okay so. hubris project. my friend @mushroom-in-space has moved into their own place and i WANTED to have this done for their move which was uhhhhhhh last summer. it is not. done. yet. new deadline is mid march.
its a crochet blanket, pattern brought to you by ravelry, one of the scheepjes cals:
now, i looked at this and went. hm. i dont like the structural integrity of those lace corners. i'm gonna back it. and because i can't fucking chill, i decided to patchwork the backing fabric, which will then get basted on a wool fabric and lined with a white cotton to make the design stand out.
currently im about 2/3rds done with the patchworking, i need to do another one of these panels, iron everything and attach the border. (and. remove all the basting. sob.)
had to be a herringbone because. hello. have you met me.
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Shang Qinghua: *carrying a stack of supplies with both hands*
Mobei-Jun: *reaches out to help him*
Shang Qinghua: *moves the supplies to one arm to hold Mobei's hand and then smiling, sweet and chipper*
Mobei-Jun: that's not what this King--
Shang Qinghua: What was that, my King?( ◜‿◝ )♡
Mobei-Jun: ... nevermind (///ಠ_ಠ///)
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hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !
{☆} characters arlecchino
{☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader
{☆} warnings 18+ content
"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.
But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.
"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.
"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.
"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"
The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.
"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.
She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.
"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."
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#109
When the doorbell rings, the hero’s kind of hoping it’s the pizza delivery guy.
They open the door to find, tragically, not the pizza delivery guy.
“Uh,” the villain says, “hi.”
The hero isn’t entirely sure what sequence of words would best fit this scenario. “Hi?” is the best they can do.
The villain shuffles on their feet awkwardly. A pause hangs between them, filled by the distant roar of the city beyond. “I thought you’d ask why I’m here,” they say eventually.
“I’m more concerned about how you’re here.”
A smile threatens the corners of the villain’s mouth. “We know where all you heroes live.” The smile fades into nothing again. “Or just I know, now, I guess.”
“Okay.” The hero squints at the villain uncertainly. “I’ll entertain you. Why the hell are you standing outside my door?”
“No one wants to be a villain anymore. Everyone quit.” The villain’s face contorts into some unreadable expression. “It’s just me.”
That doesn’t sound right. From the villain’s slight grimace, they know it too. “Everyone… quit villainy,” the hero repeats.
“There’s nothing to gain from it anymore. We had a vote and I was the only one who wanted to keep going.” The villain’s gaze dips to their hands as if they hold answers. “They left me everything, but… I can’t do it all on my own. So I’m turning myself in.”
The hero stares at the villain for a long moment. “Even [Supervillain].”
“Especially [Supervillain].”
The hero steps aside with a sigh. The villain looks like they’re being invited into a pit of wolves. “You want me to come into your house?”
“My handcuffs are in my living room cabinet and I don’t trust you standing out there. It’s cold, anyway.”
The villain closes the door behind them in an uncharacteristic show of politeness as the hero digs through their drawers. They’re wiping their shoes on the mat when the hero gets back, cuffs in hand.
The villain holds their hands out and the hero clicks the cuffs around their wrists. It’s almost too easy. The question is sitting on the tip of their tongue.
“What’s the catch?”
The villain doesn’t seem surprised by the question. They shrug halfheartedly. “Dunno.” They glance about for inspiration. “All the others have gone into hiding, I guess. You have me, but everyone else will probably evade you for the rest of time.”
“Much like they already do.” The hero manoeuvres them to the sofa in the living room, giving them a nudge to make them actually sit down. “You make it sound like you’ve been left in charge of the entire criminal organisation.”
The barking laugh the villain lets out is entirely fake. Too sharp, too short. “I have.”
“So villany will collapse without you.”
The villain shrugs again, the motion laden with effort. “Not like anyone else was willing to carry that burden—and I’m not either, hence why I’m, y’know…” They gesture vaguely at themself, in cuffs, in the hero’s living room.
The villain goes, villainy is defeated. No more villains, no more big crimes, no more heroes. Everything the agency has worked to be would collapse. The hero would be out of a job. It'd be over.
Yet here the villain is, giving everything up, taking the entirety of villainy down with them. The sole survivor of a shipwreck and wishing they’d gone down with the ship. A ship they don’t seem to realise the hero is on too.
The doorbell rings again, and the hero leaves the villain carefully settling on the sofa to answer it. They return with a giant grin on their face and a giant pizza box in their hands.
“Let’s worry about all this afterwards,” the hero says brightly. They brandish the box at the villain in the hopes of tempting them. “Want some?”
The tempting works; the villain reaches for a slice. “What a last meal.”
The hero sets the box on the coffee table as they flop back on the sofa. “I don’t know, [Villain],” they say with a smile, “I don’t think it has to be.”
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One thing I really love about Marcille is that despite her deep fear of outliving her loved ones, she never, never let's it get in the way of her making bonds and getting close to people. She loves deeply and strongly and she doesn't try to supress that! She embraces it wholeheartedly! Her friends are so important to her and she's not ashamed or scared of it!
Actually, out of all the characters, I'd say Marcille is one of the ones who care the most about bonds of friendship. She's angry at Namari for leaving after Falin got eaten and holds that grudge up until Namari helps defeat the Undine (and therefore having 'proven' herself). She's shocked and upset when Chilchuck explains his policy of payment and that he's not really here bc of friendship. She puts a lot of focus on the party being a Group Of Friends rather than a team of hired hands dedicated to the specific role(s) they are paid for. Which of course makes sense since she joined the party to begin with because of her friend! To her, the party has always been 'Falin and her brothers' friend group' rather than a hired party. (A little reminder: Marcille was the most recent member when the story starts. She never met the previous members who left so the team of Laios, Falin, Chilchuck, Namari and 'Shuro' is what she's always known it as.)
When she becomes dungeon lord, the thing that manages to snap her out of the Winged Lions grasp is the earnest care and love her party is showing her. Literally 'power of friendship'ed their way through the Lions hold and gave her her clarity of mind back.
And!!!! At the end of the feast right before they're about to attempt to revive Falin again, she says!!! this!!!!
She's ready to accept that Falin might not come back, even after everything. The entire story she's been running away from death, from having to outlive her loved ones (in this case: Falin). But here she is, ready to let her stay dead if this last attempt doesn't work.
And it's not giving up. It's realizing that she did all she could, and that it's okay. Because she still got to meet and be friends with Falin. That time with her might be just a speck in the length of life Marcille will have to live still, but it still happened and that's what matters.
It's not about escaping death; it's about cherising the moments before it.
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