#‘here let me just sketch something real quick to show what i mean’

[mumblesplash]

i always imagine scar as having scar tissue on the side of his face that pulls the edge of his mouth up slightly. not enough to look strained or uncanny, not enough to even realize that's what's happening unless you've spent a lot of time around him, but just enough so that it looks like he's constantly, always smirking a little bit

oh man so see this is Interesting, bc you honestly don’t need the scar tissue to even pull much to get this effect, just giving him a lip scar in the right place would make it look like he’s always slightly smiling

^tried to show what i mean here, literally nothing else about his expression is different between the two images, just that one tiny mouth scar

(imo a bigger scar there would actually affect his expression LESS than this, because eventually your brain goes ‘oh that’s not part of his mouth that’s something else’ and doesn’t register it as much)

[bookish-blood]

Modern AU

Keyleth looks up from her sketches as the little bell over her door chimes. „Vex! Hi, nice to see you. Sorry, I’ll just-“

„I’m a bit early, not to worry.“ Vex leans against the counter, picking up one of the business cards and twirling it between her fingers. „By the way, I was thinking… You know, Percy and I are together for a while now. So how instead these arrows we talked about we-“

„Vex, I am not tattooing your boyfriends name on you! It’s so stupid to do that! And I-“

Vex grins. „I was joking.“ She pockets the business card and winks at Keyleth. „Show me my arrows?“

Keyleth glares at her, more playful than anything else. „I hate you,“ she say without any real heat behind it. Throwing her pencil to the side, she shrugs out of her light cardigan, revealing a beautiful sleeve of floral designs on her left arm. „But I had a fun time doing some sketches for you. Look.“ Out of a drawer she pulls various sketches, all of arrows in different designs. „I’m favouring this one. Do you still want it on your forearm?“

„On the inside, yes.“ Vex takes the sketch Keyleth has pushed towards her. It shows three arrows crossing each other in the middle, their arrowheads and feathers beautifully rendered. „This look gorgeous, Keyleth. Would you mind some colour on those?“

Keyleth grins. „I should be the one asking you. What are you thinking?“

Vex points to the feathering. „Can you make them raven and magpie?“

„Sure. Let me look something up real quick and I’ll add some colour to the sketch. If you like it, we can get started.“ Keyleth starts to type away on her computer and modifying the sketch. „Can I get you something to drink?“

„I’ve got some water, but thanks.“

„You’ve eaten?“ Keyleth raises an eyebrow at her, looking briefly up from her sketching.

Vex returns the look. „It’s not my first tattoo.“

„So?“

„Yes, I’ve eaten. No alcohol yesterday and not even a coffee today so far. Which, I might add, is a great sacrifice on my end.“

Keyleth chuckles. „Your sacrifice is appreciated.“ She tweaks the design a bit more, then nods her head. „Alright, let’s go back.“ She starts prepping her workspace and, after putting on gloves, Vex’s skin.

Hours pass with chatting, laughter and the occasional scolding, all while the machine whirrs and the design comes to life on Vex’s skin. They are nearly finished, when the bell over the door chimes again. „Just a moment!“ Keyleth yells. She carefully turns Vex’s arm and traces a few lines a second time before setting aside the machine and gently wiping it down. „We’ll let it sit for a few minutes, then I’ll pack you in. Remember, no bathing for the next four weeks, no direct sun for the next six. After that, do use sunscreen. And remember to-“

„To care for it especially in the next two weeks and not let Trinket slobber it up, I know. It’s not my first tattoo, you know?“

„I do know. A few of yours a from me, after all.“ Keyleth wipes Vex’s arm down again before covering the fresh tattoo in adhesive tape. „I’ll see who it is. Take as much time as you need.“ She throws her gloves into the trash and pushes her stool away to stand up.

A man stands with his back to her, his gaze on the wall that holds her various sketches, interspersed with some photos of those she has tattooed over time. His long, dark hair falls open over his shoulders save for a few braids with beads in them. Hearing her steps, he looks over his shoulder; his resemblance to Vex is uncanny. „You are Keyleth?“

„I-i-i am.“ Keyleth clears her throat. „I mean, I am, yes. You are…?“

„Vax’ildan. I’m here to make a deposit on my appointment?“ He smiles, almost unsure of himself.

„Of course! Just let me get my notes.“ Keyleth rummages through her desk. „Here! Two daggers, one on each forearm, right? One with flames.“

„That’s me.“

„Vax? What are you doing here?“ Vex comes out, holding her arm at a bit of an awkward angle. „Where’s Trinket?“

„What, you think I bring him into a tattoo studio?“ Vax raises an eyebrow at her. „I took you for being smarter, sister. Though maybe I shouldn’t, with you dating Freddie and all that.“

„You, Vax’ildan, are an arse.“

„Sister?“ Keyleth looks up, eyes wide. Both twins turn their attention to her pointing at their own faces. „Right. I just… I didn’t know you were the brother Vex keeps talking about.“

Vax turns back to his sister, grinning. „Aaw, you do love me. And to answer your question, Trinket is with Pike. She holds the fort at the shop, there’s a delivery of fresh flowers supposed to arrive today. So, here’s the agreed deposit,“ he puts a few bills on the counter, „and I’ll be back on the fifth. Do you need anything else of me?“

„Uhm, no, no. Just tell me if you change your mind about what you want to have tattooed or if you can think of any details you’d like to have incorporated. And if you can’t make it to the appointment, it would be nice to let me know in time.“

Vax nods. „Of course.“

„I’m looking forward to it.“ Keyleth smiles softly, then turns her attention at Vex. „If you’re unsure about anything or have questions during healing, just let me know. And no scratching!“

„As always, will do. You outdid yourself, darling.“

„A pleasure. And give Trinket some scritches from me.“

~*~*~*~*~*~

„Hi, how can I-? Oh, Keyleth. Hello.“ Vax smiles warmly, brushing off his hands. „How can I help you?“

Keyleth closes the door behind her, returning his smile. „Vex recommended you. I’m looking for a few plants for the studio. Something… I don’t know.“

„Not a problem. Do you have experience with plants? Do you want something with blooms or without?“

„I have some experience, yes. Not too much, though. And I love flowers I just find them…“

„Intimidating?“ Vax nods, still smiling. „Well, some people tend to kill orchids, but really it’s rather easy to care for them. I think the amount of sunshine in your studio, at least in the front, would be suitable for them. And maybe something without blooms for the back, so that you don’t have to worry about pollen?“ He points to different, luscious plants all around his shop.

Keyleth looks around helplessly. „I, uh, I’d defer to your expertise? This is… This is a lot.“

Vax opens his arms, shrugging. „How long do you have? I could… Well, I could get us a coffee from down the street and then I could show you the plants I’d have in mind for you and answer all your questions. If that is alright with you?“

„Yeah. Yeah, sure.“ Keyleth can feel the blush spreading to the tips of her ears. „Uhm, I can take care of the coffee? I’m sure you cannot leave the shop unsupervised.“

„I could always close up,“ Vax retorts with a grin. „But sure, if you insist. Just,“ he rummages around in his pocket and pulls out a few knittered bills, „take this. No protests! I’ll just have a black coffee, no sugar.“ His fingers linger for a moment as he pushes the money in her hands.

Keyleth blushes even harder but doesn’t pull back her hand. „I’ll be back in no time.“

~*~*~*~*~*~

„Alright, that was dagger numer one.“ Keyleth pushes her stool back and snaps off her gloves. „I’d say we go for a little break here and then we’ll take care of your other arm. How are you doing?“

Vax chuckles and moves to rob his left forearm before catching himself. „I’d forgotten how much a tattoo can hurt. But your designs really are beautiful. I mean, the deatils, the depth… No wonder my sister comes back to you.“

She grins at him. „Maybe you’ll come back, too. Oh Gods, I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.“

Vax’s smile turns softer, warmer. „No need. Really, don’t worry. I’ll even bring more plants, if you want to.“

„I, uh, I really love that monstera you brought today. I hope I don’t kill it.“ Her blush is still prominent, feeling as though her face is burning up. „I’ll do my best not to, anyway.“ She clears her throat, finding Vax’s gaze again. „So, this is not your first tattoo?“

„Disappointed? Your daggers are more beautiful, though.“ Vax sighs, rubbing his neck with one hand and reaching for a pen to twirl between his fingers. „Yeah, I was a teenager. It was stupid. Vex… Vex and I were in a difficult situation back then. It’s, uh, it’s not something I like to talk about, to be honest.“

„You don’t need to.“ Keyleth smiles encouragingly. „And should you ever want it covered, just tell me. We’ll work something out. No need to carry a difficult memory on your skin.“

Vax lets out a breath he hasn’t known he has been holding. „That… Yeah, let’s talk about that some time. Maybe after these are healed.“

„Anytime.“ Keyleth gets up and opens a cabinet door at the end of the room. „You want a granola bar?“

„Sure.“

~*~*~*~*~*~

The bell over her door chimes again, causing Keyleth to turn around from where she has watered her plants, which have grown in number ober the past weeks and months since she has met Vax’ildan.

„Vax! Hi.“ She smiles brightly as she recognizes the man entering. „You’re early.“

„I brought you something, a seedling of a plant named Alocasia Antoro Velvet. I thought you might like it.“

Keyleth carefully touches the dark, almost purple leaves. „It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.“

„It’s a rather rare plant. But I managed to get one some years ago and I thought you might like one, too.“

„That is… very thoughtful of you. Thank you very much.“ Keyleth accepts the plant with a smile and places it on the shelf. „Are you ready for our session today?“

Vax nods mutely, briefly averting her gaze.

Keyleth smiles softly and takes his hand. „Come.“ She leads him in the back where her sketches of antlers are already prepared. While she prepares her tattooing machine, he slips out of his shirt, baring the rather simple symbol of the Clasp between his shoulder blades. Keyleth sprays his skin with disinfectant and carefully wipes it down. „I’ll place one of the stencils on it and you can see whether you like it or not. If not, we can try another design or placement. Alright?“

Vax clears his throat, „Alright.“

He lets Keyleth work in silence, until she gently swats his upper arm. „Go to the mirror and tell me what you think.“

„When have I ever not done that?“ He manages a smile, but it feels rather crooked. With a deep breath he braces himself, then he looks up in the mirror. He only sees a pair of elaborate antlers. While the lines are not thick, Keyleth has managed to blend the symbol of the Clasp with the design so much that it almost vanishes behind it. „It’s perfect, Keyleth. Thank you,“ he says, his voice choked. He lets his gaze linger a moment longer before sitting back on the stool.

Keyleth smiles softly and leans forward to kiss his hair before she starts tattooing.

Find the master doc here

This oneshot was inspired by this post by @daniellecroy. I'm almost inclined to make a whole fic out of it, if I should find the time.

[something-in-your-walls]

ALL THE MELVINS HAVE A GROUP CHAT HERE ARE WHAT SK MELVIN HAS EACH OF THEM SAVED AS + SOME OF HIS SMALL THOUGHTS ON THEM!

“megamind” AKA Villainborg (created by @drc00l4tt4) NOTES- refuses to let me put him as a witty nickname, but i did it in secret anyway, and apparently, he’s a supervillain too

“opposite me” AKA SK PPV (created by me!) NOTES- takes after blunder sometimes, even though he’s really nice

“guilt issues” AKA Guilt Ridden Melvin (created by @airim2023) NOTES- i don't like to bother him, he sure seems to be going through it, man

“original? I think?” AKA Book Melvin NOTES- actually he’s specifically known as the ‘book version’, whatever that means

“show?” AKA Show Melvin NOTES- no witty nickname, idk what else to call him

“original borg” AKA Melvinborg NOTES- cocky bastard and I kinda admire him for that ngl “my borg” AKA Borg (created by me!) NOTES- my future self, call only if there’s an emergency

“anti-humor boy” AKA Movie Melvin NOTES- apparently he’s the ‘movie version’??? again, I still have no clue what that means

“sneedly” AKA GP Melvin (created by @n4talia-chaparro) NOTES- very very sweet, i just have to be careful abt messaging him because his krupp can and will kill me if he finds out about our chats “sneedborg” AKA GP Melvinborg (created by @n4talia-chaparro) NOTES- barely ever online and has notifications off at all times, just in case

“opposite original” AKA PPV Melvin NOTES- he’s nice enough, even if there’s barely any braincells in that empty head of his

“alien barista” AKA Livmen NOTES- he acts like he's been conditioned to follow orders, which tracks, bc according to villainborg he was enslaved a while???

“egyptian original?” AKA Melvinites NOTES- can’t be bothered to spell his dumbass name right now, i'll figure it out later

“eat the rich” AKA Melvinport Sneedlyfeller III NOTES- his name is so fucking long, plus he gets annoying QUICK when you ACTUALLY have to deal with him

“snelvin” AKA Bizarro Melvin NOTES- try to dumb stuff down for him, he is NOT good at deducing things, and honestly, I really should know this by now

“professor s” AKA Professor Sneedly (created by @warrior-of-waistbands) NOTES- very clearly does NOT like kids and also refuses to let me give him a witty nickname

“hypno” AKA Hypnostuck Melvin (created by @somepancakeonline5377) NOTES- i think he's magical or something??? and apparently he’s from a game called homestuck????

“hypnoborg” AKA Hypnostuck Melvinborg (created by @somepancakeonline5377) NOTES- im not allowed to block him for his insane ass plans for some reason??? i dunno why though, his plans are probably the most flawed out of everyone's, ngl

“nuclear nerd” AKA Chemical Overdose Melvin (created by @dib-thing-wannabe) NOTES- this kid has fucking superpowers from nuclear waste??? and I thought MY universe was weird

“90’s ‘cool dude’ stereotype” AKA Broski Melvin NOTES- pretty cool I guess, but some of his lingo makes me physically cringe at times.

“she-devil” AKA Merlin Sneedly (created by @bluartist) NOTES- acts like show, but is a girl, and i'm pretty sure that’s basically the only real difference not much to say here about her

“hellraiser” AKA Merlinborg (created by @bluartist) NOTES- merlin’s version of borg, so just borg, but a girl, basically not much to say here about her, either

“rebel roboticist” AKA Redux Robotix Melvin (created by @sketch-twentytwo) NOTES- follows the rules but doesn’t seem to find the adults all that trustworthy???

“mythbusters wannabe” AKA Lab Comix Inc Melvin (created by @infinitree) NOTES- into pranking and tends to see impossible things as a challenge, when they really REALLY aren’t

[mauannacreates]

Flufftober August

Gosh, sorry for being late on this rendition of Flufftober by @flufftober month. I was working quite a bit on my later WIPs, and busy with real life stuff that this one kinda swpt by until last minute.

I have to admit, I quite enjoyed working on this one. Especially with exploring the dynamics between the characters here, I couldn't help but want to do it with Elaine and Marielle, and even did a quick sketch of the surroundings they could be at. So I hope you guys enjoy this one!

---

Elaine struts by, collecting all the things she could find. Weapons, armory and jewlerry. All the things she has found scattered on the floor. Well, so much for try to have a neat room. And when she twists around, she could see the girl who is no more than half her height, reaching to her hips. 

And mind you, she ain't a girl. 

"Lainy! Hi~!" the girl with her eyes barely showing under her pink domed head says, "Oh goodie, it's so nice to see you today!" 

"Do I even want to know how you got into my room?" 

"Nope." despite her sweet smile curving through her lips, something tells Elaine that would probably be the case that she has done something. And despite her small size the tentacles from her sides swirl around. Elaine tenses her lip. She's definitely a lot more dangerous than she's letting on. 

"so… What are we going to do today?" 

"what do you mean?" she gives a forced laugh as she narrows her eyes for the owl that should be there by now. "actually, where's Tynan?" 

"Oh, Ty? We're going to him now." she says "I thought that we can both go to him, like we're badass, sister style." 

Elaine gives a cackling laugh, "Marielle. You know I have more duties to do than to pretend to be your younger-" 

"actually older sister." she gives a stretched smile… Older…?

"How… How old are you?" 

"A hundred and fifty six years old." What the…!? "At least, it'd probably translate to… Twenty one cat years?" twenty one what..? Before Elaine could begin to understand it, she thrusts her hand to her fists. 

"Stop trying to be funny with me." Elaine says. 

"Oh, no, no. It's not me being funny to you at all. It's all seriousness." good grief. Even the way she's facing her with her mouth drooped doesn't make it any easier to say anything that she said is a joke. 

"You know… I'm twenty six, but that…" I stare at her. ”That doesn't make any sense."

"You know how you have cat lives…?" 

"You mean as in cat lives, right…?" 

"yeah, yeah." she says. "I have that sort of thing, but… Limitless." What the hell…?! 

"how in the hell is that possible…!?" Elaine says, and her mouth tenses, but then scrunches up.  

"I, uhh… regenerate…?” Why is she saying it like it’s the most obvious thing…? “It's complicated to explain, but after getting tired or really hurt, I just… Revive myself?" This is sounding more ridiculous by the minute. "I'm sure you'll see it one of these days!"

"I am going to pretend I never heard you say that." 

"Lainy~!" Marielle gives a chided laughter. She is probably the second weirdest– no scratch that, the weirdest Elaine has ever encountered. 

"Look, I don't really care how you revive yourself. Just…" She searches her, but then Elaine gives a sigh as she twists away from her. "Let's go and look for Tynan."

"Okay! Cue the music!" the music? What mus– 

'My, my, how the seasons go by

I get high, and I love to get low

So the hearts keep breakin', and the heads just roll

You know, that's how the story goes'

God, why does she have to sing? And… Where the hell is that music coming from…!? 

'One, two, three, they gonna run back to me

'Cause I'm the best baby that they never gotta keep

One, two, three, they gonna run back to me

They always wanna come, but they never wanna leave –'

"Marielle, stop!" Elaine says, and gosh, what is with her and laughing so much…? 

"Hey, I've got to have some backbeat music somewhere." her smile inches just that bit wider. "especially since I'm walking with my cooler and younger sister~!"

"Yeah, but…" Elaine takes a breath in. If she could only strangle that jellyfish…! But then, something's telling her it would be a mistake if she did that. So she takes a breath in. "We are at a palace. Not at a bar." Elaine says "and I am not your little sister!"

“I know.” She says, “I just like to make you laugh and allll stressed out.” Oh, what…!? So this jellyfish is really doing this on purpose…? She will–  “Just joking.” Marielle gives a soft smile, before her big round dress wavers to the side. “Let’s go Lainy. It’s a nice August day, and hey. It’s soon Spring… or Autumn...?” 

“It’s fall here.” And her pink dome stares up at her for what seems like a few seconds. Even as the other people are walking past the corridor. Who knows what she’s thinking. 

“I knew that.” No, she didn’t. She didn’t. But then she’s turning away…! “Lainy, we have to find Ty soon. We don’t want to keep him waiting.” Of course Marielle doesn’t. But then, Elaine herself didn’t want to keep Tynan waiting either.  

“Fine, but you better explain how you got into my room sooner or later.” and Marielle gives a laugh. Something is telling her she won’t get an answer. But it doesn’t matter. It’s different than with all those other people in Lanz’ castle. Serious, rigid and fine. Well, it ought to be time that Elaine herself did something different around here besides sitting still and acting like a princess the whole day.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

“8 May.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy.” 

Jonathan Harker, Full-Blown Solicitor: At first I felt like talking about how everyone in the entire country feared for my life if I came here, and half the people in the country actively tried to stop me from coming here, and how I almost got eaten by wolves on the way here, and how the coachman is a wizard, and how my host literally never eats around me but spends the whole time I’m eating staring at me like a creep was making too big a deal out of things and complaining for no reason, but now I’m sure of it--this place has bad vibes.

So Jonathan is getting a little antsy because, uh, everything that’s happened to him and also Count Dracula is a complete night-owl who won’t ever let him go to bed before dawn because he’s too busy asking all sorts of questions about England and mysteriously telling Jonathan about his adventures as a merciless warlord for the past thousand years and then laughing it off like “Oh my family just keeps really good records of these things lol namaste :).”

We’ve finally come to the infamous Bermuda Shave Scene where Jonathan’s like:

Count Dracula didn’t show up in the mirror. What the fuck?

He startled me so badly that I cut myself a little.  Boo.

When he saw the blood he went for my throat like a gotdamn murderer. D:

I was like “AAAAAAH!” and jerked away, and he grabbed the crucifix instead, and he was back to normal.  Pretty sure I didn’t imagine that, though?  This whole thing is so weird.

Count Dracula threw my mirror out the window, and it broke.  How am I going to shave now? :(

Guess I’ll have to use the bottom of my shaving pot.  It’s metal, so if he throws that out the window, at least it won’t break. :( :( :(

I mean, for real.  Jonathan is sitting there like “But there was no reflection of him in the mirror!” followed immediately by “This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near.” He discovers this guy has a mysterious Won’t Show Up In Mirrors Syndrome and is like “I’m really beginning to think this guy is sketch.” Who can really blame him for not following up on it, though? Our man’s on a mission to find himself a band-aid. 

Count Dracula: Take care, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it! *yeets shaving mirror out the fucking window as hard as he can*

Shaving mirror: *shatters into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below*

Jonathan: I was… using that?  To shave?

Naturally after all this, Jonathan is like, “Well, a man still has to eat.  Not Count Dracula, which is so strange!  Ha ha, he’s such a weirdo.  I’ve never even seen him drink!  Anyhoo, breakfast time.”

He goes exploring in the castle after breakfast and finds that he can’t get out, and also that it doesn’t really matter if he can’t get out, because they’re in the middle of nowhere.  He goes completely bonkers at discovering this, with all the built-up panic about wolves and sorcerers and staying with Count Dracula finally breaking through his Berlin Wall of denial, and just tears around the castle like a cat with the zoomies trying to open all the doors and windows.

Meanwhile, Dracula is cleaning up the breakfast dishes, making Jonathan’s bed, and planning lunch.

I mean, on the one hand, this is Count Dracula we’re talking about.  On the other hand, this guy is basically running a bed and breakfast with one guest by himself, while trying not to let on at all that he’s the one doing everything, and he’s only done the costume quick-change trick the once, so the rest of it really is involving some ‘60s French farce nonsense where he’s ducking into random rooms and booking it down hidden passages and sticking to the ceiling with half a roast duck under one arm to keep Jonathan from noticing. 

Also he’s spending like 8 hours a night doing nothing but monologuing at this dude, which really eats into your whole cooking/cleaning/shopping time, and you know the brides certainly aren’t going to be helping out with any of this shit.  

Did any of them become the immortal blood-drinking hellwife of the devil to sweep the floors and wash the windows so a twenty-something English idiot would think they had servants?  No, they did not.

Sidebar: Can you even imagine the reaction of the poor peasants to Dracula needing normal people-food for the first time in centuries?  Even if you assume he went out and bought it, it’s something out of a nightmare.  

You’re a 19th century small-town grocer, minding your 19th century small-town grocer business, when in walks Count fucking Dracula wearing the shittiest disguise you have ever seen in your entire 19th century small-town grocer life.  He pulls out a wooden box with dirt still on it, snaps open the rusted-ass lock with his bare hands, starts plunking fucking Roman coins down on the counter like it’s nothing and is all “Hello yes I am a normal person having a normal guest for a few months and need… food.  Normal food, for one normal person.” while refusing to break eye contact.  And if you take more than a few seconds to recover from the aneurysm this induces, he starts helpfully listing foods that you vaguely remember your great-grandmother talking about having when she was a kid, and you have to have another aneurysm about that.

More likely the dude just rolled up to the nearest farms’ storehouses and grabbed anything that looked plausible, and the peasants who lived there were like, “I swear to God and the Virgin Mary and all your favorite saints that I saw Count Dracula legging it out of the barn with three of my chickens and my last bag of coffee beans.  Maybe he’s decided to stop eating people?” Which of course leads to another mass gathering in front of the inn while everybody debates over what this means and starts blessing everything in sight, and somebody gets the priest who’s like, “He’s feeding the Englishman.  He has not decided to stop eating people, he’s a vampire, he can’t just decide to stop eating people.  Biting someone who’s just drank a pot of coffee is probably the closest thing he can get to an espresso, God help us all.”

Anyway, eventually Jonathan reverts to form with “I’m definitely getting murdered, but maybe if I pretend I don’t know that, I can squeak a few more hours out of this.” and also “If I confront him and he denies it, everything will just be really awkward.”

Which, in his defense, it would be?  Imagine that conversation, between these two idiots.

Jonathan: You’re keeping me prisoner here.

Count Dracula: I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s preposterous.  I would never.  You are my honored guest, not my prisoner.

Jonathan: So I can leave whenever I wish.

Count Dracula: Of course.  There’s the door. *gestures to series of locked doors*

Jonathan: They’re all locked.

Count Dracula: No, they’re not. *sits back, steeples fingers, stares at Jonathan like a muppet until Jonathan just gives up and eats dinner like another muppet*

“I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.”

Jonathan: I was utterly and completely doomed.

At this point Jonathan goes sneaking around the castle like a creeper and manages to watch Count Dracula fluffing his pillows and fussing with the table service and presumably basting the chicken with a little chef’s hat on, and all Jonathan can think is:

“This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me?”

Like, I don’t know, my dude.  We could consult, for a moment, your Fun List of Foreign Words everyone in the town was throwing around when they found out you had a coach ticket to Castle Dracula:

“Ordog” (Satan)

“pokol” (hell)

“stregoica” (witch)

“vrolok” and “vlkoslak” (were-wolf or vampire)

Sure sounds like your dude might be some sort of shape-shifting warlock or some shit!

“What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash?”

Meant they didn’t want your ass to get ate, Jon. 

“In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.”

Jonathan Harker really looked at this situation and went, “If only I can get a lonely egomaniac nobleman talking about himself…”

8-10 hours later: He’s that Dracula, all right.

Dracula: The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told.

Also Dracula: My desire to go to England where no one knows I’m a fucking vampire has nothing to do with the British Empire kicking the shit out of Russia two doors down from here and my subsequent discovery that the British Empire is pretty much never not kicking the shit out of somebody, somewhere, to the extent that another thirty or forty war crimes per week could go completely unnoticed if I play my cards right.

[soupbabe]

Hsiadviqbje2h2k- uh-If you're feeling up to writing,,, May I request a platonic star dust crusaders with a child stand user on dios side-? Maybe the kid is hesitant on actually harming them and more or less trying to convince them to leave-

You don't have to do this aiahskapow

An Odd Enemy (Platonic! Stardust Crusaders + Child! Reader)

Dio forced you to be sent off with Hol Horse to defeat the Crusaders.

Kakyoin isn't here because this is low-key replacing the Boingo and Hol Horse episodes oops-

Warning (?) : Hol Horse being a jackass and mistreating reader

You've been living in Dio's mansion for a while now. Your mother being a servant of the ancient vampire, you had to come with her by default. To make yourself as useful as a 10 year old can be, Dio questioned what can you do to make yourself worthy to stay here. It was then you revealed your stand to him, only taking form of a sketch pad and a pencil. You drew your best interpretation of Dio. With a stick figure body, long hair, and the heart headband, your stand was able to register what you wanted to create and there stood an eerily similar looking Dio standing in front of the real one. Dio was impressed that your stand could replicate his likeness from a simple stick figure, although if you look at his doppelganger's pupils, they were just messy scribbles like in the drawing.

Dio saw potential in you and a lot of your time was spent with one of his servants training you on how you could use and improve your stand's ability. Soon enough with your training, you were able to figure out that the more detailed the drawing was, the better chance your stand had to manifest the drawings physically rather than it becoming an illusion. With the loss after loss of Dio's stand users, he sent you off on the big task to kill Jotaro Kujo and his crusaders.

Though with you, he paired you up with a cowboy named Hol Horse. He had been getting on Dio's nerves lately and thought to get him back by using his hatred of children against him. Hol's task was easy: look after you and if you come back with any physical injuries and/or you both fail in killing any of the Crusaders, Dio would kill him off. It would be the third time Hol Horse would encounter the group. If he couldn't succeed the third time, he would be useless from here on out.

Hol Horse glares at you, grumbling about how he has to "babysit" you while you both walk out of the building. "Hey cowboy, what are you talking about?" You looked up at him. "Nothin' of your concern, let's jus' move on and get this over with." You both walked around Cairo (you were more so dragged, Hol Horse deciding to do so because of your "short chicken legs") until Hol abruptly stopped and shoved you into alleyway to get out of sight of a familiar tower of silver hair.

The man held a tough grip on your shoulder and he kneeled down to your height. "Alright, here's what's gonna happen. You get out there and do whatever the hell you gotta do to get the French idiot with the bad hair back here. I'll take care of the rest. Got it?" He hardened his grip until you nodded, tears gathering around your eyes. There's bound to be a bruise later on your shoulder.

He gave you a smirk and shoved you out of the alleyway, causing you to trip and fall. The Frenchman you were supposed to distract was walking and talking to another man clad in gold jewelry and a red robe. You didn't think much of it and ran towards them, yelling for them to get their attention. Avdol was the one to see you and stopped Polnareff "Is something the matter?" He looked down at you with a smile. "I-I..." You were at a lost for words as your stress caved in into you. What was Lord Dio thinking? These men could crush you under their palm if they wanted to and the thought of how disappointed he would be in you alone could make you cry; the mean cowboy only making you feel worse. "Spit it out kid, we're on a tight schedule here." Polnareff looked down at you too, his features softening greatly when he saw you crying.

The two giants kneeled down next to you "Wait, kid, are you okay? I didn't mean to come off that mean..!" Polnareff panicked and you shook your head. "I-I can't d-do it...I'm so sorry!!" You hiccupped. Avdol and Polnareff looked at each other with confusion before mentally agreeing with each other on something. Avdol gave you a light pat on your shoulder and gave you a comforting smile, "Breathe with me okay? 1, 2, 3 take a deep breath in...1,2,3 take a deep breath out. Do you feel any better?" You nodded, "Y-yeah, thank you." Avdol gave you a little headpat. "What's your name? I'm Jean-Pierre Polnareff and this is my friend Muhammad Avdol." You looked at the both of them "I'm Y/N L/N."

You explained to them that you were paired with a man named Hol Horse to lure them into a trap. Once his name slipped from your lips, Avdol and Polnareff's face grew more serious. Immediately, they asked where he was hiding and you gladly told them. When you were close to the alleyway, Jotaro, Joseph, and Iggy caught up with the other crusaders.

"Okay Y/N, do you mind to tell me what's going on? You said that you 'can't do it.' Is someone making you do something you don't want to do?" Avdol asked. You looked around for any sign of Hol Horse and looked back at the two. They didn't seemed to be mad at all or have some sort of cold exterior. It was different from the people you had to deal with at the mansion, for the first time in a long time you found comfort in somebody. Even if they were the supposed 'enemy.'

Polnareff whispered to Joseph about what's going on and asked for them to take Y/N away from the scene that was going to be fighting grounds. Joseph looked at you and nodded. Before Hol Horse can get close to you to drag you back, Joseph took your hand and walked off to a nearby cafe with Jotaro and Iggy, leaving Polnareff and Avdol with Hol Horse. They both smirked, more than ready to get some revenge on the cowboy.

On the walk to the cafe, you clung to Joseph's arm, shying away from the large teenager everytime he glanced back at you. You've heard a lot about Jotaro Kujo, he was the one that landed a lot of people you hung out with in the hospital. Although Dio claims that he isn't a big deal, you couldn't help but to have that underlying fear that he was going to hurt you.

Almost like sixth sense, Jotaro sighed. "Good grief kid, I'm not going to hurt you. You can stop looking at me like that." Joseph rolled his eyes "Be nice Jotaro! They've been through a lot today. Besides Y/N, you did a good thing today, you fessed up before anyone got hurt. I'm proud of you." The old man gave you a headpat while you all went to get seated. You smiled. Yeah, Dio has told you that he was proud of you when you were able to successfully hit targets during stand practice, but it never held anything behind it. It felt empty and cold compared to the warmth Joseph's voice had, spoken like a truly proud father.

You all sat around the cafe, talking to Joseph and Jotaro and bribing Iggy with food to get a couple of pets. You showed off your stand to them and told them how it works, using a glass of water as an example. Later on, Joseph asked you about Dio's whereabouts and you were able to give the best mock up of a map to them on a small notebook from Joseph's pocket. Your memory wasn't the best, but it made great progress in their journey. When Avdol and Polnareff returned, Polnareff puffed his chest out in pride, announcing that they were able to "burn that cocky cowboy to a crisp" and went to check up on you.

You all talked some more about yourselves and once they decided to leave, you didn't hesitate to run up to each crusader to give them a "Good luck" and a quick hug. Although Jotaro did push you away, it didn't stop Star Platinum from coming out to give you a hug himself, he even gave a little 'Ora' in goodbye when he was forced to retreat back to his user.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 10

You were packing up your stuff as students filed out of the lecture hall, it was your last class of the day. As you were walking out towards the parking lot, your phone started to vibrate in your bag. It was the school.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hi Y/N. It’s Mrs. Flynn. I was just calling to let you know that Jo is now waiting inside with me because she was getting cold outside,” she informed you.

“Spencer’s not there?” you questioned, looking at the time displayed on your phone.

Pickup time was fifteen minutes ago.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sorry for the inconvenience,” you opened your car door and set your bag down in the passenger seat, turning on the ignition.

“No worries, I have to reorganize the classroom library anyways so I was already planning on staying after.”

Once the call ended, you tried to call Spencer but it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey Spencer, I don’t know if you forgot but it was your day to pick up Jo. I’m getting her now,” you said as you reversed out of your parking spot.

Minutes later, your phone rang again. Expecting Spencer’s contact to show up on screen, your brow furrowed when the name read “JJ” instead.

“Hi JJ?” you said, more of a question than a greeting.

“Y/N, Spencer has been shot. I already told Will to go back to the school to pick up Jo. You should get here if you can. He’s in surgery now but there has been no update since he went in,” JJ explained.

“Oh my god. Okay, I’m turning around now. How did this happen? He didn’t mention he was on a case?” you pulled into a random parking lot to turn around.

“Well technically, we weren’t. We had a lead on a possible local case and we went to interview a potential witness who could give us some more information. We realized too late that he was the unsub. He thought we were on to him and shot Spencer in the leg while trying to escape.”

You had silent tears running down your face.

“I’m five minutes out” is all you could muster and then you hung up the phone.

You ran into the ER doors to find the rest of the team in the waiting room. You were glad you went to Rossi’s dinner party now or else this would have been a much more awkward first meeting.

“Any updates?” you asked frantically.

“No,” Derek sighed, “But no news is good news.”

You took the empty seat in between JJ and Penelope and put your face in your hands, not wanting everyone to see your tears.

-

Two hours of crappy coffee and vending machine snacks as your only source of sustenance later, a doctor emerged from behind the double doors.

She had a completely neutral expression that you couldn’t read but then again you weren’t a profiler.

“Dr. Spencer Reid?” she asked, glancing down at her clipboard.

All of you stood and desperately crowded around her.

“Dr. Reid is in stable condition and awake. The bullet went into his thigh but it wasn’t through and through. He will need to be on crutches for about a week or so but luckily the bullet wound is near the edge of his thigh rather than the middle, meaning recovery time will be shorter,” she explained.

There was a collective sigh of relief along with a few “thank god”s.

“Although he is awake, I don’t think it’s best if you all go in at once since he is very drowsy. He has been asking for a Y/N?” the doctor looked around at you all.

All eyes fell on you. You collected yourself, grabbing your purse and following the doctor down the hall.

“I’ll let you know how he is,” you told everyone before you disappeared past the double doors.

The doctor guided you into a room at the end of the hall. You thanked her quietly and she nodded in acknowledgement, leaving you two alone. Spencer had his eyes closed but his hospital bed was inclined so he was sitting up slightly. You briskly walked over and took the seat right beside him. You took his hand in yours and squeezed it lightly, combing his messy hair out with your fingers.

As you were softly massaging his scalp, you heard a light groan. You retracted your fingers immediately as Spencer began to open his eyes.

Once Spencer took in his surroundings, he quickly sat up completely in bed, letting out a yelp of pain.

“Jo...it was my turn to pick up,” he said frantically.

“Hey, look at me, Spence. It’s okay, she’s at JJ and Will’s. You were shot in the thigh though so you’re not going anywhere. Please lie back down,” you assured him.

He nodded his head, relaxing a bit and looking down at his hands in his lap. He seemed to be processing something in his head.

“You called me ‘Spence’,” he stated.

Shit. That was twice now. It keeps slipping.

“Sorry, I-,” you began to ramble some apology that you didn’t even know where you were going with it. Luckily, he stopped you before you could further embarrass yourself.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he spoke softly as he looked up at you, tears threatening to fall.

“I was so scared, Y/N,” he sobbed.

You swiftly pulled him into your embrace, tucking his head into your neck as you began to gently stroke his hair again.

“It’s okay, let it out. I can’t imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through that but you're safe now, I promise,” you whispered to him.

“I was so afraid I was going to abandon you and Jo again. It hurt worse than the actual bullet,” he muttered into your neck.

You removed your hands from his hair and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up at you.

“Spencer Reid, you did not abandon Jo in the first place so there is no ‘again’. Second of all, you would have died a hero saving lives and I would have made sure Jo knew that and she never forgot her Daddy or how much he loved her,” you spoke earnestly, never breaking eye contact.

Spencer’s eyes softened. A second later, his lips were on yours again. This time, however, you didn’t pull away. Life was too short and this was already complicated as is, what’s the harm.

You basked in the familiarity of his lips locking with yours. Once he finally pulled away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Go out with me. A real date. No more college dorm dates with takeout,” he smiled.

“You know you didn’t have to get shot to ask me out, right?” you teased.

“I thought I needed a grand gesture,” he beamed, chucking lightly.

“Yeah, Spence, I’ll go on a date with you.”

His lips found yours once again.

-

“Jo, are you ready?” you called out from the kitchen, packing snacks.

“Mommy, I’m already at the door!” she exclaimed.

Jo was eager to go see her Daddy at the hospital. You would spend the day there until he was discharged and then he would live with you guys for the week. You insisted on being there to take care of him while he was healing. You didn’t want him hobbling around all alone in his apartment.

When you walked out to the front entryway, there was a stack of various toys and books that hadn’t been there when you came down the stairs.

“What is this?” you gestured to the pile, amused.

“Daddy has big boo-boo so he needs stuff to cheer him up,” she stated.

“I don’t think we are going to be able to bring all this. Plus, remember Daddy is coming home with us later today. So here’s what we will do,” you handed Jo her dinosaur backpack, “You pack all the stuff you can fit in this bag that you think Daddy needs right away and the rest of the stuff can wait.”

Jo made quick work of sorting through her massive pile, trying to decide what would make her dad the most happy.

-

“Daddy!” Jo excitedly screamed, running towards the bed.

“Jo!” he returned with the same sentiment.

She was unable to get up on the bed herself so you had to lift her up.

“Remember what I said, careful with Daddy or he won’t get better,” you reminded her.

“You can sit her on my good leg,” Spencer patted his right thigh where you gently set Jo down.

“We brought you loads of stuff, Daddy,” Jo chirped, looking over at you.

You revealed a box of donuts from your bag and the coffee tray you had been holding. You handed him a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles and Jo a strawberry frosted with sprinkles. The two ‘cheers’ed their donuts before biting into them.

“Jo also brought you some things to cheer you up,” you handed her her backpack.

First, she promptly pulled out a pink Disney princesses band-aid and stuck it on Spencer’s already bandaged thigh.

“You need that so it doesn’t get infected,” she repeated Spencer’s words from when she fell at Rossi’s dinner party.

“Thank you, princess. What would I do without you?” he kissed the top of her head as she rummaged around in her backpack some more.

She set up her five favorite dinosaur toys on his tray table in front of them, glancing up at him for approval.

“Perfect,” he smiled, nodding.

Next, she pulled out a piece of paper that had been colored on.

“Who’s this?” Spencer asked, looking at the three stick figures doodled on the paper.

“That’s you, that’s Mommy, and that’s me,” she pointed to each of the sketches.

“Aw, that one is definitely making the fridge,” you smiled.

Finally, Jo took out her Magic Tree House book that she was currently reading. She needed help with some of the words but either you or Spencer or the both of you would help her read it every night.

“You already finished the last one?” Spencer picked up the new book that was next in the series, examining it and smiling proudly.

“And I didn’t need help with a single word on the last chapter,” Jo beamed.

“You’re so smart,” Spencer kissed her head again, “let’s see how far we can get on this one before we can go home.”

[buckys-black-dress]

inked

a/n: here she is!!! while i work on afl, here is my crackfic on tattoo artist bucky!! if u haven’t caught on yet, most of my writing is au’s because of all the possibilites in terms of scenarios and storylines. anyways, i hope you enjoy, lovies!!! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.8k 

[tattoo artist!bucky x fem!reader]

-

It was like an addiction. 

Your first tattoo you got was simple. It was a dainty, small one on your wrist.

But now, it was slowly developing into a sleeve.

Not that you minded, though. Your forearm was slowly becoming filled with designs that you kept going back and getting here and there.

And at the tattoo parlor near your apartment in Brooklyn, you had become a regular at this point.

It was called B&R Tattoo Shop, and it was run by two of the kindest, but most attractive men you’ve ever met. 

You’ve come to find out after getting to know the owners, that they opened the shop a bit after they returned from their second tour in the army and wanted to settle back in their hometown.  

Steve and James were hospitable to you, especially when they first met you. Steve was the one to meet you and speak with you at first, but he handed you off to James, or Bucky as he asked you to call him, because he was the artist at their shop that specialized in more of what you were looking for in terms of style. 

As far as first tattoo conversations go, you and Bucky got to know each other pretty well in one session. The tattoo itself took less than an hour, but it felt like Bucky was... prolonging it in a way, like he wanted to keep you there longer.

As you swung open the door of the shop, you were greeted by their piercer, Natasha. 

“Hey, back for another already?” She smirks from her spot behind the desk. While she wasn’t piercing, she usually worked the front if there was no one else free.

Your first tattoo had been done by Bucky, and you instantly fell in love.

With the tattoo. 

Well, Bucky too. Just a little bit.

He was extremely soothing and eased you into the process of tattooing you. He told you when something was going to happen, and as soon as you got used to the feeling of the needle against your skin. 

The more he talked to you, the less pain you felt. It was already not that painful, but you almost forgot about it with him talking to you. When he looked up to you as he finished, you looked like a confused puppy.

“Okay, all done, doll.” Bucky looked up at you, moving to turn off his machine.

“Oh... that was fast.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, yeah, we moved pretty fast since it was a pretty small piece.” He explains, grabbing a paper towel and the anti-bacterial spray.

“Do you mind if I take a quick picture of it? I usually do, for my portfolio.” Bucky asks, inspecting the tattoo closely once again.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” You wait for him to pull out his camera, take the picture, and he comes back with a piece of plastic film in his hand.

“Okay, so this saniderm has to stay on for about three days. This is how it’ll heal, and when you take it off just wash it up with a gentle soap and use a cream without any fragrance or any of that crap. I can give you a little of that spray if you wanna use it to clean it up if you ever feel like it’s dirty.” Bucky explains, giving you a mini bottle of the antibacterial spray.

“Thank you,” you say, moving to sit up in the chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just about $40.” Bucky says without eye contact, heading to the computer at the front counter.

“$40? That’s it? When I signed the waiver it said the shop minimum was $75...?” You wonder out loud.

“Let’s just say you get a special discount, doll.” He smirks, typing something into the computer and only sparing you a glance.

“O-Oh. Alright.” You say sheepishly, handing him your credit card.

“Okay, you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He tells you with a gentle smile. It really contrasted his aura; a big, beefy guy with a metal prosthetic arm, covered in probably hundreds of tattoos. But here he was, smiling like sunshine.

“I think I will be. Have a nice day, Bucky.” 

“You too, sweetheart.” He gives you that smirk again, making you feel like you might actually pass out. And not because you just had a needle jabbed into your skin for almost an hour.

“Uh, I already talked to Bucky for my session today. I know I’m a bit early, I can wait if he’s still working on someone else.” You tell Natasha with a smile.

“Sure, let me get you your waiver.” She says, and you plop down into one of the chairs at the front and pulling out your book to pass time after filling out the form.

After a few minutes, Bucky emerges with a girl from his little tattooing corner.

You hear his voice first, looking up from the book while he talks to her.

“Okay, since this was your first piece and pretty small, I’ll only charge ya $55 for it, doll.” Bucky tells the girl with a smile, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest.

You didn’t want to say you were jealous, but goddamn it, your breathing became just a little more shallow at the sight you were currently witnessing.

Even Natasha and Steve turned their heads to him, confused looks on both of their faces.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here! C’mon back, I’m sure Nat already set you up with your waiver.” You nod, not saying a word as you follow him to the familiar chair.

“So, are we still doing what we discussed on the phone?” Bucky asks, setting up his area to tattoo you.

“Actually, I was thinking something different.” You say sharply.

“Different?” The shock is evident on his features. 

“Yeah. Different. Just want a little something on my collarbone.” You say, sitting down. 

“O-Okay... what were you thinking of?” He asks, pulling out his sketchbook.

“I want an olive branch, going from here to here.” You show him where you want it to start and end. It was a bit of a stretch right across the left side of your chest. “Something simple and minimal. I’ve been thinking of starting the top of my sleeve, this might be a good way to transition into it.” You say nonchalantly.

“Uhm... alright. How does this look?” Bucky asks, showing you his sketch. “I would, of course, add more detail to your liking, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, I want some more shading, please.” You say shortly. You honestly weren’t trying to be mean, but you were irritated.

But in the end, you really had no right to be. 

After almost ten sessions with Bucky, he hasn’t made any indication that he likes you the way you like him.

Sure, he calls you pet names, but he does that to everyone. Even discounts. You weren’t special. He was just being nice and doing his job.

So honestly, you had to cut the act here.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Are you saving the other design for our next session?” Bucky asks, growing more and more concerned with your odd behavior. Usually you would talk to him about your day, how work was, really anything. 

“I don’t know. I think I might ask Steve to do that one instead.” You say out of spite, more than anything. You would never take a design that Bucky made specially for you to another person to tattoo on you, even if it was his own business partner.

“Wha- Why? Did I do something? You’ve been acting really weird today...” Bucky questions you carefully. “Talk to me, doll. Did you have a bad day at work?”

But that, that right there, was your breaking point. Doll. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” You huff, laying down after nodding to the sketch that Bucky drew out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed even further, but didn’t ask any more questions. He laid down the stencil and asked if the placement was alright. You looked in the mirror he handed you and nodded briefly. 

The entire time Bucky had the machine in his hand, neither of you spoke a word. He tried to make brief conversation, but you only responded with a hum or nod. 

When he finally finished up, you got up and headed to the counter without a word after looking at the finished tattoo in the mirror. 

Your face was blank, emotionless, and Bucky was truly lost. 

After you paid the full price of your piece, you walked out of the shop, not even sparing anyone a glance. 

Once you left, the shop was dead silent. Everyone either just finished up with a client or didn’t have any at the moment, and the shop was blanketed in an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam’s voice broke the silence, making Bucky’s head snap towards him. 

“I-I... I have no idea. She was acting so...so weird today.” Bucky looked more confused than ever.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Natasha’s voice cuts through the palpable silence.

“Wh- What the hell did I do? I asked her too, and she didn’t give me an answer...” Bucky mumbles.

“Do you like her?” She fires back with a fire in her eyes.

“W-Well, yeah. She’s a regular.” Bucky answers, looking at his fiddling hands.

“Not like that, you dunce. You know what I mean, don’t act dumb.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

Bucky sighs, not making eye contact yet again.

“I-... I do like her.” He says. “But I don’t think she feels the same.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ... You really are a dumbass.” Sam sighs out.

Steve snorts at his words, nodding in agreement.

“Buck, she got jealous.” He explains, shaking his head at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“J-Jealous? Of what?” Bucky scoffs in shock.

“That girl you had right before her. Gave her a discount, called her pet names. The whole shabang.” Natasha points out to him. “Also, you gotta stop giving out discounts like that. You’ll lose more money than you’re makin’.” Natasha scoffs. 

“Wh- But... She never said anything...?” Bucky thinks back to all the times you’ve sat in his chair. You never made any indication that you were outwardly interested in him.

“I think she said enough today without actually saying much.” Steve laughs. His friend was a real idiot.

“I... But, why didn’t she say anything before?” Bucky asked.

“Buck, you never said anything either. I guess that when she heard you talk to that girl like that, she thought you really didn’t like her like that at all. You treated that girl the same way you treat her.” Natasha explains to Bucky, who had a look of realization on his face.

“But... I was just... being nice...” He says with his head in his hands. 

“Well, now she thinks you do that with all you clients, so...” Sam says, making the brunet’s head shoot up.

“Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up everything!” He exclaims. “I-I do like her!” 

“Well, don’t tell us that, tell her!” Sam shouts back to him, and before Bucky can process, he’s pulling out his phone and dialing your phone number.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up,” He mumbles repeatedly, but the call goes to voicemail. “Fuck.”

“Not pickin’ up?” Steve questions, coming to the front and picking up the shop phone. “Gimme her number, she’s doesn’t have to shop saved to her phone, right?” 

“No, I don’t think she does.” Bucky says, watching as Steve dials your number.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds annoyed as it filters through the phone. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh, Y/N! Hi!” Steve speaks, looking at Bucky in a panic, his facial expression screaming, ‘talk to her!’ 

“Steve? What’s up?” You ask, wondering what he needed. 

“You uhh... you forgot your book here!” He blurts out, trying to find an excuse, but quickly found one upon seeing your book resting on the seat where you were waiting. 

“O-Oh... I guess I’ll just turn around. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks, Steve.” You say, ready to hang up.

“O-Okay. Bye, Y/N.” He clears his throat, hanging up. “You have like, ten minutes to get your shit together and talk to her when she gets here. Good luck.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder, ready to haul Natasha and Sam to the back to give you two some privacy.

Bucky thought that this was the longest ten minutes of his life, and he was trying to conjure up a speech in his head to confess to you.

Finally, when you did appear through the doors, you looked lost. You only saw Bucky, which made you even more aggravated from the fact that you had to turn back around.

You were ready to head home and wallow in peace, but alas, you wanted your book. 

Bucky just watched as you picked up the book from his grasp across the desk, your eyes not meeting his while he kept his gaze on you very intently. 

Just as you turned around to leave, Bucky’s voice cut through the unbearable silence.

“Y/N?” He simply asks, and you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs at the sound of his small voice. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew and... loved.

“Yes, James?” You simply respond, and Bucky cringes at the sound of his first name being used. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“...Why? Is everything alright?” And although your voice didn’t give it away, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Any possible scenario popped into your head. He has a girlfriend. He’s gonna tell you he doesn’t wanna see you anymore. He-

“E-Everything’s fine, doll. Just wanted to tell you that... That I...” Bucky’s voice sounded strained, like there was something caught in his throat.

“Bucky, just spit it out.” You say, wanting to leave already.

“It’s just- I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry for earlier with that other client. I was just trying to be nice, but I realized how that looked to you, and I never thought anything of it because I didn’t know if you liked me back or-” Bucky was rambling, and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“Bucky, Bucky stop. Let me talk before you drive your own head in with conclusions,” you say, resting your hand on top of his on the desk.

“I like you a lot, too. I didn’t think you like me either because of that girl before me. You just- you treated her the same way you treated me, and I got jealous. I know I didn’t have the right to be, but it just made me think that... that you didn’t feel the same way about me, that I was just another client to you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, and also for being kind of a bitch to you...” Now you were the one rambling, your hands flying all over the place in explanation.

“D-Doll, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you before, before I almost blew everything with you that we’ve been building these past months.” He says placing one large tattooed hand and one metal hand on the sides of your face. “But I’m not gonna miss my chance again. Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I-I would love to, Bucky. Took you long enough to ask me.” You giggle, holding onto the hands on your face.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an idiot, if you haven’t already noticed.” He laughs, gazing into your eyes with a look that almost turned you to mush in his hands. 

“Do... do ya wanna go now?” You ask, nodding your head to the door.

“Sure, let me go grab my jacket from the back.” He tells you, and you nod, watching as he keeps his eyes on you until he disappears to the back.

“My man, who would’ve thought you’d finally man up?” Sam ridicules him as soon as Bucky appears.

“Dude, shut up. I got a date to get to, see you losers later.” He rolls his eyes, moving back out where you’re smiling at him.

“Ready, angel?” Bucky asks, slipping his hand into yours.

“Ready, handsome.” You reply, and as soon as you step out into the fall air, you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Where to, lover boy?”

[justcourttee]

Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet

Bittersweet

It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.

He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.

Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.

Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.

Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.

He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.

She was early.

The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.

He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.

Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.

“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”

His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.

“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”

Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.

“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”

Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.

“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.

“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”

“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.

Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.

“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.

She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.

It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.

“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”

His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.

“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”

She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.

“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.

It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.

She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.

He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?

Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”

His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?

“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”

Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.

“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”

He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?

Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.

“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”

She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.

“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.

“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”

He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.

“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.

He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.

“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”

Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”

He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.

“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.

“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”

He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.

Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.

“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So you came?”

Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.

“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”

The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.

“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.

There was no denying it.

Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.

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[mcyt-imagines]

hi hi ! first off, just a tip if you'd like more requests/asks in general you should prob turn on anon since this is like the only time i've sent a non-anon ask. but anyways, i'm assuming requests are open and i'd like to ask if you would write either just ranboo fluff in general or something like the tommy confession headcanons but w ranboo :D what you've posted so far is great <3

Thank you so much for letting me know! I thought I had anon turned on already, but it’s 100% turned on now! Regarding your request I got a little carried away and wrote both some general fluff and some confession headcanons for Ranboo so this post is a little long... Hope you enjoy! :D

(It’s important to note that these headcanons are a combination of ones pertaining to his Minecraft character in the dsmp and him outside of the dsmp roleplay!)

General Ranboo Fluff

- Dreamsmp Ranboo -

The first time Ranboo cries in front of you is when you confess to him and he is so happy and relieved that you reciprocate his feelings. He even smiles through the pain of his tears as you panic to cover the skin beneath his eyes, so your hands catch his tears to stop the pain.

Ranboo likes to ask if you need any resources from time to time and once you finally give in and answer, he spends the rest of his day trying to collect as much of it as he can. This has led to a few incidents in which you came back to your shared indent in the snowy mountain to find a chest stacked full with polished stone and countless ores. You’ve scolded him but the way he responds with big puppy dog eyes wishing to “just be helpful.” Sets the butterflies caged in your chest free every damn time.

Ranboo in addition to asking you for want you want he is also very observant in noticing what you need. Any tools close to breaking? Brilliant, he’s already got three more of the same tools ready for you to grab when you need it. He also names them using the anvil to some silly super cheesy pet names.

One of his favourite things to do with you is stargaze. You both travel to the top of your snowy mountain and clear out a space free of snow to lie down and simply hold each other. Ranboo has started asking Techno (on the nights you are away) to point out the stars and tell him their corresponding stories. He happily relays all of this information to you in exaggerated detail, looking at you in awe as your expressions change with the twinkling lights above.

Ranboo almost always carries a little umbrella around with him in case it begins to rain. Most of his friends notice and all start to buy him some. He now has a full collection that line his wall just next to the door. It’s those small things that allows him to remember who his real friends are.

Ranboo LOVES having his hair played with. He will fall asleep within minutes of you beginning to tousle his hair as he rests his head in your lap. He may make soft enderman noises, but you don’t dare tell him. Content on keeping that little secret to yourself.

Ranboo has to be kinda careful around snow considering that if it melts it will hurt him. Meaning he has to sit out on any snowball fights that occur. And they occur more frequently than you would think. It usually starts with Phil throwing a rogue snowball at Techno when Phil notices him slumping his shoulders. Which means it doesn’t take long until it’s a full-blown war. You usually find yourself smack bang in the middle of it and have to dive down to avoid getting pummelled in the crossfire. Ranboo will call you over to hide behind Techno’s house. As the onslaught continues between the two. you giggle and commentate over the fierce battle together.

- Outside of Dreamsmp Ranboo - 

Ranboo enjoys watching you whenever you are focused on something. He’s incredibly observant and finds himself mimicking the small little nuances he sees you exhibit. He gets incredibly flustered whenever you notice that he’s picked up on them, but he doesn’t bother to deny it.

Ranboo finds himself staring at you a lot. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it. You catch him frequently, “Watching me real closely, hm?” He tries to stutter out an answer to defend himself, but you just smile and tell him it’s okay.

Ranboo finds a lot of comfort in doing ‘domestic’ activities with you. However, one of his personal favourites is when the two of you go out to get groceries together. His mum will give him a small list and he’ll try his best to dawdle around the store whilst swinging your intertwined hands to make the visit as long as possible. It makes him think of a future in which the two of you get to do this every single week and that alone warms his heart.

Ranboo always has to be near you, he doesn’t have to be physically touching you but he prefers to just be stupidly close to you. It always makes you laugh when he sits just close enough to you that you don’t touch, so now he has to do it forever.

Your laugh is one of his favourite sounds. To the point that if you giggle or laugh at something, he will just keep doing it over and over again for as long as you keep laughing at it. Which eventually leads to the both of you red-faced and gasping for air.

Ranboo is a terrible cook. But he tries so hard to follow recipes and they always flop. He also for some reason, cannot attempt cooking without making an utter mess of himself. Whether it’s spilling flour all over himself, getting egg yolk splatter somehow in his hair or just spilling copious amounts of milk on the floor so that he slips. This boy is a walking, talking kitchen DISASTER. So now he can only cook with you supervising him. Which turns out, wasn’t as much of a punishment as it should have been. As your tutelage seems to have slightly improved his cooking skills. However, now you also get flour spilt all over you as well.

Ranboo Confession Headcanons

- Realising he likes you - 

Ranboo denies he has feelings for you at first. Believing that you’re just a good friend whose company he really enjoys. But the more he focuses on your friendship the quicker he realises he would prefer if you were more to him than that.

This thought alone sends him into a little bit of a spiral for a few days. Grappling with the thought of rejection and the guilt he would feel if he ever hurt you.

He spends most of the time grappling with his feelings he continues to try and act as normal as possible around you. You finding out would be his worst nightmare.

Ranboo realises he has absolutely no history in the dating department and desperately needs some guidance. He may ask Phil on a whim who would try his best to give the poor panicked boy some words of wisdom. Ranboo takes the advice to heart immediately, promising Phil he will update him on how his feelings for you turn out.

Ranboo finds himself writing about you in one of his many journals. He finds putting words on the page seems to help clear his mind. He tries to script his confession a few times. Desperately floundering to find the right words, but he always seems to fall short. He usually ends up scribbling all over those pages until you can barely tell someone had even written on them. Hoping to somehow erase the thoughts in the process.  

He even tries drawing you a few times when he finds himself with enough spare time. He doesn’t think they’re any good though. Sure, the sketches look like you, but they don’t make him feel the way you do. When he looks at the page his chest doesn’t tighten because of your beauty, but instead because of the way you’ve made him feel. Which he comes to the sad conclusion is something he simply cannot capture in his words or his drawings. He has to show it through his actions. Not exactly his strong suit. But he’s determined to do right by you. So, he devises a plan.

- Confessing to you - 

This boy plans the whole day down to a t, he has multiple back-up plans just in case his first one falls short.

Ranboo invites you over for lunch. Arriving at his place you notice how clean it is. He spent the last few days cleaning it top to bottom.

You spend a few minutes in the house chatting. You notice Ranboo is on edge almost immediately. Shoulders a pinch too tight, his smiles a little too wide and none of them reach his eyes.

You ask what you’re going to be having for lunch and he reveals a wicker basket from his kitchen. “A picnic!” Your heart warms, “I would’ve brought something if you’d told me beforehand.” He smiles at that, “Exactly. I even cooked without you, you should be proud.” 

He shuffles on his feet a little, wishing to be praised, “We’ll see how the food tastes first, maybe then I’ll tell you how proud I am.” You tease, moving to elbow him lightly. You notice the way his face flushes as you move into his space. His mother appears from upstairs, “Are you two leaving? I could drive you, y’know!” “No thanks mom!!” He is quick to grab your hand and practically drag you out of the house and away from his all knowing mom.

The bus ride is on the longer side and you find yourself feeling brave enough to scoot a little closer to Ranboo. “Hey, is it okay if I?” You gesture between your head and his shoulder, the cute, shocked expression he sends you causes you to grin. “Uh s-sure!” 

You softly press your head against his shoulder, “Thanks, pretty comfy shoulder you got here should’ve asked you to share it sooner.” You tease, nuzzling his shoulder lightly just for a reaction. And you get one alright, his skin goes such a lovely shade of red all the way up to the tips of his ears. You giggle softly, trying your best to hold it in and failing miserably.

You even manage to fall asleep despite your own heartbeat quickening at Ranboo’s closeness. You are tapped awake by him, “Hmm?” You rub one of your eyes knowingly appearing adorable and the way he looks at you makes it all worth it. “It’s our stop soon, we gotta get up.” 

You nod and lazily stand and he follows suit. Only for the bus to brake abruptly, promptly shoving you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you quickly to steady you whilst you desperately cling to the wicker basket, “You okay?” You both mumble to each other before laughing it off and nodding. “Oh crap.” Ranboo grabs your free hand and you both scramble to get to the front of the bus to hop off. Sparks fly up your arm at the extended contact, even as you jump off the bus.

Ranboo happily leads you to a spot he had picked out earlier in the month. A soft patch of grass below a large willow tree that now sways softly in the warm breeze. You set up your carefully packaged feast with haste now that your stomachs are grumbling.

Ranboo forcefully tries to make himself relax knowing you’ve probably noticed his tense state by now. But you choose not to push him on it, taking an educated guess on why he’s so stressed.

You are quick to compliment his cooking skills when he divvies out a freshly baked quiche.  Even though you know his mom for sure did most of the work. It’s the thought that counts. You hope that may snap him out of the stupor he seems to be in. However, no such luck.

“Hey Ranboo, do you want to talk about something?” Ranboo goes into full panic mode. He did not have a plan for you asking something like this. He thought you weren’t confrontational!! You watch as his expression changes rapidly. You look away, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay. I just thought you might want to-“ 

He takes one of your hands in his. Why is he doing this??? This isn’t part of the plan at all! “I…” His throat goes dry. All those hours obsessing over what he was going to say to you are sent out the window when he finally meets your eyes.

“I think I like you.” He hasn’t realised he’s even said it until its waaaaaay too late. Your eyes widen, you didn’t think he’d actually admit it to you. You squeeze his hand as you watch his eyes seem to lose focus, “I like you too.” He is silent for several long moments until he starts blinking rapidly, “Huh!?” The look of utter surprise on his face causes you to burst out laughing.

“Wait, wait, wait you’re serious?” He grabs your arm as a grin slowly starts to creep onto his face. “Sure am.” And as you meet his gaze you realise that his grin actually reached his eyes, for the first time in a long while. 

“So, you gonna kiss me now or what?” You tease as his face shines a dark red. “W-well I, uh-“ His stuttering only allows for you to sneak closer and press a firm kiss to his cheek. Somehow, he grows even redder and you sigh pleasantly. “My heart definitely made the right choice with you Ranboo.”

Meanwhile Ranboo is too busy freaking out over the fact that you weren’t even meant to find out he liked you until you were stargazing together later tonight. His plans are utterly ruined! But as you squeeze his hand again to bring his thoughts back into the present, he wonders that perhaps spontaneity isn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

~My ask box is always open if you’ve got any requests or just want to vent about the dreamsmp lore!~

[borkthemork]

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended. 

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[kiddolm]

Priority Herbert West X Reader

Summary: After so much neglect from a certain sciency boyfriend, can you do it anymore?

Warnings: AFAB, slight cursing, slight hint of NSFW

Word Count: 2,099

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

He's down in the basement. Again. Like always. Somehow he's managed to spend more time in that dungeon than usual, and it's killing you.

Astonishingly, you managed to get close enough to make the twink your boyfriend in the first place. Back then, he wasn't this closed off. He actually tried to put in an effort into the relationship. But now, here you were, missing the brief kisses he'd give you on the cheek while he momentarily came upstairs. When he'd take small breaks to come to eat, and you would have conversations about something other than his reagent. When he'd finally come upstairs to take the shortest nap ever but would latch on to you like he'd lose you if he let go. Where did all of that go?

You shuffle down the stairs into his makeshift laboratory, fumbling with the hem of your sweater. Was it normal to be nervous to ask your boyfriend a simple question? Probably not, but here you are shaking like you just got off a rollercoaster, merely to ask him if he wanted to go out to eat with you and Dan.

"H-hey, Herbie,"

"-don't call me that."

"Alrighty," you whisper under your breath. Here we go. "Do you want to go out to eat with Dan and me? It might be good to get a little break, and a breath of fresh air might be good for you."

"It's outlandish how you still come down here to ask me these futile questions. I thought you would've learned by now that I don't have time for such useless activities," Herbert mutters.

You deflate, not knowing whether to keep pushing or to let it go.

"Ok," you sigh; he's right. You have learned, and you're tired of it. You're through with the emotional abuse he's been giving. Day after day, you somehow got the motivation to keep going back down, and every single time you got rejected. You're moving out until he figures out what he wants.

Charging back up the stairs, you rush into your shared bedroom and throw a jet-black suitcase on the bed. While you shove God knows what into your bag, you take a look around your room. Before you had moved in, it had been dull, with one or two human anatomy posters hanging up on the wall and a mini-fridge for his reagent. Now it has a bit more life thanks to you. Or now, I guess you should say had.

Dan comes into the room behind you with a puzzled look on his face. He looks around the room and at the clothes and decor that's thrown into your suitcase.

"Uhm, (Y/N), we're just going out to eat."

"I'm moving out. At least for a little bit. Just until Herbert figures out if he wants me in his life or not," you huff, throwing clothes recklessly into your bag.

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Dan objected, pushing past you to stop you from packing. "What happened down there?"

You let out a sigh of defeat and slump down on the edge of your bed, putting your head into your hands.

"I've tried Dan. I have, but Herbert doesn't care about me anymore. He- He's lost feelings or something! We haven't had a real conversation in a week, and- and I can't keep putting in any effort if he's not putting in any in return."

Dan sits down next to you and puts an arm around your shoulder in the hope to slightly relax you. He's always had a unique talent for that when you'd either get freaked out from work or another one of Herbert's experiments.

"I'm sorry you feel like that (Y/N). Really. He's an idiot for not appreciating you. Hell! If Meg weren't in my life, I'd probably be after you. Not- not in a weird way," he says, stuttering through the last part, making you laugh.

"It's not on you, Dan, and thank you. I'm still leaving for a while," you say, looking down at the floor. "I think I just need to be away from here for a while, ya' know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Listen, I'll help you pack and- wait. Where are you staying?"

"I was planning on just staying at a motel for a while."

"(Y/N), come on. You won't be able to live like that!"

"It's just until I figure things out with Herbert. Besides, I can't keep living like this either."

"Alright, that's fair. What all are you taking," Dan asks, standing up and begins to fold the clothes you sloppily threw in your suitcase.

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

Herbert wanders up the stairs and into his -or better yet, your- bedroom. Except it doesn't look like it belongs to you anymore. Quite a few of your things are missing, and your keys and purse are gone. It's almost like you never had even lived there in the first place.

He sleepily stumbles into the kitchen, looking for you. His eyes dart around the room to find your bright smile that would usually light up the room. He spots Dan instead.

"Where's (Y/N)," he groans, pouring himself a glass of coffee like it wasn't already 8 P.M.

"Why do you care?" Dan scoffs. An obvious annoyance is radiating off of him.

Dan's sudden outburst catches Herbert off guard. What's that supposed to mean? Suddenly Herbert isn't so tired anymore, and it's not just because of the coffee he seemed to inhale.

"None of her stuff is in the room. She didn't tell me she was going anywhere besides out to eat with you," Herbert says, furrowing his brows together to try and recall if you said anything else earlier.

"She moved out," dan responds bluntly with irritation sketched into his face.

"What do you mean?"

"For someone always boasting about being smarter than everyone else, you sure are acting like a dumbass right now." Dan couldn't lie; it was nice having the upper hand with Herbert. But this time didn't seem so fun. The paranoia that was evident on Herbert's features was concerning.

"Where is she?"

"She told me no to tell you."

"When?"

"She left about three hours ago. Herbert, will you-"

"Why?"

That's Herbert's last question. It's filled with an emotion Dan can't put his finger on. Herbert doesn't show much emotion, so when he does, it's alarming. More alarming than his inhuman lack of emotion.

''I'm gonna let you figure that one out," Dan replies dryly, continuing his homework and trying his best to not give in to Herbert's pleas.

As much as Herbert hated to admit that he needed anything other than science, he came to a quick conclusion in his head that he needs you. One of the classic 'You don't realize what you have until it's gone' situations.

"Dan," Herbert pleaded, dragging out the 'A' in his name, "I need to know where she is."

"What are you going to say to her? You don't even know why she's upset," Dan exclaims.

"You could tell me why."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because we're friends, Dan! Do you want to lose (Y/N)?"

"I won't lose her. I treat her like she's important to me."

"Is- is that why she's upset," he pauses, contemplating Dan's words for a moment. "Does she not think she's important to me?"

"Think about it. When was the last time you actually took a break from your work and just spent time alone? When was the last time you've given (Y/N) your attention?"

"My work is one of my top priorities! She knows that, Dan. She knew it when we first got into a relationship. That can't be it!"

"Can't it? She knows that your work is a priority, but she wants you to treat her like she's at least one of your priorities. Good God, man."

For the first time in his life, Herbert was at a complete loss for words. The silence was almost foreign.

"Where is she, Dan?"

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

You've been staying at this dingy Motel 8 for the past week, and while it wasn't the greatest thing ever, it was better than having to put up with being constantly rejected by your boyfriend. It's time to go back and face your problems, though.

While running away was nice for a little while, the constant state of wondering whether Herbert still wanted you or not was trying.

Sure his work is a priority, but so are you. If he can't see that, then it's his loss. Well, that's what you want to say. Honestly, you don't want to lose him. He can be cold at times, but when he's not, you feel on cloud 9. It's cliche to say you've never loved anyone like you love Herbert, but it's true. When he gives you his attention, you swear you're the only person alive. He's very passionate when it comes to love. Even if things did have to end, he always holds a special place in your heart. Every memory of him will be constant in your mind, even the bad ones. You just hoped he still loves you all the same.

Pulling up to the house gives you a tense feeling, and you haven't even gotten out of your car. You feel the drama before it even has the chance to happen.

With shaky hands, you knock at the door. The worst outcomes fill your head, one being that Herbert gave up on what you both had and ends things without another word.

All of those thoughts evaporate when the door is flung open, and you get the wind knocked out of you by Herbert, who comes out and practically tackles you. His arms wrap around your lower waist, and his head nuzzles into the side of your hair, taking in your scent.

You stand still, unable to comprehend that your once very emotionless boyfriend is showing endearment. It feels so unfamiliar.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the side of your neck, in between the small kisses he's been peppering all over you.

You're stunned. What happened to your Herbert? Who is this?!

He takes a step back and looks at you; his eyes are glazed over with a pleading haze. "Don't leave."

He looks pitiful.

Part of you wonders what changed. Did Dan talk to him? Did he come to this realization by himself? Whatever happened that changed his mind, did it even matter?

"You have to promise me, Herbert, that you'll start to treat me better. I can't keep being the only one putting any effort in," you whisper. Your voice starts to shake, and you know if you speak any louder, it'll break.

He can only nod his head as he pulls you back into the comfort of his arms. You lift your head and place a passionate kiss on his lips as he grabs your waist tight enough to leave bruises. Without breaking the kiss, he drags you back into the house, towards his room. The sounds that the both of you make are ungodly.

Who knows if Dan just saw the mess of two people stumbling around his house.

Things get heated as clothes start to disappear from both of your bodies. His hands wander over every inch of skin that he missed while you were gone. He zones in, leaving marks on your neck to reclaim you as his. As things escalate, he slowly but surely makes you understand that you're the most significant thing in his life; his sole purpose of the night is to pleasure you.

In the morning, you're stuck together, unable to tell where you start, and Herbert ends. You wake up first admiring him. It was nice just being able to stare at him for the first time in ages. You trace imaginary circles over his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels like home.

As soon Herbert wakes up, he pecks you on the nose and moves some hair out of your face muttering a few 'I love yous' as he gets up and gets dressed to start back on his work.

You're aware this kind of affection isn't something you should be getting used to, but you can't help it. When Herbert treats you like that, you wish it'd last forever. Secretly, he does too.

Later, when Dan asks what had happened between the two of you, Herbert denies everything, too worried about his pride. Once he was down in the basement, though, you fill Dan in on everything assuring him it's all back to normal. And it really is. Your Herbert is back.

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

[a-snow-decahedron]

alphys and flowey, with 22!

I'm so sorry for taking so long. Here we go. 22: books (from this prompt list)

This is for Alphys week! -> Day 6: Flowers

(who said it had to be several flowers?)

Crumpled Paper

Words: 1300

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33809740

The first time he met the royal scientist, it had been during a visit she made to the castle, a day after he had emerged in his fath- Asgore's garden, crying out for help for the first time. She carried a bag, which she dropped the moment the king informed her of his finding. She examined him, checking on his magic levels, and as she worked, her face could barely hide her worries. Through stuttering words Dr. Alphys gave her report: she said he had no SOUL, but besides the fact, he seemed fine. She came by every few days to check his stats, apologizing profusely every time. What for? She couldn't explain herself without stumbling on her words, but he got something about an experiment. But it would be fine, she assured him!

He wasn't fine, he couldn't feel, no matter how much he tried. He was not the same and it wasn't worth it to keep trying.

But then he discovered the real power behind determination. Curiosity led him to various places, and soon he found himself outside of the scientist's laboratory. She hid something, and he was determined to find out.

* * *

"Howdy!"

Alphys was startled by the sudden voice. She was back from a trip to the dump, holding a bag full of cans and metallic wastes. At this time of the day, she didn't expect to find anyone outside the lab.

A flower stood by the door, giving her a toothy smile.

"Howdy, doctor! Have we met before?" The flower snickered and winked, as if there was an inside joke she didn't get.

She recognized the kind of flower on sight, after all, she had worked with them during the last weeks. But just like her other experiments, it seemed determination didn't have the expected effects. She rememebered taking the vessels back to the garden and...

Oh no.

Not THIS too.

She tried forming a sentence. But what could she say? She felt herself start sweating, her breathing getting faster. She swallowed and managed to say "We do not know each o- but you said that we do..." She decided to set for a question. "Do you want to... come in?"

The flower's expression was blank for a moment as if considering his options, then he smiled. "Sure! Get me inside!" Alphys sighed in relief. This shouldn't be difficult, right? They could just... take their time to talk.

After some arrangements, she managed to fit the flower in her bag to carry him and set him in her workbench. His small black eyes examined the room, eagerly looking for something. What it was, Alphys couldn't tell.

She was filled with questions of her own. Dozens of theories were running in her head, but she feared the flower wouldnt be able to answer them. She watched him as he tried to pick up one of the books resting on her desk. They were too heavy to lift.

"Do you... want my help?" She held the book for him, which had a winged hero on the cover. She opened it on a random page, so they could both look at the drawings.

"What does it say?" He pointed at one of the speech bubbles.

"What?" Alphys was distracted looking at the pose one of the main characters, a human with human ears, was making.

"On the book. The handwriting's weird."

"Oh that... I'm not sure. It seems it's a human language, but it's not like the one we speak. I think it's called Japanese. It comes from the land where they make cool things like anime and..." She started going through the list of every little fact she learnt about the land through her TV shows, but the flower interrupted her.

"Why do you have a book you can't read?"

"It's called manga." She was quick to correct. "I'm learning how to read and write! I've been looking for books in the dump that can teach you how."

"Is that what you do as a sicentist?" He raised an eyebrow, which was as white as the rest of his face.

"N-no, but it's something... I do sometimes, when I have the time."

"Cool! Can you teach me?"

"To read Japanese?"

"No, I'll pass, it sounds complicated. My sibling would have liked it. They are such a nerd, always saying weird words."

Would that mean...? Oh no, one animated flower is a thing but more? Alphys would be screwed.

The flower opened his eyes wide at his words and he stuck his tongue out in thoguht, as if he was solving a mental puzzle. Alphys waited, was it the right move to ask questions? Would it scare the flower?

"Ah, my tongue slipped. I guess I'll have to tell you. But later, OK?" A part of Alphys wanted to turn to dust right there, a different part wanted to spit out every question that crossed her mind, but the saner part of her decided it was best to play along. Anything to make this less awkward.

The flower found a solution sooner than her. "Why don't you... teach me how to write? I don't know if I can." He looked down at his vines.

"Yeah, sure. let me grab some paper and pencils." Alphys felt the tension dissipate as they changed topics.

"Do you have color pencils too?"

"Uhm, we'll see what I can get."

Alphys found a box of pencils next to her computer, on top of a pile of paper detailing her blueprint ideas, a few scratched projects and a personal story she was working on. Her handwriting made her the least suitable for the job, but the flower was content with her lessons. They chatted about mundane topics, forgetting their situation for a moment. He was reluctant to tell her his name, and never mentioned the "sibling" again, but both of them seemed at ease.

"Do you wanna... stay here tonight? Or do you need to go to the garden?" He considered his options, then shook his head. Alphys leaned to look at the paper, it seemed her friend grew tired of writing and made a drawing. "What's that?"

"It's me! Well, not me me, but my cooler form!" It showed a winged godlike creature, shooting stars out of his hands. He was surrounded by a rainbow cloud.

"Oh! You drew inspiration from the manga I showed you?"

"Maybe? But this is way better!" He was grinning, proud of his successful creation. It took him some time to get used to grabbing pencils with his vines. Even though he couldn't make small things, his grasp was good enough to make a rough sketch.

"I like it! Give it a name!"

"What would they name it... " He whispered, barely audible. "Ah! I know what."

He took a black marker, and with a strange kind of handwriting and in all uppercase he wrote:

"THE ABSOLUTE GOD OF HYPERDEATH"

For the rest of the timeline, the drawing was put on the fridge with a magnet. He didn't get much information about the scientist that night, and saw less of her with every passing day

When he found out why, he reset. Many timelines went by. The ghost of the drawing was forgotten, but his ability to grab things stayed.

* * *

Alphys walked into the lab, putting on her labcoat over her dress. Her day was eventful, and her confession marked the start of a new time. She was feeling... better? Sure, her confidence had a long way to go, but she could handle it one thing at a time. Her smile dropped when she found a crumpled piece of paper, with a message scribbled with a black marker. It was a strange kind of handwriting, in all uppercase.

It read: "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID"

[my-robot-heart]

@fictober-event 2021 | Fandom: the blacklist - lizzington

Day 3: "I've waited for this." | Rating: T | Warnings: none

Late at night, Lizzie thought about him.

When she couldn't fall asleep, she would let her mind replay over and over the interactions they'd had. The ones where he'd slung an arm just casually enough so as to remain inauspicious across the back of a seat they'd both shared. Or when he'd lingered just seconds too long when clasping her hand, or placing a guiding hand on her back. The ones where he'd said things like, we're gonna make a great team, or just pretend you're my girlfriend from Ann Arbor.

The scenes would replay in her mind, and she'd let herself imagine them playing out differently: stopping his hand before it could leave hers, or leaning back into the arm that was slung across the back of the seat. Replying yes, sure, that sounds like fun to his challenge, and showing him that she, too, knew how to be mischievous.

Late at night, she thought about these things, and wished things were different. And knew that, if they ever were to be, it was up to her to do something. Anything.

But when the sun rose, and brought with it a new day, full of possibility, Lizzie found herself unable to conceive of what she would do if something went wrong. If she reached out to him, and he refused. In that case, she was better to just let things remain status quo; at least then she could be certain of their friendship. At least then, she knew she wouldn't have to face the what ifs.

Their next assignment was supposed to be easy. Posing as a couple on an undercover mission at a museum gala, while waiting to pounce on their Blacklister: a Renaissance art thief.

It was supposed to be easy, but from the moment she stepped out her door and into the waiting car, accepting Red's proffered hand lightly as she did so, Lizzie knew it would be anything but.

Red slid into the backseat beside her, waving to Dembe to start driving, and as he buckled his seatbelt he gave her a look that warmed her even more than the sunlight coming in through the window and playing on her skin.

"Lizzie."

"Red."

"You look... dazzling," he said, and before she could react he finished with, "the perfect foil for our plan tonight. All eyes will be on you rather than me, which means we shouldn't have to worry about my being recognized."

Typical, she thought. Undo her with a compliment and then follow it with business talk. It was maddening, because it meant she was never quite sure whether she was interpreting him correctly, or just reading into things. That they were business associates was a fact, but whether there was the possibility for something more...? Perplexing.

"You look very dapper as well," she returned. "As expected."

"Agents Mojtabai and Navabi should be there already," he commented, fiddling with one of his shirt cuffs. "We'll tap into their communication system as soon as we arrive."

Lizzie glanced over at what he was doing with his cuffs, noticing that a button had come undone and he was attempting to refasten it with his non-dominant hand. And failing quite badly, she saw.

Reaching over, she gently took his arm and made quick work of the button, tucking his cuff back into the tuxedo jacket as she did so.

Was it her imagination, or did he let out a quiet huff of breath when she let go of his arm? It was almost as if he'd been holding his breath while she fixed his cuff. She watched his expression for a sign that he was unsteady in some way, and found none.

Nevermind, Liz, she told herself sternly. Just focus on the task at hand. But, as usual in cases that involved working closely with Raymond Reddington, just focusing on the task at hand was never as easy as that.

This situation in particular: pretending to be a couple, this was going to be tough. Because it's what she was doing, what she had been doing, wasn't it? But now, now she had to both pretend to be his girlfriend and pretend that she hadn't thought about that very situation over and over until it became as familiar to her as her real life. That was the real challenge.

They arrived at the museum, and Red came around to give Lizzie a hand out of the car, easefully letting his arm slide round her waist when she stood beside him.

We're a couple. She reminded herself. He's doing this as part of the job.

Giving him a smile she hoped was bright and not wary, she walked with him into the gala.

They were immediately handed glasses of champagne. Lizzie sipped hers quickly, hoping for some fortification.

Red, maddeningly, appeared perfectly at home. The nerve of him, being able to fall into character like that every damn time.

They found themselves standing near a large triptych, and Lizzie decided they should at least appear to show interest in the artwork, so she leaned in to take a closer look.

Red leaned in as well, keeping an arm around her waist. This proved so distracting that when she noticed he had asked her a question, it was already too late, and she had to ask him to repeat himself, embarrassedly.

"I said, are you a Renaissance art fan, Lizzie?"

"It's Caroline," she whispered back, giving him the alias she was supposed to be using tonight. Just then she heard a crackling from her earpiece. Aram was listening.

"Hello Aram," she said in a low voice, wriggling free from Red's arm for a moment.

"Yes, we're in place. Okay. I'll keep watching for our guy."

"So sorry, Caroline," Red said. "Are you a Renaissance art fan, then."

"No, not really. Are you?"

"I prefer the Surrealist period, myself," he replied.

Of course he would.

The evening passed uneventfully and with no sign of their Blacklister. Lizzie was beginning to wonder if the entire thing would turn out to be a bust, when she heard Aram in her ear again.

"On your right, two o'clock."

She turned slowly, hopefully inconspicuously, in that direction. A tall man was eyeing one of the paintings. That was their guy.

She tried to nudge Red, but he was deep in conversation with another couple, regaling them with some story of his own invention.

"Ahem." She tried clearing her throat. He didn't notice.

Damn it, she would have to interrupt.

Walking right up to his side, she took Red's outstretched arm and gave him a pointed look.

"So sorry to interrupt, but-"

"Ah! Perfect timing, Caroline. May I introduce you to my enchanting girlfriend, Caroline. She's the light of my life," he announced proudly, causing Lizzie to raise an eyebrow in surprise before falling into character as best she could.

"What a pleasure to meet you all," she said with a smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to you, alone."

Red caught the emphasis and smiled at his new friends before excusing himself. He followed Lizzie to a secluded corner.

"It's our guy. Over there by the da Vinci sketches." Her eyes flicked towards him.

Red nodded.

"Yes, I know."

"You know? What do you mean, you know. We're here to apprehend him, aren't we?"

"Apprehend? Oh heavens no. We're just here to have a quick chat. And while you were grabbing a refill on your champagne, I did exactly that."

A beat passed.

"Exactly what."

"Had a quick chat. Made my negotiations, as it were. So, we're free to either leave, or spend the rest of the evening here, in pleasant company and with wonderful food. The choice is yours, Lizzie."

She stared at him.

"Alright. Let's stay."

To her delight, he looked surprised.

"What?"

"You said we can leave, or spend the rest of the evening here. And I said, let's stay. The food is good, I've drank a few glasses of very nice champagne, and the night is young." She grabbed her earpiece and threw it into a nearby potted plant. "Let's stay."

It was a challenge, and he knew it.

Giving her an appreciative glance, he tilted his head in agreement.

"Alright."

He led her away from the secluded corner, and, with a very charming look, suggested that they dance.

"Dance?"

"Yes. Everyone's doing it," he noted, gesturing to the many couples who had filled the centre of the room.

"Okay," she agreed, wondering if it was the champagne, or if her lightheadedness was due to some other reason.

One hand taking hers, Red placed his other hand on the small of her back and pulled her what felt like very close, but was in fact a perfectly normal distance away.

They started moving slowly with the music, and soon Lizzie felt her cheek gently come to rest on his lapel. It felt easy, and she wasn't going to question it if he didn't.

"I've waited for this," she heard him say, or did she? That seemed oddly out of character. Pulling away from his jacket slightly so that she could see his eyes, she couldn't find anything in them to confirm either way.

"What did you say?" she asked, figuring if he'd said something else at least she should know what it was.

"I said, I've been waiting for this, Lizzie," he repeated, and she felt her cheeks warm once again.

"Waiting for what?" her voice was a whisper. He couldn't possibly mean what she was thinking.

Momentarily, he stopped dancing and looked her in the eyes.

"This. All of it. With you."

She definitely felt lightheaded now, and it wasn't just the champagne.

"All of-?" she repeated, and he cut her off, his mouth covering hers and reminding her that, although they were in full view of everyone in the room, they were anonymous here, and so the kiss could take place without any implications, or complications that came from their regular lives.

Leaning into the kiss, she returned it with the pent up energy from months of thinking about just this moment.

"Oh," she exclaimed when they finally broke apart. There didn't seem to be any words for what had just happened.

Red was looking at her with concern, perhaps wondering if she'd gone mad for a moment and suddenly regained her faculty of thought.

"Are you..." he began, but this time she cut him off with another kiss.

In a minute, she managed to pull away long enough to whisper, "I've waited for this, too, you know."

The look of realization in his face was enough to confirm for her then that she hadn't been the only one wanting this to happen.

As they continued to dance, Lizzie knew that the circumstances would immediately change as soon as this evening was over, and they had to return to their lives. But for now, at least, they had this chance. And they were both eager to seize it.

[rumblelibrary]

Might we get some Sebastian Zollner soft smut 👀 maybe even like young him when he was still trying to do his own painting and you were his nude model

The Artist and his Muse [Sebastian Zöllner x his Muse]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut, bit pf fem!dom and a mess of a man

A/N: As usual Sebastian is my weakest spot. The painting here is "In the Tepidarium" by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema.

You stood there quietly, a sense of expectation taking over you when he opened the door at you. You noticed him from day one and now you had to wrap the situation between the two of you.

"There you are"

He only said letting you inside, a second voice greeting you.

"Hey! Seb is that your girlfriend?"

He waved at his flatmate to shut up as he put an hand on your lower back pushing you to get out of that situation fast.

As you got into his tiny room it was a mess.

The space was small, scattered art books and biographies of great artists everywhere on the floor, on the big inclined drawing desk, one of those like architects had. Then drawings, drawings everywhere from the floor to the walls, from over the bed to every visible corner of the room.

Also mugs, ashtrays filled up everywhere, more mugs used as ashtrays and some leftover food also used as ashtray.

The place would have been grey and dull if it wasn't so chaotic and full of colours.

You also noticed from the big amount of duvets over the bed that the place was cold.

"Get your stuff here"

He said moving his, hopefully clean, clothes off a chair so you could lean your stuff there.

"Thank you for coming" he added briefly and you smiled.

"Thank you for inviting me"

It wasn't like you had much choice, you posed for the art academy, but some extra money was always nice and he daunted you for weeks by now, so in the end you said yes.

"So, let's begin or do you need anything?"

"Some water would be nice" you said as he nodded taking a glass full of dirty water, probably used to get wet the brushes, and going away. You heard him throw it away and briefly wash it before coming back to you with the glass full of water and still half dirty.

You smiled as you took it taking a sip only to be polite putting it back on side.

"Now please" he gestured something, he did a lot of hand gestures and a lot of waving like he was constantly trying to get rid of some smoke surrounding him.

"Get naked" he concluded and you nodded quietly undoing your dress as he looked away to look trough some of all those sketches he had around the room finally showing you a sketch of a standing naked figure, he clearly had some ideas for the background and it was quite classic as structure.

"You can hold this" he said handing you a ball "hold it low, around here" he said pressing the ball over your lower stomach.

"You know ,like a fortune teller" he said before giving you his back to prepare the easel and put on the canvas. You notice he sketched the back of it, so he probably didn't have all of that money. The chances to be paid becoming small by minute, but you were here and he was awkward enough to intimidate you a bit.

You put the ball down and proceeded to undress, you folded your clothing over the chair he freed for you and piled them neatly before picking the ball again.

"ruffle your hair, I need a kind of unkept vibe"

you nodded as you held the ball under your arm and with one hand you ruffled your hair standing nicely in place as you put the ball back to its position.

He stared at you as he leaned on side, he jerked his hand blindly on side to turn on the small radio to some low indie pop channel.

You took your time to observe him as you stared in front of you.

He had longish hair and he tied them up into an half bun, a soft beard. He wore a used t-shirt from the band The Smiths already stained with colour and some blue pants that must be his kind of working from home uniform.

He was barefoot and you noticed he bowed his feet inward as he got pensive, like a way to get extra relaxed.

He was cute, you had to admit it. He was also the first in line most of the time during real life drawing lessons, you could tell he was striving for it but he didn't take well criticism. He would glare and frown at every critic, nag at his bottom lip as he resumed his sketching every time with more passion.

It was always weird to go and see a student on your own. When you were working at the academy it was easy because you had a clear shift and pauses, while when working with artists alone you always had to give in some time.

"Relax your shoulders"

You blinked like his words woke you up and you took a deep breath resuming your position.

"It is a study for a classical image, you know something like Alma Tadema works, only modern" you smiled as you liked that painter and you nodded.

Silence took over as he observed you and disappeared behind the canvas. He was nervous from the moment you agreed to meet him alone. he felt like a creep because he always had a bit of a crush on you and he was upset when for a reason or another you were not the model on certain days. You were everything he liked, every proportion of your body was the ideal he had as an artist.

He sketched your shape as for once he had all the time, no change of position, nobody calling it too difficult or interrupting the moment.

He huffed softly as he got too excited awaiting for this moment he couldn't sleep at night and he even cleaned up his room. Well, you could tell he tried.

He observed every detail of you: from the way you had little moles scattered on your body that he never noticed before to the way your collarbone met deliciously under your neck, how your shoulders drifted up every now and then to unease the tension from the lack of movement. He bit on the inside of your cheek as he sketched the navel of your hips, the delicious curve where so many times he imagined to bury his head into, to be kept safe from the welcoming world of your female form, the origin of the world of erotica.

He frowned as you moved to take a sip of water, he looked at the time, 30 minutes already gone?

He stared down to the canvas as he had to focus, focus focus.

"Seb?? Do you have my lighter??"

A male voice that you guessed belonged to his flatmate shouted and he picked a cigarette

"NO" he shouted louder as the other guy groaned from behind the door, you smirked as you watched him light up his cigarette with a metal lighter and blow some smoke.

He resumed his sketching and you relaxed after some time, your eyes darting away as you barely saw him beside the smoke raising from behind the canvas.

"SEB"

Another shout interrupting but this time it was another flatmate that just bounced the door open. You gulped in surprise as you didn't have anything at hand to cover yourself

"What shit is this? What kind of pervert are you?"

The guy asked as Sebastian thew the pencil at him.

"Fuck you" he shouted "get the fuck out, out!" he jumped off his seat throwing the lit cigarette at him. And that’s why you hated to go to people's houses. Other that don't study art looked at you like that, like something dirt ,like a naked woman.

You sighed as you moved toward the bed covering yourself with one of the countless duvets scattered in the room, it was warm and soft at least. You looked away trying to zone out from the little fight going on between Sebastian and his the other guy.

"Sorry"

He said as he locked the door and pushed the drawer in front of it huffing and panting as he came to you showing with a gesture of his hand your way back to that position.

"No, look it is better if I leave, if you want to do it a private session let's do it at the school" you said as you got enough of that place and his flatmates and you also realised that if he lived in that chaos he probably didn't have the money to book the room and also pay you.

"no, no, no, no" he repeated as he moved after you as you marched to collect your belonging.

"please, they are just idiots" he said as he looked like he was ready to have a panic attack.

"I can see that myself, so that's better to end it now"

"no, no you don't understand"

You chuckled as you looked at him "don't understand what? the power of art?" you inquired as you had heard all sorts of excuses about it.

"I need you"

He said helplessly as your frowned and looked away as he gabbed you by your duvet yanking you back a little.

“I don’t work with other models, I can’t process it, when you’re there I am productive, I work and overwork, and my head is full of ideas, of hopes and more and more ideas, I can see things in perspective, I can feel it, it is like a raging fire and I need you t make it start, just please, just listen to me”

You tried to focus onto what was around you and there's when you noticed that from this new perspective you saw the sketch.

You moved closer to it as you admired how delicate was Sebastian's hand, he made little traits, quick slashes that made your figure look like you had never seen yourself before and you had actually seen a lot of sketches of yourself, so many pointing out unflattering things about your body that you tried to avoid having a look at those sketches.

"it is rough, don't" he said as he still held you by the duvet but he noticed you look up at the canvas.

He had never been this close to you. You smelled like fresh flowers and soft creamy after bath lotion, one of those that say your skin will be like honey and milk. He was sure you tasted like it.

He gulped down nervously as now this was widely unprofessional and he would have given all he had to avoid this moment and yet he daydreamed of it for so long while watching you getting dressed after the lesson.

"I apologise, I swear, I never.. I mean I know this is not the best place but I never felt like I do with you before and I didn’t want to screw it up on the first time”

You didn't really had the time to answer as he clashed his lips over yours grabbing the sides of your face with his hands and it was so desperate like he was about to break down.

You pushed him off as he frowned visibly. He looked so taken aback and saddened now.

You almost chuckled to his face as he looked like a pup that got smacked in the muzzle for biting onto something pricy.

You tugged him by his shirt still wrapped up in that duvet pushing him to sit down.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out of it when you moved to straddle him.

"Stay still"

You said as you moved your hand to his jaw making him close his mouth, he stared at you as you brushed you lips against his, he looked at you intensely before closing his eyes and letting you guide him into that kiss. He let out a soft sound as you showed him what kisses are made for, not that fearful rushed slamming from his mouth to yours.

"You're a goddess" he whispered softly as he leaned for another kiss. He pulled onto that duvet now hungry for more.

"Calm down, don't rush so much" you whispered as he almost didn't know what to do with himself. He was hard already, he was desperate for you that colonised his dreams for so long.

"Damn" he groaned as you lowered your hips against his. He stared at you panting softly as you started grinding against him, the fabric of his joggers was soft but you would have endured some itchy feeling just for the way he trembled and groaned from the friction you gifted. You were sure his boxers must be filled with precum already.

"Can I touch you?"

"Not yet" you whispered. You loved the way he draw you, you saw all the desire behind it and he deserved to enjoy it and not to rush through it.

"Fuck please, i have never" he stopped himself as you looked at you curiously.

"I did everything but that" he said as he tried to avoid to mention how usually girls got so annoyed with his that after a very good cunnilingus they would ask him to leave.

"even better then" you said as he looked so nervous it was adorable. you leaned in and kissed him again as he let you take off his shirt as he stared at you adoringly, the duvet falling off your torso as his eyes fluttered closed letting you guide him in the kiss, he had a lot to learn but he was eager to.

You swiped your tongue over his lips as he parted them and groaned as you joined your lips in a more eager kiss, your tongue trying his as his hips jerked aimlessly against you trying to get some relief, but you moved your hips away not willing to satisfy him too fast. He was used to stare at you, to long for you with his eyes and now he had to persevere in that.

You pulled back from him moving to stand up between his legs letting the duvet fall off your body, now the act taking a whole new meaning for him as you kneeled down taking off his clothing.

You pushed his cock out slowly stroking it, your cold fingers making him hiss as you pumped him slowly, your lips moved across his cock slowly sucking on it and tracing its length with your tongue.

“If you cum I will leave”

The threatening enough to make him groan, he couldn’t take his eyes off from you even if that made him only more horny.

“Fuck” he hissed as you sucked on his needy tip already spread with premium, your tongue twirling over it before taking it whole in your mouth.

Oh the strangled moan he let out.

He held over the edge of the bed like a dear of life, your bobbing head making him lose his mind, you let out soft moans and humming sound that echoed through his whole body.

“Fuck”

He repeated, more helplessly than before if possible, as he closed his eyes, he squeezed them as his thighs trembled eagerly fighting against his natural eager nature.

You pulled back as you stood up and he let out a loud groan.

“Look at you, already a mess”

You smirked as you moved to straddle him, your bare slit tracing his cock like your tongue just did before letting the tip of it inside you, then you pulled back making him cry out.

Once again, his hips jerked up helplessly.

“Please” he groaned “I need it, I need it” he begged as you held him by his jaw with your left hand as your right one guided him inside you.

You stared at him as you did, his eyes widened, his pupils blown as your warmth engulfed him and wrapped him in a dense sense of pleasure.

“Move, move”

Your leaned your head on side

“Please”

You still didn’t wince, he parted his lips not knowing what to say.

“You have been staring at me like that all that time, do you think I didn’t notice?” You whispered as he licked his lips nervously

“You used me for your little dreams didn’t you? I bet you wanked like a loser with your sketches, you were getting hard on the first day only”

He whined like a suffering cat his thighs trembling as he was bouncing on his heels lightly

“Am I wrong?”

He shook his head to you and you smirked

“I have been your fantasy, now, you’re going to be mine”

He moaned as you begun to move, your lips meeting his as he sucked onto your finger before you moved your own hand to rub your clit, he was completely out of his zone. He used to be hungry and straightforward and now he was just an idiot who didn’t know where to place his hands.

“My muse” he groaned as your moves were making him go wild, his hips jerking against yours “my muse”

He repeated it as you pushed him to lay onto his bed, your sensual bouncing over his lap making any sane man become a priest for your religion.

“Fill me Sebastian, please me”

You moaned as you rubbed over your own clit as he squeezed your thighs unable to phantom any move, to focus.

His mouth hanged open, he licked his lips and groaned, your permission making him lose control as he released inside you.

He kissed onto your lips rising to sit up, arms around your waist as he nuzzled helplessly against you.

A whole new world open in front of him.

“Do you want to paint me now?”

He nodded looking up at you, hair stuck up to his sweaty forehead as he looked so lost, pupils blown and erratic breath.

You smiled tenderly to him tracing his face with your fingertips guiding him into another kiss that he won’t forget for a lifetime.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling