When Wilhelm finally pulls back, his eyes stay closed. "Oh" he sighs softly. "Oh . . . I'm about to throw up. Excuse me"
Without even looking at Simon, Wilhelm turns and staggers around the corner. Simon hears retching. His escape plan kicks in. He practically runs back into the party, nearly knocking people over as he finds Felice.
He finds her giggling with Sara, who's cheeks are blushes deep red. They swap their clothes back, re-completing Felice's outfit. She truly looks stunning, tonight more than ever. Up close, her hair is woven more intricately than he realised. It's as short as his but looks ten times better.
Oh God- with the short hair and purple cloak, he probably looks just like Felice. Especially to someone who's drunk. Wilhelm didn't mean to kiss him. He meant to kiss Felice. Now Simon feels like he's going to throw up.
• ❤︎ •
The third time is after Parents Day. Simon spent the days leading up to it avoiding Wilhelm. He probably doesn't remember the kiss at all but Simon wont chance it. He won't give Wilhelm the opportunity to reject him. This doesn’t stop him from looking at him for a little too long from across the room. This doesn’t stop Wilhelm looking back.
His ingenious “if I ignore him he can’t reject me” plan fails, however, when Wilhelm sits with his family as they eat. Simon can't take his eyes off him as he chats with Simon and Felice's family. Wilhelm combs his fingers through his hair, licks his lips, laughs along to jokes. Simon soaks up every minute of it.
Dinner plates empty. Belts are loosened. Waiters come around to collect dishes and Simon starts to panic. Wilhelm has been glancing at him again and again throughout the dinner. He's definitely going to corner Simon and let him down. Tell him to forget all about the kiss (if he even remembers it). Simon pulls out his phone.
Simon I need you to pick me up
Ayub Thought you were at the parents dinner Cant ur mom take u home?
Simon I'll explain later If you pick me up right now I'll be forever grateful
Ayub I'll be outside in ten You owe me one
Simon I love you more than life itself
Simon rests his phone on the table, slightly less panicked. As soon as people start getting to their feet, he bolts. Out the door. Our of the school. He only slows when his feet crunches on the front road's gravel.
Ayub arrives right on time. Simon jumps on his bike before he can ask what's going on. It isn't until the next day that Simon comes to a shocking realisation: he left his phone at Hillerska.
• ❤︎ •
"Didn't think I'd be back here so soon" Ayub says as he drops Simon off.
"I'll be in and out, I promise. Everyone's gone home so I'll be able to find it and grab it"
"Here, call yourself on my phone. You can follow the ringing"
"Where would I be without you"
Ayub tosses his phone and gestures for Simon to go. He pushes open the doors. Hillerska feels haunted without students bustling through the halls. It's like a museum. Simon opens Ayub's phone and calls himself.
It's probably in the dining room where they ate. He walks towards it, listening intently for his ringtone. What he doesn't expect is for someone to pick up.
“Hello?”
Simon stares at the phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. ". . . Hello?"
“Simon? That you?”
“Wille!" Perfect. The one person he was trying to not talk to. "Sorry, I didn’t recognise your voice”
"Don't worry about it, I don't think you were expecting me to answer"
"Yeah, uh, you have my phone. That's why I was calling it. I must've left it here yesterday"
"Where are you? I can drop it off"
"I'm already at Hillerska so I can just grab it. Want me to come to you?"
"Just start walking, we'll find each other"
Simon decides to go in the general direction of Wilhelm's dorms. It really does feel like a museum. Each alcove is like a display he can't touch. His footsteps echo.
“So . . . what’re you doing with my phone?” Simon asks.
“I actually didn’t know it was yours. It was left on one of the tables, so I took it in case the owner came looking for it”
“And here I am”
“And here you are”
Simon can't help but smile. He's sure he can hear Wilhelm smiling too.
Wilhelm takes a deep breath. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you”
“Talk to me?”
“Yeah. Um . . . it's about Felice's party"
Simon stops. Here it is. Everything has backfired and now the one thing he didn't want to talk about has come up.
"Simon? You there?"
"Yes! Uh yes I am." He rubs a hand across his face. Play it cool. "What about her party?"
"I'm sorry that I was so drunk that night. I figured I'd need some . . . liquid courage but I guess I had too much"
"Yeah. It was a uh, a wild night" Simon feels like he's choking on his own heart. He distracts himself by looking around at the hallway. He's not even sure where in the school he is. He's more focused on not throwing up.
"Do you remember that night?"
Play it cool. "Anything specific you want me to remember?"
There's a moment of silence. Simon can hear Wilhelm's footsteps through the phone. "If you want to forget that night and move on like nothing happened, we can definitely can"
Simon doesn't want to forget. It's all he can think about.
"Do you want to forget about it?" Simon asks, swallowing.
Wilhelm's walking slows as he thinks. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable"
"I don't . . . I wasn't uncomfortable"
There's a beat. "I'm glad. That-that you weren't uncomfortable"
"I'm a little uncomfortable now" Simon laughs awkwardly. His tension eases a little when Wilhelm laughs too.
"I'm sorry. I just don't know how to talk about this" Simon kicks his feet against the floor.
"I have to say, I didn't think I'd be talking to you about this over the phone"
"I didn't think you'd want to talk about this at all. I thought you were going to avoid me forever"
"Hey, you're the one who was avoiding me"
"Yeah yeah I know" Simon smiles.
Wilhelm takes a deep breath and exhales. "I really wanted to kiss you that night. That's why I got so drunk I needed a confidence boost. It uh, it didn't help that you ignored the kiss at Rosh's game"
Simon's jaw drops in a smile. "I didn't ignore it! I just panicked. I figured it was a spur of the moment celebration"
"None of it was spur of the moment. I've wanted to kiss you for a while"
"You have?"
"You didn't notice?"
"Not at all. If I did, I probably would've kissed you"
Simon hears him stop and smile. “Simon, you are the smartest idiot I ever met”
He hangs up. He hangs up? Simon looks at the phone as if it holds the answer. His brow furrow as a hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He turns, that there he is.
"Hi" they say in unison.
Wilhelm's hands are on Simon's shoulders. He holds his gaze with a smile. Simon completely forgets how to breathe. All he can think about his Wilhelm being so close to him and his lips being right there because really they're right there-
"Can I kiss you again?" Wilhelm asks. Simon nods.
Wilhelm kisses him for the third time. It's hesitant- like he's testing the waters to see if Simon is willing to swim. Before he can pull away, Simon yanks him back in. His hands thread through Wilhelm's hair as Wilhelm wraps his arms around his waist. They pull each other impossibly close. It's their third-first-kiss and it is perfect.
140 notes · View notes
melwilson · 3 years
Text
 from the sky | t.o.
pairing: thor odinson x reader
rating: fluff, angst kinda but only if you squint
warnings: a slight mention of anxiety. thor and reader being cute and domestic. i edited this at midnight so...i mean take it or leave it
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“Zeus! Time to eat, buddy!” Your voice rang loud as you stepped out the door of your home. You whistled, eyes looking for the three year old German shepherd. “Zeus!” You raised your hand above your face as you stepped out from under the awning. The sun was just beginning to set, replacing the painted blue sky with beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow. Sunsets like these weren’t uncommon in the Arizona desert and normally, Zeus would be back in the house before the sun would make its descent. You called for him one more time, but then you caught sight of his fluffy tail a little more than half a mile out. You quirked an eyebrow as you started towards him. As if he could feel your presence, the dog ran over to you nudging your knee before returning back over to where he was before.
“Oh my gosh,” you muttered to yourself. Zeus looked up at you and then back to the large man who laid face up on the ground. He was covered in dirt, grime, and blood. You dropped down to your knees hands hovering over his body. His chest rose and fell slowly as you racked your brain for something do.
You can’t just leave him here.
Like hell I can’t. This man looks like he just went to hell and back.
“God help me. Screw it.” You stood up taking the mans limp arms and attempted to tug him off the ground. He was hot. Too hot. And you started to wonder how long he had been unconscious in the Arizona heat. You wondered how he was still alive. The Arizona desert wasn’t kind to anyone. You had been living here for almost five years and there were days when the heat forced you to stay inside all day.
Letting out a grunt, you began to drag the man back to your house. Zeus ran ahead of you not even bothering to try and help you. By the time you had reached the house, you were a hot, panting mess of sweat and dirt. As carefully as you could, you dropped the man onto your couch, his hand knocking over the lamp that sat on the end table. You jumped at the sound, cringing at the broken glass you would have to clean up. Right now, the bruised man in front of you had your attention. Had he not looked like he had fought a war by himself, you would have definitely admired how attractive the blonde really was. But now was not the time. You grabbed your first aid kit from the kitchen before returning to the living room.
“What in the world is this man wearing?” You said to yourself. It wasn’t until now that you noticed the black and silver armor that covered the blonde’s broad torso and shoulders. Remnants of a red cape were attached to the back. You weren’t sure how long it took you to the get the armor off, but when you did you were sweating again. There was a large gash that ran the length of his torso. He was no longer bleeding, but the skin around it was red, puffy, and bruised dark shades of purple. In fact, multiple bruises littered a deep contrast against his tan skin. Your fingers grazed the area around the tattered skin gently before grabbing the alcohol. You cleansed the skin thoroughly before grabbing the tweezers and pulling out a few small rocks that were lodged in the torn skin. You cleansed the wound again before picking up the arnica. It’s a homeopathic herb that helps with pain and bruising. You took the gel and rubbed it on the discolored skin on his chest and around the wound. God, he was toned. Actually he was more than tone. His body looked like it had been carved from the gods themselves.
“Get it together, Y/n. There’s a random man in your living room.” After wiping the dirt from his face, you wiped the dust from your hands and grabbed a blanket to cover him with. Zeus nudged your knee, his brown eyes looking between you and the unknown human on your couch. You scratched behind his ear, tugging lightly on his collar. “Let’s go, boy.”
The next morning, you were stirred awake by the sunlight pouring in through your windows. The moment of peace didn’t last long before Zeus’s barking filled the small home. You jumped out of bed and ran to the living room being met with a very defensive Zeus and an equally as defensive blonde. He was sitting up straight, one arm around his waist. Once he saw you, he stood up swiftly, stumbling slightly and wincing as he ran clumsily into the wall. His eyes raked over your frame bouncing between you and the dog that had moved next to your feet.
“Who the hell are you?” His voice was a deep rumble that sent a wave of heat through your body. His stare was harsh as he awaited your answer.
“The woman who found in the middle of the desert,” you shot back. The blonde watched as you crossed your arms over your chest jutting out your hip. “Who the hell are you?” You struggled to hold his stare, his broad chest heaving as he caught his breath.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered. He tore through the bandages that had taken nearly thirty minutes to wrap. “Where’s my armor?” His question came out more as a command as he took a step toward you.
You stuck out a hand, coming in contact with his chest. “Slow down, big guy. You’re not going anywhere. That giant gash is gonna get infected the moment you step outside. Take a seat.” You nodded to the couch holding his blue eyes.
He took a step back eyes glancing down on the large cut that ran the length of his stomach. Deciding that you were probably right, he sat down on the brown leather watching as you took out the white bandage from the medkit. He watched intently as you began to re-wrap his torso visibly shivering from the graze of your finger tips. “Thank you.” His voice was as soft as his eyes. You could tell he was genuine as you gently placed two pats to his side signaling you were done.
“You’re welcome.” You stood up placing the medkit back in the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re not dead on my couch.”
The no-named blonde raised an eyebrow. “You expected me to be dead?”
You scoffed. “I thought you were dead when Zeus found you. You’d been laying in this heat for only God knows how long and had a wound that large. You shouldn’t be alive.” You paused. “How’d you end up in Arizona anyway and why were you dressed the way that you were? Comic-Con is usually in Cali.”
He tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. “Comic Con? I do not know of such thing. And I do not know how I ended up back on Earth.”
“What do you mean, ‘back on Earth?’ Y-you’re from outer space?”
A small smile tugged at the mans lips at your confused state. “I’m from Asgard of the nine realms.” Realization and shock covered your face. No wonder he was so...perfect. You suddenly became aware of the over-sized tee shirt and shorts you were wearing and the fact that you probably looked rough.
You swallowed. “Oh. I’m from America of the Earth.”
The blonde laughed. The sound booming and loud. “It’s a pleasure to meet you...”
“Y/n,” you finished quickly. “And lemme guess. You’re the god of thunder?”
“Thor,” he confirmed, “You know who I am?”
You rolled your eyes. “The whole world knows who you are, god of thunder.” You dropped his gaze, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I’m going to get dressed. I can find some new clothes and you can use the shower and clean up if you want.” 
The giant man stood up following you to your room. You suddenly became all too aware of his presence in your room. In your space. You hadn’t been this close to a man in years. Entering your closet, you spotted some of your dad’s old tee shirts that you had “borrowed” when you moved. There was also a pair of joggers that would have to work until you went and got him more clothes. 
“Here,” you said softly. “These will have to do for now. The other shower is in the guest bedroom. Down the hall on your left.” 
He sent you a small smile, his frame towering over you. “Thank you, Y/n. Your kindness has not gone unnoticed. I am in your debt.” 
You shook your head pushing him out of your room. “You don’t owe me anything, god of thunder. Just go shower.”
Thor was never unaware of his surroundings and never taken by surprise. But he was, however, confused on how he woke up in a mortal’s home in the middle of nowhere. He was taken aback by your kindness and willingness to let a stranger stay in your home. The moment he laid on eyes on you, he was captured by your beauty and the strength in your eyes.
He let his guard down.
You made him comfortable and he had only known you for all of twenty minutes.
He exited the bathroom, the smell of what he knew as bacon and eggs giving him a sense of home. He had missed Midgard. His plans to return  were delayed by an unexpected rift between the nine realms. He didn’t remember anything or anyone who would have had the power to send him back, but he’s glad that they did. Because now he stands at the entrance to your kitchen, watching as you hum softly to a song he knew as Bennie and The Jets. Stark’s doing, of course. 
“You just gonna stand there?” You turned around quickly, a smirk playing on your lips. 
“I didn’t know that you were aware of my presence?” 
You opened the door to the refrigerator to grab the orange juice. “You aren’t exactly quiet, god of thunder. You should eat while the food is hot. After you’re done we can go get you some clothes that fit.” 
“There will be no need for the purchasing of more clothes. I will be returning promptly to Asgard.” 
You placed a hand on your hip. “You need to heal fully before you leave to do whatever fighting you so promptly have to finish. I’m guessing it won’t be too long. You can stay here until you are well enough to fight again.” 
“I no longer want to cause you any more trouble or risk your safety.” 
“Thor.” You caught his attention at the mention of his name. “I don’t think my safety is at risk here. And you’re not causing me any trouble. In fact, this is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me all year. So just...stay.” 
Over the next few days, you grew quite fond of the god of thunder. He slept on the couch, even though you said multiple times he could make himself comfortable in the guest bedroom. He helped around the house- cleaning up his own messes, taking Zeus out, he even offered to cook breakfast and dinner. You took him to the nearest clothing store, bought him a few plain colored tees and sweat shorts to keep him cool in the heat. You continued to change his bandages everyday though he insisted he could do it himself. Neither of you really wanted to take up on his offer. He enjoyed the feeling of your fingers grazing against his skin. However, the gash was healing faster than anticipated. The day before, you watched in awe as he summoned Mjolnir from wherever it had landed in the desert. You both knew it wouldn’t be long before he was back off to Asgard. That’s why you were soaking up all the time you had with the unexpected visitor. Thor brought an atmosphere of warmth and domesticity to your home that you’d never felt before. You enjoyed having the company of another person in your usually dull home. 
Tonight, the two of you enjoyed Chinese takeout on the back porch. A couple of beers sat on next to you as you sat in silence. 
“Lemme braid your hair.” 
Thor glanced over at you. “What?” 
“I would like to braid your hair,” you said again. “Please. It’ll look good, I promise.” 
Thor’s blue eyes narrowed at you. “I’ve let no mortal touch my hair.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest holding his stare. “Well, I am not any mortal. I happen to be the mortal who saved your life.” 
“I would have survived regardless,” Thor shrugged, “but I understand your point.” He stood from his seat and settled himself on the ground between your legs, Zeus settling down next to him. “Be gentle.” 
You chuckled taking his hair out his usual hair tie. You raked your hands gently through his hair before separating the hair into two sections. He hummed softly as you began to start a french braid. As you tied off the first side with a rubber band he spoke. 
“How come you live out here alone?” 
You sighed dropping your hands and Thor grunted in protest. “I don’t know. I’ve always been kinda on my own. After high school I decided that there was nothing left for me in my small hometown. I got a job offer here and went for it.”
“There’s never been anyone?”
You laughed softly. “No. Just me and Zeus until you stumbled along. My parents visit every now and then, but other than that I’m on own. S’not so bad. Arizona is beautiful. Good people, beautiful sunsets, and it’s warm year around. Perfect for me someone like me.”
“Like you?”
“You ask a lot of questions, god of thunder.” You finished the last braid tying it off securely. You placed both hands on Thor’s shoulders squeezing lightly. “All done.” He didn’t move. He stayed put between your legs squeezing your calves. “What’s wrong?”
Thor sucked in sharp breath. “I have to leave soon. Asgard, they need me.” He turned around placing his hands on your thighs. “Thank you for everything, Y/n. I’m still in your debt.”
It was a faint rustling in the living room that woke you up. Your eyes narrowed at the clock next to your bed. 5:37 a.m.
“You’re leaving? Without saying goodbye?” Your bottom lip was tugged between your teeth as you leaned against the living room wall. Thor had wanted to slip out quickly and quietly, but of course, you were a light sleeper. Even from across the room, he could see the tears threatening to fall.
“Don’t cry, dove.” His armor, washed and mended, thanks to you, engulfed his torso. His hands rested gently against your neck, thumbs rubbing tenderly at the smooth skin of your jaw.
“I don’t want you to go.” Your voice was shaky as you met Thor’s eyes. Your words didn’t do justice the way your heart was beginning to break and the anxiety that bubbling up inside of you. You did not want to be alone again. Not after knowing what it was like to be with someone who appreciated you. Someone who showed you that having the right person around wasn’t so bad.
The blonde placed the sweetest, most gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture only made your tears fall faster. “I’ll be home soon, love.” Home. Home with you. The woman he had unknowingly fallen in love within the two weeks he had known you. “I promise.”
As far as promises go, you weren’t sure if Thor’s would ever be fulfilled. It had been nearly a month since he left you standing on your back porch in the middle of the night. You cried most of the night, Zeus cuddled into your side. Never once did you think you would be this distraught over a man. He was on your mind every second of every damn day and you hated it. You hated how you could hear his booming laugh and could see that infectious smile was plastered in the back of your mind. You missed the late night talks you would entertain almost every night, only the stars around you. He was easy to talk to. He would listen, never pushed you to share anything, and then he would share about his adventures across the galaxy- fighting space monsters, waging wars, getting stabbed by a snake that was actually his brother.
Even Zeus was starting to miss the presence of the Asgardian. He would sit outside, eyes towards the sky, much like tonight. It was late. You should have been in bed, but you hadn’t been getting much sleep these days. The German shepherd sat your feet, the fire a few feet away casting shadows that danced across your face. You sighed taking a sip of the beer in your hand. The sky had never been this clear before and you had never felt so lonely. The stars lit up the sky in a beautiful array of constellations and formations bringing the remnants of a child-like wonder- a longing to understand what was beyond that dark abyss. And beyond that dark abyss was the home of a man you saw a future with. A man who changed your perspective on being alone. A man who had yet to return.
With a sad quirk of your lips, you stood up, eyes roaming the expanse above you once again and you said, “Come back to me, god of thunder.”
You tossed and turned for hours. At first you were too hot, then you realized you really needed a new mattress, then you realized it was no use in just laying there. But before you could swing your legs over the side of the bed, you were blinded by the brightest light. Rays of pink, blue, gold, orange, green, and purple shone magnificently through your bedroom window. You were out of the bed in an instant, feet carrying you to the back door before you could make any rational decisions. Zeus was outside in an instant, running wildly toward the shadow of a man. You, however, were rooted in place eyes narrowed as a sense of familiarity overcame you. The blonde stopped a few feet away from you, eyes locked with yours.
“I know that it’s been longer than expe-“
“I don’t care,” you said softly. You weren’t sure when the space between the two of you disappeared, but Thor’s hands tightly gripped your waist pulling you impossibly close. “You kept your promise.”
“Can I kiss you?”
The question caught you off guard, your eyes widening. “I- is that like an Asgardian thing you guys do or-“ Before you could finish your sentence, Thor’s lips were pressed to yours, quickly and effectively shutting you up. He could have kissed you forever. It was slow and gentle and bottled with emotion. Silent whispers of love and dancing fingers. You pulled away first, lips swollen and eyes dazed.
“You didn’t miss me too much, right?” The blonde kissed you again quickly, stealing your breath away.
You hummed, standing on your toes to kiss him again. “No, not at all.”
“You are a terrible liar, dove. And if it’s worth anything, I missed you.”
“Trust me, god of thunder. I missed you so much more.”
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amiedala · 3 years
Text
Something More (the mandalorian x reader)
CHAPTER 3: TO TRUST
Rated: Explicit (not this chapter, but future chapters will be)
Warnings: descriptions of violence
Summary: “What…” he starts.
“You got hit—” you interrupt.
“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.
“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”
“Oh,” he sighs, and then he’s pushing himself off the floor despite literally every single warning you spurt at him, and finally, he’s up against the same wall you’re leaning against. The space is small, small enough that two people would be pushing it, and the fact that one of those people is much larger than the other and in giant beskar armor means that your forehead is almost flush against the visor when he turns his head into you. Your breath catches in your chest. It’s not lost on you that in the heat of the moment, you didn’t run. You ignored where you were, and you forged on to save him. That didn’t happen the last time you were on this planet and the fact that belonging to something—to someone—was enough to push past the fear and do it anyway sung inside you.
The baby is in your face. You startle awake to a sea of green. He babbles as you jolt up, clapping his tiny hands together in celebration. He’s all swaddled up in his own robes, but he’s so much warmer than you are, and you groan as he hops up against you, fingers beating around your arm as you bring him in closer to your chest, hoping to leech off his warmth. Slowly, painfully, you push yourself off the ground and push on your neck to make it crack, the pain shooting up behind your eyes like starfire. You don’t want to see what shape your belly’s in.
“Good morning,” you slur through sleep, as the baby giggles and pushes into you. You just stay there, half awake, slouched against the wall of the ship, when suddenly the baby is being plucked from your arms and you’re staring into beskar.
It’s not lost on you that you’re at eye level with the Mandalorian’s crotch, and while you try your hardest to not let your gaze linger there in an obvious way, your eyes stutter once or twice looking up to where the helmet is.
“You’re awake.”
“Barely.”
He kneels so that you’re almost at eye level, and he’s dangerously close to you again. You feel your cheeks flush, the rush low in your belly, deeper than your injury, deep down somewhere warm.
“I need to see you.”
“Huh?” You manage, and hope it’s not as croaky as it seems.
“Your stomach. I need to make sure you don’t need a shot or to get checked out by a professional.”
You nod as his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, going slow, giving you a chance to stop him if you want. You want to sit on your hands and just let him take it all the way off, but you try to focus your brain elsewhere. Literally anywhere else. You fail. His hands are just as large as last night.
“You’re telling me you’re not a professional?”
“I know how to take care of injuries. I mean… a nurse droid, or something.”
“Last time I checked, this was an injury,” you pressed, a smile breaking out of your face faster than you can control it. “And you hate droids.”
“The injuries I usually take care of are my own. I can gauge how bad the pain is, how deep the cut goes. I’m not inside you,” he says, and it’s so fast that you think you imagined it, “so I can’t tell how bad it is.”
You blink at him, stunned into silence. Your heart is so loud and fast you’re terrified he can hear it. In the background, the baby is staring at you with his giant, magic eyes, and you know he can hear it, the little womp rat, the way he’s smiling at you. “Not bad.”
The Mandalorian taps your stomach, not enough to really hurt you, but enough to startle the bruise. You wince. “Bad,” he says, simply, point proven.
You let him check you out and argue about how it wasn’t that bruised, and it ached but you could move, and finally, very begrudgingly, he let you stand. You tried to gesture him up the ladder to the cockpit, but he shook his head, arms crossed.
“You first.”
You squint at him, shocked by his brazenness, shocked that he’s insinuating watching below you as you ascend the ladder, and your tummy does full back flips before you realize that he’s probably waiting to make sure you have enough working muscles in your abdomen to keep yourself upwards as you climb. You’re thankful you’re going up first, now, with the way you’re blushing again.
The ladder is a beast, but you’re up, and you’re not hurting that bad, so you make your way over to the chair where you usually hold the baby and fall into it. The ship is hurtling through hyperspace, smoother than the X-Wing did, but still shakily, and you have to avert your eyes from the rush of it because it’s starting to make you dizzy. Something brushes your leg, and you realize it’s the Mandalorian’s cape, worn and tattered, but fluttering past you even in the cockpit, and you bring a knee to your aching chest to hide your smile as he breezes past you to the pilot’s seat.
“Are you hungry?”
You can’t tell who he’s talking to until the baby looks at you, bug-eyed and questioning. “Not really.”
“You need to eat something.”
“I will. I can’t eat too soon after I wake up or I get sick. I don’t think vomiting would do my stomach any favors.”
He cocks his helmet back at you and you smile again, jutting your chin into your hand. He’s silent, but it isn’t an unsettling one. After sleeping a foot from him last night, you don’t think his silence will ever make you feel unsettled or uneasy again. It’s just there, permeating, surrounding both of you. You want to ask him a million things, and you don’t know which one to pick, but you also don’t want to force anything through the quiet.
It feels like hours have passed by the next time you open your mouth. You want to ask him where you’re headed again, but what falls out instead is, “Do you even know my name?”
He looks back at you, swings his helmet back to center, and then spins the entire chair around instead. “What?”
“I’ve been living here for almost a month,” you realize, counting the days on your fingers. “I babysit your kid. You trust me with your ship,” you say, looking up at the stars flying past the Crest. “Do you know my name?”
He stares at you. The helmet is obscuring his vision, but you know he’s staring at you. You can feel his eyes on your face, looking how your lips are parted, your hair still piled in a mess on your head.
“Of—” he starts, and then both of you are thrown sideways. Something on the dashboard is blaring, and before you can haul yourself off the floor, the Mandalorian is extending a hand to you as he navigates the ship out of hyperspace. You scramble back to the chair and buckle in, grabbing onto the baby’s floating cradle so that he won’t get knocked around either. You want to ask if the Mandalorian needs your help, but as quickly as the ship fell into disarray, the beeping stops. Your heart is hammering.
“What was that—?”
“I forgot about the shields,” he muttered under his breath, and then you look outside the window, and you realize where you are. You swallow, looking out at the planet in front of you, wide and purple and all-encompassing. You fold your legs up under yourself, not focused on anything except where you’re headed. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, hungry and roaring.
“Hey,” his voice filters back in, and it’s sharp, and you look over at him, trying to look neutral. You can tell it’s not working. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell again?”
“No,” you whisper, and then repeat it louder, “No, I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting to…be back here anytime soon.”
The Crest pulls through the planet’s atmosphere, and you breathe a sigh of relief that you aren’t anywhere close to the heart of Galactic City, that wherever the bounty’s new coordinates were, it was on the opposite side of where you had been the last time you were here. Besides, you were staying on the ship, and you didn’t have to breathe any of the air of the planet if you didn’t want to. You swallowed, and as he pulled into a landing bay, you realize the Mandalorian’s helmet is still trained on you.
“You’re not a fan,” he says. It’s not a question. “Of Coruscant.”
“No,” you say, and you don’t elaborate because you’re not sure if you can without your voice shaking.
He keeps his visor trained on you, and you try to smile, but you’re afraid it’ll come out looking more like fear. “I’ll be quick,” he says, and his voice is low, honest. It reminds you of the way he talks to the kid, not to you, but you’re too shaken by being thrown out of hyperspace and landing on the planet you almost died on to understand the significance of his cadence. “Come downstairs with me.”
You follow him, aware of his gaze on your body as you descend the ladder. In any other circumstance, you could feel it burning straight through you, but you were too focused on trying not to fall. Silently, you match his footsteps as he walks over to the armory. His body is so large, so present, that you focus on the beskar and try to keep moving. The Mandalorian pushes a lever and the armory opens, and you blink at all the metal as your eyes adjust.
“Pick one.”
Hazily, you remember he told you to pick a weapon last night, and you let your eyes survey all the glinting metal before you settle on a small blaster, one that looks like a cousin of the one you lost in your crash landing. Similar enough to be strapped to your thigh in the same belt you still have around your waist, and you fit it in there triumphantly. You give the Mandalorian a half smile, and he nods, shutting the case.
It’s dark in the Razor Crest, even in Coruscant’s glitz and glamour. You rest your head against the wall, suddenly exhausted.
“I’ll be quick,” the Mandalorian repeats after prolonged silence, after you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to say anything else. “You stay here, with the doors locked. Sleep more, if you need it.” He tosses you something, and you don’t catch it in time. You bend down to grab it, but his hand is already around it, glancing off your hand for a second too long as he presses it into your palm. “This is to be used for emergencies,” he says. You stare at it. It’s a commlink, a new, fancy one. You nod. “If… if something happens, or if…” he trails off, cocking his head at you, “if I need you to come get me, you just press this button, and you can talk to me.”
He lingers for a second longer and then descends the gangplank, and it isn’t until he’s gone that his words fully register.
If you have to come get him? That’s new.
“Hey!” you call, and you know he can’t hear you anymore, but you can’t help yourself, “what constitutes as an emergency?”
  Hours pass. One, slowly, and then two, and then three. You finally eat, you make sure the baby has too. You think about showering, but you haven’t been able to lift your arms above your head since you got your stomach bruised yesterday, so you lay spread eagled on the floor babbling halves of songs and whatever random thought runs through your head. You do everything you can to not look outside at the planet around you, to ruminate on the sleek buildings. You haven’t been on Coruscant for years, not since you were first out on your own when you were still a teenager, and you’ve tried everything in you to forget what happened the last time you were on the planet’s surface.
The baby coos at your feet, and you prop yourself up on your forearms, still sore. It doesn’t ache as much as it did this morning, and your bruises have turned this ugly yellow color around the edges, but you can flex without agony, which definitely means you’re just banged up.
“Hi bug,” you say, and he giggles, climbing up onto your sore belly, and you groan. “Hi. What’s up?”
He makes a series of noises, and you can’t understand him like his father clearly can, but you can gather the gist of what he’s saying. He’s babbling away, now pointing his tiny finger up to the ceiling, and you pretend you know exactly what he means.
“You’re absolutely right. Mhm, yep, I know. Is that true?”
He claps his hands together.
“You’re right, again, you little womp rat. Excellent point.”
He giggles.
“You’re much cuter than a womp rat, you know.” You pause. “I gotta tell you though, buddy, I don’t know what a womp rat looks like.”
He gasps, all awe. You look at him. There’s something about the kid, something magical, something that feels…elevated. You look into his big eyes, and you see yourself. You know that it’s because the things are huge, but it’s that same gnawing intuition in your belly that you had when you first met the Mandalorian, the same one that told you to crash land on Nevarro instead of trying to make it somewhere else, the same one that got you out of Coruscant the last time—you shake your head, trying to clear it from your head. You softly touch the baby’s nose, just once, and he giggles and climbs into your arms.
It doesn’t take long until you start itching for something else to do, so you peel yourself off the cockpit’s floor and start cleaning, using part of your torn shirt to dust off the dashboard and the pilot’s seat, humming ancient lullabies under your breath. You stop short when you realize you’re singing, and you double check the air locks, making sure you’re safe in here. You don’t dare to put on the radio, and you don’t sing louder than under your breath, because even though you have the new blaster strapped to your hip, the memory of yesterday is still too recent in your head. It isn’t long until you find yourself in the tiny room where the fresher is, looking at yourself in the mirror for the first time in days.
Your eyes are wild, that’s the first thing you notice. Frazzled, on edge, the kind of gleam that you used to get flying in the Alliance, but without the pride and the adrenaline. Your hair is a hot mess. You touch the lock of hair the Mandalorian pushed behind your ear last night, reverently, softly. Your shirt is ripped and stained to hell, and your necklace is hanging at a strange angle, the chain link touching the insignia, totally off kilter. You see the small blaster on your hip catch the light, and you pull it out of its hold. It’s shiny, sturdy, and much newer than the one you lost in the fire. You’ve never been a perfect shot, but the gun fits in your hand as well as the old one did, and when you hold it, you feel confident enough to know how to cock it back and pull the trigger, and you think you probably hit the target.
You look forlornly at the shower, and before you can think about how sore you are, you strip the rest of your clothes off, leaving the gun and the commlink on the small counter beside the mirror. You’re planning to be quick, just a rinse and scrubbing soap off of the leftover blood and grime from the night before, but when the water hits, it’s warm and inviting and it envelops you. You let it unfurl your messy hair from your head, let it permeate into your sore shoulders and all the way down your spine, temporarily washing away the years of nights spent sleeping in uncomfortable positions on makeshift beds. You touch your fingers over your belly, following the scar straight down to where it drifts off on the left side of your stomach. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the bruises resist your fingers. You reach for the soap, and it’s blindly, and you don’t realize until you’ve been scrubbing for a minute that it’s very much not the subtle lavender scent you picked up a few bounties back, but the Mandalorian’s. It smells like clean wood and leather and strangely, cinnamon, that amalgamation of freshness that fades off skin slowly. You push the full bar up to your nose, and when you breathe in you can almost see it lathering into his skin, can almost feel your tongue licking clean up against it if he was in here with you—you catch yourself. Again. It’s there again, the arousal and want that had been long dormant before you ever met the Mandalorian. He’s infiltrated everything. You shake water out of your hair and think of anything else while your hands slip down the rest of your body, trying and failing to forget the way his voice got low when he found you hurt, how he touched you, how he held your throat with a singular hand—
Something is making noise, and you force yourself out of your fantasy to the sound. “Hey,” comes a disembodied voice, and your wet hand fumbles for the blaster before you realize it’s coming from the commlink. You sigh, turning off the water, tripping out of the fresher, scrambling to pick it up.
“Are you okay?”
“I need you to come get me.”
You stare at the commlink, then at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t have clothes on. Come to think of it, you don’t know if you have clothes to change into, and you’ve suddenly been promoted to getaway driver.
“Can you hear me?”
Even through the modulator, his voice is deep. You startle yourself out of your reverie.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I need a minute—”
“I’m going to give you coordinates,” the Mandalorian says, and then there’s a huge blast, and silence.
“Hey. Hey! Mando—”
“I’m here,” he says, but it’s gruff. “Dank ferrik. I’m hit. Here are the coordinates.”
You scramble out of the fresher, looking for clothes. You can’t find anything, and your bag must still be upstairs in the cockpit, so you shove open the alcove where the Mandalorian sleeps in a desperate attempt. There’s a shirt, just a shirt, but it falls to your knees and you make your compromise with the underwear you stepped out of before the shower. “I’m coming. Please hold on. Pleaaaaase hold on,” you whisper, low enough that you hope he can’t hear your wheedling, and then you’re up the ladder, your hair wet and wild, dripping on the cockpit floor.
“Do you have your blaster?”
“Um,” you say as you navigate the Crest out of the landing bay—hell, this ship doesn’t know how to move. “Yes?” You scramble down the ladder and back up again with your blaster in hand. You punch in the coordinates and let the ship go into autopilot as you scramble back down the ladder and grab the gun, wrapping your wet hair up in a towel.
“Grab the kid and put him in his cradle,” the Mandalorian says, and you do, and the wild look in the baby’s eyes makes you give him a quick kiss before you shut the crib and push him into the darkest corner.
“I’m almost here,” you say, and you can see what he was talking about. You’re still not near the hustle and bustle of Galactic City, but Coruscant has layers, each of them grittier than the last. The Mandalorian is attached to what you hope to the Maker is his quarry, lugging the conspicuous body up a hill, blasting at what looks like twenty other men. “I’m here. I’m gonna land—”
“You need to get out of sight,” he manages, and the commlink goes quiet. You do your best to land the ship—it’s not handling well at all—and then scamper down the ladder for the third time in wet feet. You grab the baby’s floating egg and your blaster, strapping the commlink to your wrist, and scrambling into the little alcove that holds the Mandalorian’s bed.
There’s a minute before he enters the ship, and everything is quiet. You huddle at the back of the chamber, the baby next to you with the blaster in your hand. Your towel has come loose and there are wet chunks of hair in your face, and you wait in the silence before he comes in. The cot is tiny, and not that comfortable, but this small space smells like his soap and the dirt he carries around, and despite it feeling lumpy in all the wrong place, you could absolutely fall asleep here, surrounded by him. It distracts you, and you hum lowly in your throat before you hear the hiss of the gangplank and you swallow all the air.
You’ve been seen by bounties before, they’ve made comments about you, and then they’ve been frozen in carbonite. A few looked dangerous, a few were just creepy, but the Mandalorian always let you handle yourself around them. This is the first time he’s ever told you to get out of sight, and you don’t know if it’s because the events of last night are still fresh in his mind, or because whoever he captured was dangerous. You wait with bated breath as you hear blows land, and when it’s been quiet for what you gauge is long enough before you peek out of the alcove. The Mandalorian is on the ground, and you can’t tell if he’s just resting after a fight until someone peeks back at you and you pull the trigger the second the alcove doors fly open. You rocket up on your knees, punching one arm out at a swaying body before he hits the ground, and the Mandalorian comes to. The man on the ground is livid, swinging at your bare feet, and you kick him backwards, not gracefully, but powerfully enough, and he collides with the carbonite gas, and before the Mandalorian can get to his feet, you press the button. The blue faced bounty is frozen, instantly, and you gasp in air as you sag back on the Mandalorian’s bed.
“What did I say about getting out of sight?”
“I did,” you manage, between gasps, “and then you got knocked out.”
He trains his visor on you, and you smile victoriously for a full second before you realize his hand is bloody. You follow it down to the slip in the beskar and see that there’s a nasty gash under where his hand is pressed.
“You’re hurt.” You scramble forward, grabbing the towel off your head. Your hair falls in your face, and it definitely smells like his soap, but you’re not sure if he’s conscious enough to notice. “Hey. Hey you. Mando. Stay awake.”
“’M fine,” he slurs, and you want to pull the helmet clean off his head and look into his eyes when you tell him to shut up.
“Definitely not fine,” you say, pulling him down to the ground with you. It’s messy, you know that much, and you know he has some bacta patches hidden around you, but you need the bleeding to stop. “Hey. Listen to me. I have to take this off,” you say, gesturing at the plate at his midriff. “You’re hit, I think it was a blast, but I need to make sure.”
“No,” he says, and you grab his visor and drop to your knees on his left side, pushing your palm flat against it.
“I’m not going to look at anything except the cut. You weren’t hit in the head, were you?”
“No,” he repeats, and you nod.
“Okay, then I’m not gonna see your face. I won’t look at anything else except the cut. But you’re losing blood, fast, and there’s definitely people shooting at the ship, and I need to make sure you’re okay before I get us the hell out of here.”
He nods. It’s small, but you catch it.
You inhale sharply when you lift the small piece of armor. He’s bleeding, but the wound is small, and you’re able to shove the towel on it to suffocate the blood while your hand flutters around in the small hold behind you until you can find ointment and the bacta patches. “Hey. Mando.” His hand finds your free wrist, and you stop investigating the ointment to look at him. “What?” you ask, your voice softer.
“Cauterize,” he manages, and you look back and forth between him and the wound, and you shake your head.
“It’s not that bad,” you promise, checking to see if the blood has started to clot around the wound. “Look, it’s gonna hurt for a few days, but the bleeding is slowing down, and I can give you this ointment and then put the bacta patch over it, and you’re going to be okay.”
He flails at your arm again, and before you can realize what you’re doing, you straddle him, one hand on his abdomen against the stifled wound, and one reaching up to touch his helmet, as lightly as you can, in some desperate attempt to soothe him, “I promise, I know when a wound needs cauterizing.” You point at your own stomach, hoping he’ll remember the scar. He nods again, and you exhale. “I swear, I’m going to fix it right now, okay?”
You pull the towel away and press the ointment into his skin. You can tell it stings, he hisses and groans through the modulator, and if you weren’t so preoccupied with trying to save his life, your brain would have fixated on the noises he was making as you straddled him. Once the bacta patch was secure and you were sure that it held, your fingers grazed over his bare skin. It was golden, soft to the touch, such a stark contrast to the shiny silver beskar exoskeleton that you stopped just for a moment to stare at it. You touched as lightly as you could, and once you were positive that he had stopped bleeding, you pulled his undershirt down and reattached the armor, sliding sideways off of him, resting against the same wall for the second time in two days.
It took a few minutes and lots of nervous babbling from the baby, but the Mandalorian finally eased himself back into consciousness, and when you heard him stir, you whipped around.
“What…” he starts.
“You got hit—” you interrupt.
“…Are you wearing?” Mando finishes, and your cheeks flush, looking down at his giant shirt you never changed out of.
“I was—when you called, I was in the fresher,” you say, scooting slightly closer to him, resting on both knees. “I didn’t have time to put anything else on before you told me to hide.”
“Oh,” he sighs, and then he’s pushing himself off the floor despite literally every single warning you spurt at him, and finally, he’s up against the same wall you’re leaning against. The space is small, small enough that two people would be pushing it, and the fact that one of those people is much larger than the other and in giant beskar armor means that your forehead is almost flush against the visor when he turns his head into you. Your breath catches in your chest. It’s not lost on you that in the heat of the moment, you didn’t run. You ignored where you were, and you forged on to save him. That didn’t happen the last time you were on this planet and the fact that belonging to something—to someone—was enough to push past the fear and do it anyway sung inside you.
“I know,” the Mandalorian says, and you inhale, hoping you didn’t just unintentionally say all of that out loud.
“What?”
He sighs, and it comes out through the modulator, but he’s not annoyed. You can tell that much through his filtered air—you know when he’s exasperated, and more and more lately, it hasn’t been directed towards you.
“Your name.”
You swallow. “Say it.”
He does. Perfectly. “It suits you. Names…Mine has only been shared once since I became a Mandalorian. I was on my deathbed, and that’s the only reason. I haven’t named the kid. He might already have one, but I don’t know it, so I don’t use it.”
You nod against the visor, your head touching his helmet. The beskar is surprisingly warm, and you pause there for a second, not wanting to move it away.
“Names don’t hold significance to me,” he whispers, and it cuts through the darkness of the hull of the ship. “I don’t need them to trust someone.”
You want to say you understand, even if you don’t entirely get it, but he sighs again and then you think he’s asleep, his helmet sliding down to the crook between your head and your shoulder. If you reached with your pinky, it could interlink with his gloved one, and you wait a few minutes to be sure he’s okay. When you hook his pinky with yours, he breathes, cinches it at the knuckle, and fades off into sleep.
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