#Cause I didn't know what pose to draw her in

[floydsteeth]

@m-mmiy hi!! Here's the drawings of tala!:D

I've never drawn a niqab before so it was kinda a challenge:P but it was fun! I hope you like it!!!

[moremousewrites]

Make it Count

Pairing: Astarion/ Tav (fem)

Tags: semi-public sex, oral sex, alcohol, penis in vagina sex, caught in the act

Word count: 1,258

Summary: After a greuling day of pointless adventuring, Tav just wanted to go back to the Elfsong and rest. Her companions invited her to a night on the town but Astarion has a better idea

The party dragged themselves into the Elfsong Tavern. You had spent the whole day running around Baldur's Gate killing ghosts, rounding up living corpses, and finding jars of preserved mummy parts. And to wrap the misadventure up, you were rewarded for your efforts with a portrait (that you had to sit still for hours to pose for) and the damned painter handed you a painting of… Gale.

You handed Gale the painting and left the artist's house before you sent him to the feuge plane for wasting your time. 

So it was a relief to you when you finally slumped into a booth at the tavern, relaxing after a day of nonstop fighting and investigating. 

Astarion squeezed into the booth next to you, pressing his thigh against yours. Even in your exhausted state, it sent electricity through you.

You weren't paying attention to a word that was being shared amongst your group. You focused on your ale and the Astarion's thigh.

Eventually you noticed everyone was awaiting an answer from you. 

“Oh, pardon?” You asked, lifting your head from your arms.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes but gave you a smile. “We wanted to know what you're going to do about the clown parts. They're starting to smell” she generously repeated for you. 

“Nothing” you sighed, dropping your head back on the table.

“Nothing?” Shadowheart questioned. 

“Yes, nothing. Feed them to the owlbear. It's not worth our time and I've never cared for clowns” you said before chugging your ale.

Astarion placed his hand on top of your thigh, causing you to jolt slightly. 

Ever since your night in the graveyard, Astarion had been especially affectionate with you. His touch was welcome after the day you had. He started drawing circles with thumb, massaging your thigh. You listened as Shadowheart and Gale deliberated on plans for the night.

Astarion's hand shifted inward. You tried not to react and draw attention. Pleased by your restraint, he moved his hand closer to your core.

“Tav, do you think you'll come?” Gale asked you, shaking you out of your concentration. 

Shocked by the question and scared you'd been caught, you sat up quickly. “Excuse me?” You asked, guilt filling your words.

Gale raised a brow at your panic. “To Sundries? We're going to get some artifacts appraised” he said as if he had already told you. 

“I think we're going to turn in for the night. Clearly our dear companion needs rest after today's grueling adventure. And I need my beauty rest as well” he spoke for you, pressing a firm finger against your clit. You could only nod in agreement. 

Gale and Shadowheart shrugged but didn't question you further. 

The two of you made your way upstairs trying not to look too eager. You felt a second wave of energy in anticipation for whatever Astarion was planning. Entering the floor your party occupied you noticed it was completely empty for a change. Even the pets were gone, Halsin must have been taking them for a walk.

“Oh how perfect. An opportunity to be alone with you my sweet. I won't waste it” Astarion pushed you onto the nearest bed as quickly as he could. You wanted to play along with him, or even add some witty banter, but you were so exhausted you just let him lead.

“I'll take good care of you, darling. Trust me” he said, removing your shoes and pants with haste. 

“I trust you” you yawned. 

Astarion pulled you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you. “Do try to stay awake. I'd hate for some dream figure to take all the credit for my hard work” he said before licking a flat tongue up your cunt and pausing to flick your clit. 

You arched your back at the sensation. Astarion threw your thighs over his shoulders, pulling your hips into his face while he lavished your awakened clit.

“Please, I need you” you begged, trying to get relief.

Astarion looked up at you through your legs and gave you a sinister grin. “My love, you have me. What more could you need?” He asked, breath hot on you.

Your body convulsed with the absence of his tongue. He was punishing you for your greediness and demanding you beg. Seeing how you were openly receiving cunilingis in the shared living space of all your companions, this was not the fucking time.

You weighed your options: snap at him and get a more degrading, more time consuming punishment, or play along and get rewarded. The latter then.

“Please, Astarion. I need your cock. I need you to make me cum” you appealed to his ego. It worked just barely. 

“Not your best but I suppose I can let it slide given your fatigue” he sighed out. Astarion unhooked your legs and stood up. He unlaced his pants and removed his weeping cock from them.

You wanted to taste him, badly. Instead, Astarion positioned you so you were sitting up, your butt was on the edge of the bed and he held your legs.

“I really do need you to fuck me, now” you smiled at him. Astarion kissed you and lined himself with your hole, soaking now from his licks.

He pressed into you, allowing you a moment to adjust but unrestrained himself in acknowledgement of the lack of time or cover. Astarion generally liked to love you right or not at all. But you would argue his imperfect, sloppy, messy sex was just as right as anything else. You loved him and everything he was.

His hips thrusted into yours in a stuttered pace. He was vigorous but not brutal. Feeling his cock quickly slam into you from your position was driving you to climax. You could feel the sparks of pleasure moving throughout your body. 

Astarion's quiet moans of frustration he'd let slip were the telltale sign that he was just as close as you. He reached between you to press on your lower stomach just how you like and…

“One moment Shadowheart I have to retrieve something from my wares!” Fuck.

You panicked. Pushing Astarion off of you, you threw the covers of whomever's bed you were just fucking in this was. Astarion fumbled with his ties. Of course he did.

“I almost forgot my crooked wand! That would've been foolish of me” Gale bounded into the room making his way over to the chest at the foot of the bed you were currently occupying. 

He noted Astarion who was turning his back to him. And you, sweaty and very much not asleep in his bed. “Were you two fucking just now?” He asked. 

You stared at him blankly. You couldn't think of a way out of this. “Yes Gale, we were fucking. I'm sorry about your bed” you said, earnestly. 

Gale took his wand from his chest and nodded to you. “Alright then. Have a good night, Tav” he said then made his way back downstairs. 

You turned and looked at Astarion who was trying (and failing) to contain a devious smirk.

“You knew this was his bed” you glared at him.

“Of course. Though it seems we're doing him a favour more than anything. He won't be washing these sheets for a long time” he joked. 

You threw a pillow at him and he dodged, uncannily. 

“Oh lighten up. Now that the word is out, we've secured this place for at least ten more minutes” he teased, removing the blanket that hid you from him.

“Then we better make it count”

[teyamsatan]

My sweet bb Andra 💕 How are you doing love ? 💫

I have a juicy Request and I know you will make its justice 😩🤌🏻

So basically, we have Neteyam and Mate going out for a little time together at the lake, or pond whatever (deep enough 😏😳). Reader decides to draw Neteyam. So he poses for her and well she starts drawing and all. She is all concentrated looking at the paper for a moment and she feels something being thrown at her. She looks at him and well 🥴 We don't need any precisions here :3

Reader is all flustered and Neteyam is just smirking widely. Reader hasn't any time to react because we hear Jake's voice screaming Neteyam's name from afar. Oh ! Guess what ? Neteyam forgot. Yes. He forgot a training with his father (Pls let this poor guy rest a bit 🙂).

And Lo'ak (Otherwise it wouldn't be funny hehe)

Neteyam tries to grab his loincloth but reader is faster and throws it far into the bushes, with a smirk obv. So Neteyam has no choice to jump into the water (I know that Na'vi are less ashamed of nudity... Are they ? Anyways !)

So his brother and father get there, very fastly. Everything that happened before was like in 10 secs.

The rest I leave up to you 😏 We only need some funny dad-Neteyam and brother-Neteyam interactions when he just can't go out of the water, but he's very very late... Then we have Lo'ak that finally understands and just cannot stop laughing, making Jake more than less annoyed than he already was. And we have some intense playfull eye contacts with the reader. She's enjoying it haha.

Yeah... You can end it like you want 😂💖 My brain is a mess sometimes ugh 😥

Okay Imma stop 🙈🌸 I hope this inspired you and no pressure okay ? 🫂

Smooches 🥰

no cause this is so so funny and i hope you enjoyed bestie xx it feels good to be back writing for neteyam :((

pairing: neteyam x human!reader

wc: 1170 words

warnings: smut, fluff, minors do not interact 🔞

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, tewng - loincloth, tanhí - bioluminescent freckles

As a human on Pandora, there wasn't much for you to do, very little your body was inherently made for. You were slow and clumsy, a stark contrast to the Na'vi carrying you on his back like a little doll, all nimble and quiet as he treaded the deep shrubbery, his thumbs massaging your thighs as you rested your chin on his shoulder, humming contently in between peppering kisses to his neck.

As a human on Pandora, you were stuck in a lab most days, with filtered air and fluorescent lights, that did nothing for you, that had a rare talent of making even the most beautiful creature look ghastly and ashen, that gave you a headache, that made you miss the beautiful light peering through the uneven gaps created by the branches of the tall trees of the Omaticayan forest. Stuck as you were, you turned to artistic outlets for your boredom. You loved to draw, and you became very good in time, enough that the entire lab and some of the village were now covered in your landscapes and your portraits. The people loved you, and your talents, and often urged you to draw them or loved ones, as a way to immortalise a face or a moment forever in time, a priceless gift for them, and one that gave you a place amongst the Na'vi, even different, as you were.

As a human on Pandora, you didn't have a lot of choice of entertainment... or men. But you've never felt the lack... not when you had Neteyam. Your best friend, your confidant, he was always up for a challenge, and, let's just say, he always thought of you as one. In the few years since your 18th birthday, a rite of passage of sorts for humans, you were told, Neteyam made it his purpose to show you that you will never have to miss out on anything on Pandora, that he would make it his life's mission to... be there for you, in any and every way you needed, be it to be a shoulder to cry on, or a shoulder to rest your legs on as his head was in between your thighs, Neteyam was always there - ready to help, ready to serve.

You gulped as you reminisced about this morning, about the moans that escaped him as he was lapping at your folds like he was quenching an unquenchable thirst, like eating you out was for his own pleasure, and not your own, or the way he didn't stop until you were so overstimulated you were crying, something he made up for by showering you in soft kisses and quiet whispers of "you did so well for me, yawne. you always take me so well."

"You ok back there... friend?"

"Yes, Teyam. Just tired. Are we almost there yet?"

"Patience, love. You wanted more inspiration for your drawings, right? I told you I found just the place, and you're going love it, I promise. It's just a little further."

Well, he was right. The little meadow created by a small, clear pond, bustling with little fish swimming peacefully, drowned in warm sunlight, was the perfect backdrop for the painting you had in mind. With a small smirk, you pointed at the water and clicked your tongue at your much larger, beautiful, muscular friend.

"Get in, Teyam."

"Why?"

"I've wanted to draw you for a while, I just wanted the perfect background, and now I have it. Now go."

You chuckled to yourself as you heard a loud splashing noise, and settled on removing your pad and pens, placing them on the ground next to you as you thought about what positions would work best for what you had in mind. You gasped loudly when something soft hit you in the face, removing you from your less than innocent reveries - it seemed Neteyam was ahead of you, as you felt for the object that you removed from yourself and realised it was his loincloth. When you looked back at him, your mind shortcircuited at the sight of his naked body, glistening in the sun as the water dripped down every defined muscle, down his chest and abs, down his v-line, down his -

"You like what you see, yawne?"

Although it pained you, you raised your eyes until they met his beautiful features, tanhí shining brightly even in broad daylight, as they always did when he was overtly happy or amused, and by the wild, mischievous grin and crinkles by his eyes, it was a safe assumption he was both.

"I say you forget the painting for now, and come here so I can show you how... grateful I am you thought of me as your next subject."

It was a no-brainer to you, really, but when you heard a voice you knew all too well screaming, the noise echoing through the trees, heightening the sound, your body stilled in place.

"Neteyam! Are you there, boy?"

"Fuck! I forgot I was supposed to meet my dad for training."

"Quick, throw me the tewn-" you screeched as the instruction came too little too late, and in the heat of the moment and much to Neteyam's dismay, frightened by the quickly approaching steps of the Olo'eyktan, you threw the cloth in the opposing direction, somewhere in the bushes.

"Netey- ah, kid. What are you two doing here?"

You just looked at him, panicked, eyes flickering from him to Neteyam's younger brother, who looked at you suspiciously, eye narrowed as they assessed the situation at hand through a lens of youth and misdemeanour Jake couldn't really see, and you were glad.

"Cat got your tongue, kid?" The Sully patriarch's raised eyebrow did very little to will out of the catatonic state you found yourself in, so you remained quiet as he scoffed, turning his attention to his oldest son, instead.

"You were supposed to be in training at 1400 hours, remember?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on, out. We need to be off and make up for it."

"I-I... can't."

"And why the hell not, boy?"

You felt Jake's eye roll deep in your soul, and you felt like you should take the blame for this since... you threw Neteyam's clothes away in fear, and everything. You should rectify this.

"Jake, I-"

"Oh, my Eywa! He's naked! He's so naked!"

Your mouth dropped in shock, but it was too late. The cat was indeed out of the bag, and as your and Neteyam's eyes met, listening to his dad's groans of disgust, you were a little relieved to see a hint of a smile on his face, the beautiful twinkle of amusement putting your mind at ease, letting you know it was all going to be ok. As long as you were together, and you had him, it was all going to be ok.

Reaching your hand behind your head to scratch the itchy spot at the base of your neck, you laughed awkwardly as you spoke:

"I'm... experimenting with some new artistic techniques?"

[vixensbrainrotts]

The one behind the mask

Content: Short imagine

Tropes: tattoo artist! reader, hairdresser! reader, vaguely gothic! reader, Draken is kind of obsessed with the reader here, but nothing really too deep

Warnings: some mention of scissors and tattoos (lmk if i missed anything)

Summary: Takemichi has to find out more about the past-you, so he decides to ask around the gang to see if anyone has any connections. To his luck, Draken deems him fit to meet you, and so Takemichi gets to experience your expertise first hand

Vixen’s two cents: This is such a random idea, idek where it came from but lmk if you like it or not. Also! Requests and asks are open, and if you’d like to be a moot (to perhaps proofread or triangulate ideas) pleaseeee feel free to message me!!!! Now enjoy

"She's the best at what she does, trust." Draken's voice left no room for argumentation, his gruff voice sealing the deal as he leans back into the couch behind him. He was on an endorphin high of sorts, his confidence boosted due to the fresh lineup he just got, the growing hair now cut shirt, his signature style refreshed.

Akkun frowned behind Takemichi a little, a bit disheartened by the 'threat' you posed to him and his future business. "So... She cuts hair and therefore she's under special gang-internal protection?"

Draken chuckles heartily and shakes his head. "No, no. More than that. She‘s the best tattoo artist i know too! Ask any guy who got a tattoo in the past three years who tatted it, and she's your answer. She does it well, too. I remember back when a guy wanted an impossible coverup for an ex's name- she made it work, right as rain! And there was an awful lot of ink to cover."

Takemichi didn't quite grasp why or how you achieved the status you unintentionally had in the gang, but it was vital information for his future, real-time version. When Naoto had asked him to research you a little closer in person, Takemichi had expected you to be another fierce gang leader- one who dons the same scary-looking plague mask as you in the future.

What he had not expected was to learn that you were apparently a hairdresser-tattoo artist fusion type thing. Why did you play such a big role in the future? Sure, he understood having a favorite barber, Akkun being the best example for that, but placing them in the closest circles of a highly criminal gang for exclusive trimming rights? That's a little far, no?

"You don't get it, do you?" Draken asked, his hands on his thighs, rubbing them as he rose to a stand in one movement. Takemichi flinched a little, a bit taken aback at how easily Draken would read him. "No, not really. I-" Before he could finish, he was interrupted.

"What's this about?" he was cut short by the other twin Dragon. "Mitsuya-kun!" Takemichi startled. "Y/n. He doesn't quite get why she's has the place she has here." Mistuya's eyes widened a sliver at Draken‘s words, and he threw an arm around Takemichi's shoulder. "You got any plans Hanagaki?" Takemichi shook his head no in response. "Good, 'cause we're givin' her a visit."

And with that, Takemichi's fate was sealed. Mitsuya and Draken pulled him along towards their bikes, Akkun tagging along behind him per Takemichi's request. The group settled onto their bikes and drove off, and Takemichi tried to keep track of the path from hither to thither, but lost track after the turns got too confusing.

After a while, both bikes came to a stop, pushing down the Kickstands in front of a grungy-looking little shop, the doors glazed in a matte cover, only leaving an outline that looked like a Plague-doctor's mask. Ah. There was a parallel he could draw. "Is this the place?" Akkun asked, his voice laced with a bitter touch of distaste, probably intimidated by your place in the hairdressing market.

"Yup! This is where dreams are made a reality!" Mituya spoke, his voice a lot livelier and genuine than usual. "She's gonna have a field day with you Mitchy." Draken snickers as they push open the doors to the shop, a little jingle playing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean-" Takemichi's voice died in his throat when his eyes fell on the interior. Dark, weird, gothic, wonderful. Those were the words that come to him t describe your shop. Kooky portraits, lacey details, and a million different shades of black were highlighted only by the mahogany of the front desk and the dimly glowing lamps and candles littered around the walls and surfaces.

There was a black bulletin wall with a few dozen sketches pinned to it, the title "Please let me put this on you" in the center of pictures of flowers, bugs, lace designs, birds, and many, many others that didn't fall into the eye too directly.

On your desk and on a shelf behind it laid a few skulls of animals Takemichi couldn't even begin to place, the only hint being the type of sharp, white teeth they did (or didn't) have.

There was a scent of something in the air, but Takemichi couldn't place that either. It was a pleasant mix of natural and synthetic, a unique mix that lingered in his nose and clouded his mind with a very welcomed sense of calm.

"Coming." An unexpectedly soft voice called. What however emerged from the corridor leading off to somewhere next to your desk, looked nothing like the voice Takemichi just heard. The guy was almost bigger than Draken and just about the same amount of bald, his face littered with piercings and clad in a style much too modern to fit the shop.

The guy didn't talk to them however, he only turned to the desk, pulled out a wallet, and started fidgeting with the bills. With his back turned his scalp was on display, an impressive image of a burning, hyperrealistic black and white skull faced the group. It was new, they could tell by the slightly red skin, and the shiny coat of a second skin placed carefully overtop. Takemichi held his breath. So that's what you do. Draken pointed a finger at the fresh tattoo and pulled his brows upwards for a moment, clearly impressed with how clean it looked.

Then a second pair of footsteps sounded from the same hallway, and this time Takemichi was sure it was you. Lo and behold your figure emerged, clad in something much more appropriate to the shop's aesthetic, black latex gloves still on. "Ah." you looked a little unimpressed when you caught sight of the group looming in your reception.

"Didn't I just get rid of you?" it was purely rhetorical, because the moment you passed them, you were tending to the guy standing at the desk, showing him a clipboard and then mumbling a price at which the guy nodded and passed the money, saying his thanks before bidding you a pleasant afternoon before leaving the shop, the door falling shut and the little jingle playing again.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask, sorting the money into the register, separating the tips and putting them into a little box beside it. "Hi y/n." Draken started, grinning from ear to ear. "Hello, Ken. Speak. What do you want?" You didn't spare them a glance as you finished up and pulled the gloves, chucking them into a bin under the desk.

"Right, so, I've brought you someone in desperate need of your assessment." Draken finished finally, stepping to the side to reveal Takemichi in your line of sight, and it was as if you felt the shift, you looked up.

When your and his gaze locked, a shiver ran down his spine and he could feel sweat trickle down his nape. He gulped and shakily brought up a hand to send you a little wave. “Oh fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, eyes darting form his face to his hair and down to his face again. “Yeah alright thanks for the charity case.” Takemichi didn’t know whether to feel offended or not.

“It’s bad, isnt it?” Draken leaned over your desk and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Takemichi. “Worse.” You replied curtly and then waved your hands at the group, ushering them to back up a little. You bustled your way to the hallway, waving a hand to them again. “Come then.”

You left the group a bit aloof, but after a few seconds of standing in silence Draken and Mitsuya started following you into the side rooms. Take Michu and Akkun shared a look before following cautiously, a little unsure of what to expect.

Once they entered a room you had already set up a chair in front of the biggest mirror Takemichi had ever seen, and were sorting out different tools and products on a tray in front of the mirror. Draken and Mitsuya had taken a set on a couch adjacent to the seat and were idly chatting about this and that to you in terms of the shop as well as a few questions regarding your previous client.

Idle chit-chat halted when you laid eyes on Takemichi and gestured for him to sit. “Well then, please sit.” Takemichi shares a brief look with Akkun again, who by now has taken seat in the grandfather armchair beside the couch the others were on. “Mkay..” he mumbles and sits stiffly.

“Relax!” You say as you come up behind him “You look like you’re about to shit yourself. I promise i wont stab you or anything.” Your face morphs into something that might resemble a smile before you grab his hair cautiously, carding your fingers through it, judgemental eyes scanning his hair. “Hmm Ken, when i said you should bring me your worst i didn’t really mean it.“ Ken laughs in response “You should know me by now, i dont make promises i cant keep!”

You roll your eyes a little “I would have appreciated a heads up if i knew that this is what you’re bringing me…” you pull the hair out of his face and tilt his head to different angles. “He has a good face with strong features, its just unfortunate how he’s decided to work with it.”. You speak as if he’s not in the room with you.

After a few moments of silence you release his head again and grab the scissors hanging from your belt pointing them at Takemichi through the mirror. “I know what i have to do with him.”

Mitsuya and Dranken whooped in response. You tell him about what kind of hair he has, how to treat his scalp, what colors and shades would (and wouldnt) suit him and how to style it properly.

By the time you’re done, you and him had agreed on a cooler, slightly darker shade of blonde as well as a more maintainable cut thats easier to style. Then you began unleashing tool after tool, product after product, and Takemichi thinks that this is the longest and simultaneously shortest hour he’s ever experienced.

When you finally deem your work as finished, you have him turned away from the big mirror in anticipation. “You ready?” You ask him with a slight smile on your face and grab the back of his chair, ready to spin him around. Before he answers, Takemichi looks over to the guys sitting on the couch.

Draken nods approvingly, “You’ve dont it again y/n, i cant believe it!”. Mitsuya wolf-whistles jokingly, “Damn Mitchy! Your girlfriends about to be real happy.” and Akkun’s mouth hangs open in pure admiration “How...? what…?” And thats all the approval he needs to turn nod at you, allowing you to turn him around.

For a second Takemichi wasn’t sure who was looking back at him through the mirror before he realized that it was his reflection, eyes just as wide as his felt, but the hair about a million times better than the last time he looked at it. All of a sudden he understood why the guys cared so much to keep you to themselves- you were a one in a million find.

“So.. What do you think” you ask, knowing well what the answer was. Takemichi wishes he could have answered but the words caught up in his throat, so he stayed open-mouthed like a fish out of water. “I think he likes it.” Draken answered for him and rose to a stand, the others following suit behind him. “We’re done here then.” You conclude and pull the cover off of Takemichi’s still frozen body.

“How much do i owe you?” Takemichi finally chokes out once Akkun had pulled him out of the seat and towards the shop’s front. You glance up at Takemichi and shake your head. “Nothing. I had enough fun fixing you, so perhaps just consider coming back when time’s due?” You walk behind the counter, checking something that looked like a schedule. “Now it was a pleasure doing business, but i have a client coming in for a sleeve in half an hour and i think i want a lunch break beforehand.”

“Thank you so much!” Takemichi says again before turning to the door, running a hand through his hair confidently. Akkun follows closely behind him, keen on inspecting the new cut from every angle, whilst Mitsuya throws a “We’ll leave you to it then!” Over his shoulder to you and leaves the little shop as well.

Takemichi is still too caught up in the bliss before he realizes that one of them is missing. “Wait!” He stops abruptly, “What about Draken?!” Akkun gasps in realization too and goes to turn around but is quickly stopped by Mitsuya who pulls the both of them along.

“Leave him to it, I think he’s getting lunch before his appointment so dont you worry about them.”

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Before I Met Angels - Pt 2 - Now...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean came for the hunt, but he stayed for you. He shows you exactly why you don't need to be insecure about the thicc juicy parts of you he can't get enough of.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: Thank you for your request, Nonny! You wanted insecure reader who was worried that Dean didn't like her fabulous Goddess body, but he does, and shows her just how much he does by devouring her. I hope this hits the spot.

I actually wrote the back story for this which is Before I Met Angels Pt 1 - Then..., but this is part 2 - now... Enjoy 😘

Warnings: Smut, oral - mainly F receiving, insecurities/comfort, bit of fluff, bit of cheesiness. Surprisingly not much by way of profanity.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

The sound of the TV blends into the background, secondary to the steady thu-thump of your heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The sofa is soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you are partially wrapped around.

Dean Winchester had been with you for almost three months, and what months they had been.

You first met when Dean showed up on your doorstep after the ghost of your long dead boyfriend had started killing off your love interests all over town.  Dean had posed as your newest suitor in order to lure the ghost out and your connection had developed from there.

The weeks of pretending to be attracted to each other had resulted in undeniable chemistry and, once your ghost problem had been resolved, you had asked him to stay the night.  Months later, he was still staying the night.

Dean’s hands stroke your waist and hip as you snuggle up against him, his laugh is like poetry, even if it’s born from the most recent episode of Dr Sexy.  He inches your baggy sweater up until he finds bare skin, glancing at you when you tense slightly as his fingers slip under the waistband of your leggings.

You don’t like a lot of things about your body, such as your stomach and ‘thunder thighs’ as you call them, because they aren’t what people think of as attractive.  Dean has never said these things to you, but for someone with a sex drive like his, how can he prefer how you look over some of the women you have seen hitting on him since you’ve known him?

When you look up at Dean he is staring down at you, reading the anxiety on your face with a light frown, but rather than draw attention to it and make you explain what he already knows, he simply sits and adjusts himself so your legs are across his lap rather than you being lay against each other.

Just so arranged, he begins to give you a foot rub, gradually working his way up your calves while he glances less and less frequently at the TV.  When he slides his hands up the tops of your thighs, you close your eyes but he doesn’t stop.  Dean strokes and kneads your thighs before teasing with his fingertips over your clothes, feather-light touches causing a delightful tingling sensation to creep up to your core.

When his hand dips between your legs and gently glances over your covered mound you inhale sharply, earning a sly smirk from him.  That bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.  He strokes there again with the pads of his fingers circling until you clamp your thighs around his hand, trapping him.

“Just where I wanna be,” he flashes you a wicked grin as he continues to apply pressure and motion right over your most sensitive spot.  “I love it even more when you grip my hips like this… or my head.”

“Dean…”  You admonish half-heartedly.  You don’t want him to stop.  You never want him to stop.  “Please…”

“You want something, baby girl?” 

Of course you do, and he knows it.  Dean always knows what you want, it’s shameful how easily he reads the signs your body displays for him.

You nod, reaching for him.  “Just you.”

You want to pull him down onto the couch with you again and have him kiss you and make you forget all the hateful things your traitorous brain tells you about yourself and about how he feels about you.  How can someone as perfect as he is really be attracted so someone like you?

“Oh, you’ll have me, but I got something I wanna do first,” he says, reaching under your ass for the waistband of your leggings.  “Now lift,” he commands.

Dean slides your leggings down over your ass and up your raised legs until you are bare; he has brought your panties off with your leggings, exposing you to him completely.

Your instinct is to pull your sweater down over your stomach but he stops you with a kind but firm grip on your hands.  Releasing you, he bites his lip as he strokes the bare skin of your legs, abdomen and hips.  Embarrassed at being so exposed, you look away from him.

“Hey,” his finger under your chin stops you and turns your gaze back to him.  “Eyes on me, understand?”

You nod nervously, and he gets up to strip himself down to his jockey shorts before kneeling on the floor.

He’s half hard already – the firm shape of his arousal visible underneath the straining grey of his shorts – and he’s getting harder every second he looks at you with that hunger in his eyes.

Dean Winchester has never has ever taken anything from you he hasn’t given in return ten-fold, and he’s not about to break that habit now.  He tugs you towards him, his hands under your knees, and turns you to access your exposed heat.  Glistening with your need for him, you feel his breaths as a rhythmic cooling breeze.

“This,” he says lifting one of your legs up and bringing his lips to your ankle where he lays a kiss, “is sexy.”

You blush and look away, earning you a nip with his teeth right were he had kissed before, making your eyes snap back to where his eyes burn into you with heat and a warning not to look away again.  Soothing his bite afterwards with his tongue, he makes a wet meandering trail up your calf where he lays yet more kisses.

“And this,” he says, holding your gaze while his lips and short beard leave your skin sensitive and hot.  “This is gorgeous.”

Your face is aflame as he moves steadily higher, stroking his hands and lips up your inner thigh.

“But this,” he sucks a light mark into the delicate skin of your thigh, causing you to moan and pull away from the slight aching reminder of his mouth.  “This is divine.”

Dean slides his hand right up to the apex of your thighs where he blows a more cooling breath against the moisture pooling between your lips, laying kisses around where you want him most, but never actually touching you there.  He hums with satisfaction as you squirm when he pulls away.

“Patience is a virtue.”  The cheeky bastard says with a smugness he tries to hide behind a coy smile.  It doesn’t work and he looks devilishly amused as he raises your other leg to start the process again.

All you can do is watch him as he lavishes the skin of your legs with his kisses and the occasional scrape of his stubble.  When you flinch, he soothes you with obscene tongue-work that you know is going to ruin you when he finally reaches his goal.  All the while, his eyes hold yours as he does to you the things he knows you deserve.

Stroking his hand up the undersides of your calf, he guides your leg over his shoulder and slides his other up the inside of your other thigh.  He meets your gaze once more when he leans in with his lips a deeper pink from his kisses and the green of his eyes a mere sliver against the black of his pupils.  If there is any doubt that Dean Winchester is into you, this is your sign to throw that doubt away.

He places a gentle sucking kiss over your sensitive spot.  The tightly wound anticipation of this contact makes your thighs twitch, and you see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he does it again, sucking a little firmer this time, and again, until you moan his name.

Dean has tasted you before, on his fingers or on yours, but never had full access to the buffet table, so to speak.  Your sweet muskiness is alluring, and he devours you like a messy burger, his slurps obscene, his moans erotic.  He brings you so close to the edge multiple times, teasing you with the orgasm he knows you want but denying you at the last second.

You beg him to finish you but he smirks and pulls back, his beard dark with your slick and his lips red and swollen.

He leans his head on your plush thigh as he keeps your pleasure alive with his suckling kisses and the flat swipe of his tongue.  You’re practically pulsating with need when he finally speaks.

“God damn beautiful.”  His voice cracks with desire as he takes the sight of you in; burning with pent up need, twitching and writhing with desperation.  “Think it’s time I give you what you need, baby girl.”

You sigh with relief, though the white-hot tension in your core still consumes you, just the promise of release is enough to relax your frenzied senses.

Dean buries his face in your wet heat once more with renewed fervour, reigniting the fuse within you and causing you to crest the mountain of pleasure he had built for you. It bursts within you like a dam, cascading forth in waves of intensity far sharper than anything you have felt before, even with him.  The guttural cry that escapes your throat makes him moan against your flesh.

Just when you think it is starting to fade, Dean slides his fingers into you, changing the sensation altogether, making it deeper and more well-rounded, and you don’t stop coming – or at least you feel like you don’t stop.  When another climax crests you sink below the surface of the surging force he’s creating within you.

You reach out, fisting your fingers in his hair, not to draw him closer but to pull him away as his ministrations on your clit become too intense.  He chuckles as he rises, looking down at you with a devout reverence you had never seen from him before.  It shakes you but it doesn’t last long, his grip changes and so does his expression, becoming more focused and hungrier.

He looms over you, his arousal making a mount Everest-like peak in the topography of his underwear and abdomen, its dark peak a sign of just how hungry he is for you.

“I need you, Dean.”  You reach for him and gasp out as he curls his fingers more ruthlessly inside you.  Tears form in your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”  He groans when you bear down around his fingers.  “So sweet, so tight, so… sexy.”

You go to protest, to tell him you’re none of those things but he doubles his pace, working his hand in and against you more frantically, bringing forth an explosion of pleasure that wipes the words from your brain.

“That’s my girl,” he praises when you spasm around his fingers once more, your slick coating more of his hand.  “Show me how you’re gonna wreck me when I finally put my cock in you.”

When you come this time, your back arches and you’re forced to close your eyes tight.  You shake and wimper in the aftershocks and Dean withdraws his hand, smoothing soft caresses up and down your thighs and you are overwhelmed by the sheer power of it.  He has never taken you like this before, never reduced you to a speechless mess.

Dean sits on the couch and pulls you to him, stroking your hip and back, your arm and thigh and then, when the shaking subsides, your face.  He brushes back your hair, tilting your chin up so he can lay a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Don’t you ever question how beautiful you are,” he says firmly.  “I’m not the kind of guy who hangs around if he don’t want to, you know that.”

You nod, “I know but-”

“Ain't no buts,” he takes your had and lowers it to his straining hard cock.  “I want you too, always have. See?”

You smile deviously, the idea of edging him like he did to you is becoming more and more appealing.  You stroke him firmly, sitting up to flash him sultry smile, licking your lips as you lower yourself towards him.

The way you kiss the tip has his head falling back against the couch, the slow swirl of your tongue makes fists of his hands in the cushions.

“You, know,” he says breathily, “before I met angels, I would have said you were one – jesusmaryandjoseph -” he moans low and throaty.

“Mmm-hmmm.”  You mumble with him in your mouth, sucking him in deeper, goading him to continue.

“But now…,” he swallows hard, licking his suddenly dry lips, “now I think you’re the devil.”

You chuckle deeply at the idea that you’re more of a tease than he is.  After what he just did to you, no less.  The notion that Dean Winchester, of all people, wants you is something you still don’t fully accept but every day he keeps showing you it’s true.  Every day he’s there with you is one more day you’re thankful that he showed up on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a different future.

[wolfythewitch]

GIVE US THE DETAILS!!!!! THE ONES YOU MENTIONED IN THE TAGS OF YOUR RECENT ZOMBIE COMIC GIVE GIVE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

THANK YOU okokokok

First is that Wilbur got bit multiple times! There's a few scrapes here and there too but the definite bites are on his hand, knee, and elbow like Phil.

Even though Wilbur is touch averse, he still leans in against Kristin's hand when she hesitates because in his mind, this is the last time he'll ever get to see her. I decided not to add speech bubbles, but he was supposed to whisper "mama"

They didn't lock Phil in with him, Phil followed in after Wilbur. What I really like about that one frame where he stands over Wilbur is like. I mentioned Phil being somewhat of a symbol of Wilbur's guilt and blame, so that fact he follows him into the room and stands watch is like!! It's just a cool nod to that. Because him saving tommy, while an act of good, was also done out of guilt.

The most you can see from Kristin is either tears beading up at the corners of her eyes, or a tearstain. She's not crying because she's trying to be strong for Wilbur and the others.

Also Wilbur and Kristin mirroring each other's poses somewhat I thought would be a cool thing to draw out

These next ones aren't really details, but more of things I couldn't include or make apparent. One is when Techno squeezes her hand, it's a silent apology before he goes to pick up tommy. That he gets to hold his little brother and sleep next to him, and Kristin can't even be with her son in his final moments.

And techno is also holding tommy tight cause this, because he is what Wilbur is "dying" (I put this in quotes cause he isn't dying but they don't know that) for. And it's a bunch of conflicted emotions. Devastation that this teen is dying for your brother, and the relief that it's him in that room and not tommy.

It's why in the og ask I said that techno was praying to a god he didn't believe in.

Because he's praying to hell and back that Wilbur lives

That Kristin won't lose her only other family

That tommy won't have to live with the guilt of someone dying for him

That Wilbur, this 14 year old kid he just met, won't die as broken and as haunted as he is now. No kid deserves that

[mistress-of-malevolence]

For this year's Mer-may (which I definitely didn't almost forget about) I present Angler Fish N & Octopus Uzi~ just the sketches though.

◀◁Possible AU details below? ▷▶ Warning: Long.

Ok, so I've never really made an AU before. Still, While I was designing these I was trying to figure out how the sea/ocean creatures would work good not just with their respective species (worker, disassembly) and abilities but also how I could integrate their pre-existing designs so that they would look nice and make sense.

First, I decided I didn't want them to be robotic for this since I like working with organic creatures a bit more. Having flesh eliminates most movement restrictions when posing since the body material is malleable. while the idea of robot mermaids is cool, I didn't feel like drawing a bunch of joints and stuff like that. Second, If they were organic then I needed to figure out why they were fighting if it wasn't for a huge human plot to destroy rouge AI. And finally, how was I going to incorporate their powers like absolute solver and other such stuff without necessarily using technology. Having all these things in the back of my head while I was drawing led to the following, so without further ado, here's that ↓. This gonna be long, I can already feel it...

_______

◇Story stuff.

A long time ago, merpeople ruled the water in peace. Humans kept to the land and the only thing they had to worry about were the sirens: Natural predators to the merpeople.

In the eyes of the merfolk, sirens were dangerous. Mindless, bloodthirsty monsters that couldn't be reasoned with. fortunately, their naturally heightened senses left them sensitive to sunlight. This kept them mostly contained to deeper, darker waters than the merpeople usually inhabited.

During the day it was safe to hunt, play and generally flourish as a species and at night they would hide in sea caves and other small spaces that a siren would have trouble fitting into.

That's how it was for many peaceful years. Occasionally one or two would die a victim to the monsters of the deep, but that was just nature.

But slowly as time moved forward and Humanity continued to develop, the merpeople were driven to deeper waters to escape pollution and being hunted.

Uzi's mother, Nori began having visions of a terrible fate that awaited her kind if things continued as they were and after weeks of pleading with her people and her husband to heed the warnings, she went to the sirens alone. for what reason? No one really knows. It's a mystery that only she knew the answer to.

After getting stung by the sirens paralyzing venom, her husband Khan made the heartbreaking decision to put Nori out of her misery before the sirens could do any worse, leaving him to raise their infant daughter Uzi by himself.

The incident resulted in a lot of deaths and many of the families of those that had passed blamed Nori. Saying that she was a mad woman and rumouring that she was a witch who had been meddling in dark magic that caused her to lose her mind and wander towards her death.

Seventeen years later, Uzi had grown up to be an unstable and particularly angsty teenager with a strained relationship with her colony and her father. Uzi believed that the ever-looming threat of the sirens was not something to hide from, but to confront head-on. Such notions labelled her as her mother's daughter in the worst ways possible: Crazy, an incident waiting to happen, most likely going to get eaten by a siren for reasons they will never understand.

Khan had kept the colony safe since Nori's death by having everyone hide away in a cavern big enough to house them but with an entrance so well hidden that everyone believed that the sirens would never find a way in.

Inevitably, Uzi grew tired of cowering and after fashioning the first semi-modern weapon her people had seen out of sea trash and other things humans had chosen to toss into their waters, she snuck out to confront the enemy.

The siren's lair was decorated rather grimly, with the nest seemingly fashioned out of the bones of long-dead mermaids, skulls stacked up together to make the walls of the lair. Inside the dimly lit den was a single male siren who was in the middle of feasting on a mummified corpse which looked to have been drained of all its blood.

As soon as he noticed her, he rushed toward her with killing intent. Uzi's fight or flight kicked in as she brandished her weapon, but it failed to deter the monster in his bloodthirsty craze. He grabbed her by the shoulders, stinging her with the paralyzing toxin in his Claws. Uzi barely managed to break free from his grip by slashing his face with her weapon, sending him reeling back from shock.

Uzi immediately felt her limbs growing heavier but ignored it in favour of taking the opportunity to take the Siren by surprise. While he was distracted she threw her weapon to the ceiling causing an avalanche of skulls to come crashing down on top of him. Uzi had only a moment to breathe, thinking her enemy was buried and dead before a clawed hand burst through the top of the pile like a zombie about to dig itself out of the grave.

Panic surged through her and with as much strength she could muster she pushed away the darkening of her vision and forced the few tentacles that didn't refuse to move to propel her forward with enough force to hopefully finish the job.

The siren's head burst through the pile of death with a groan of pain, but before he could do anything else, he was knocked unconscious as rock made contact with his already aching head.

All was silent for a moment, Uzi fighting for consciousness as her vision continued to darken, whether she was just crashing from the adrenaline or if the toxin was shutting her brain down she wasn't sure. but then the monster woke up, a confused look on his face as he pulled himself out of the skeletons. he blinked and turned his attention to the little creature before him.

"Did you just hit me with that rock?"

"Holy crap it talks."

_______

◈Extra details.

-The sirens and Humans have a deal with each other that if the humans drive the Mer-people deeper into siren territory the sirens will kill the species off in exchange for making them more powerful.

-Apparently, the humans want them dead because they are considered a threat, and can't be reasoned with.

-this is a giant lie on the human part, as they have made no attempt to talk with the merpeople and plan to kill all the sirens after the mermaids are dead.

-Rather than absolute solver being a program I'm changing it to being some form of magic that the humans discovered mermaids had after analyzing corpses that had washed ashore.

-In order to gain this power plan on reverse engineering it from the merpeople's remains while eliminating the prospective threat to humanity at the same time.

-The humans claim that they will make the sirens more powerful by implementing them with tech that will supposedly allow them to live and hunt during the day.

-This tech would actually be something of a remote detonator that once activated would be used to kill all the sirens off at once.

-I haven't decided if all sirens are angler fish, but probably not because that would be boring for me to design.

-Not all merpeople are Octopi though, that's for sure.

-I'd say that since merpeople can be the same species without necessarily being based around the same sea creature, the babies would simply take after one parent entirely.

-This would make sense in this as to why Uzi looks like the spitting image of her mom.

-While trying to figure out Absolute Solver I was really channelling Ursula for Uzi with the skull and the octopus stuff and it all just kinda resulted in sea-witch.

-Both mermaids and Sirens got bioluminescence as a default so that we don't gotta stifle that glow they got in canon.

-Since it wouldn't make sense for fish to have screens and stuff of their faces and bodies, those dark areas where the face-screen would be are just body markings now.

-Uzi's hat is now a sea anemone that just kinda chills on top of her head, kinda like how they do with crabs in real life.

________

I know this was really fucking long but if you made it to the end, thank you very much for reading❤️

Im still workshopping this and I don't even know if anyone has already done something like this. I wouldn't be too surprised if they had since it's May and Mermaids are pretty popular... idk, if I make a fic I'll let you know.

[thefairestfacts]

Excuse me!?Nobody has ever done a proper cedrise's headcanons YET??

eheheheheeheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh

Cerise thought Cedar didn't know her secret. She did,lmao.they are roomies I mean- Cedar didn't tell anybody because nobody asked, or at least always tried to avoid the argument.

This kind of offended Cedar but also understands why she didn't tell her.

Cedar always draws Cerise whenever she can. For her,she's like a form of ispiration. But is too shy to ask her to pose for a drawing

Cedar loves musicals, Cerise doesn't🧍‍♀️

While Cerise is good at any kind of sports, Cedar is good at any kind of art. except maybe for theatre.

Cerise doesn't like vegetables. She always avoids them. Also Cedar does not like vegetables, but she in not that picky.

Cedar has mobility issues, especially in coordination. Cerise is tall and strong, she helps Cedar into not falling and to stand up by making her lean against her.

I'M GONNA CHANGE STH OF THE THRONE COMING EPISODE: Daring didn't envite Cerise to dance, Cedar did. Her excuse was "I need someone to help me stand up while I dance"

Cerise once saw Cedar praying upon a star. Cedar was a bit embarassed, Cerise comforted her, saying there was nothing wrong in praying and wishing. Then Cedar asked if it was true that wolves prayed upon the moon, Cerise eventually confirmed it was true.

That's when Cerise realized Cedar knew about her wolf side.

The ""only"" who know about her are: Cedar, Raven, Cupid (BECAUSE C MON SHE WAS IN MONSTER HIGH) ,Darling (lmao secret white) and Kitty.

They are both bad at cooking, they once have been banned by Ginger for almost burning the Kitchen.

Cedar doesn't curse, but you know what?She speaks italian, almost nobody knows italian at school, so she sometimes says a word of two in that linguage to feel less guilty. Or it comes out naturally.

"CAZZO!" Cerise:"What did you say?" "I've just cursed in italian,please don't tell anybody I did" "Aww, don't worry. I always curse, it's fine"

The only one cat Cerise doen't hate is Figaro, Geppetto's cat.

Both introduced eachother to their families. It went well,Yay! Red Hood loves Cedar and Cerise loves Geppetto's food.

Cedar is beautiful, naturally beautiful.Pinocchio admitted he built Cedar in a way to be genderless, but he ended up making her face more feminine because Cedar wanted to.

Cerise really compliments Pinocchio for how he built Cedar, 'cause DAMN SHE'S BEAUTIFUL.

Cerise once tried to kiss Cedar, but she stopped her. She said it was because of the skin made of wood. Cedar promised that when she will become a real girl, it will be the first thing she eventually does as a human.

They always had a very close bond, but not just because they are roomates. Cerise doesn't know how to explain it, neither Cedar does. They just know they will always stand by eachother side.

That's it everybody, I hope you liked the headcanons even thought they were a kind of a mess. See ya!

...

[animationmovieshipps]

From Rags to Riches: Chapter 3

After a week working at the agency, you were finally going to be part of your first fashion show. You barely managed to sleep the night before, you were so anxious.

Since you were little, all you dreamed of was walking down a catwalk, now it was finally so much closer than far, it made you feel a little strange.

You remained still as the makeup artist carefully applied shimmery gold eyeshadow to your eyelids to match the clothes you'd use.

"Open your eyes, hon." She asked.

You slowly opened both of your eyes, the intensity of your gaze combined with the makeup left the girl completely stunned.

"Uh, are you okay?" You asked her, noticing her strange behavior.

"Sorry about that, it's just that in all these years working as a makeup artist, I've never seen beauty like yours." She explained.

You smiled. No matter how many times you heard someone say that, you were happy as if it was the first time you heard it.

"Thanks."

"Well, you're ready to go." She said with a smile. "Do you want to check on yourself?"

"Is that a question to ask?" You said between laughs. "Of course I want."

"Then get up and turn around."

You stood up from the chair and smoothed the skirt of your dress, before turning around and finally seeing how you looked reflected in front of the large mirror. You were completely speechless as you admired yourself.

You looked like another person, but you knew it was you.

You had dreamed of that moment so many times, if you were still dreaming, you never wanted to wake up. The makeup artist soon noticed the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, don't cry." She said, resting her hands on your shoulders. "Or the makeup will be all smudged, the waterproof makeup won't arrive until next week."

"I'm not crying." You denied it, laughing, managing to contain the tears of emotion that wanted to escape your eyes.

"But you almost were..."

"Attention, girls!" Ms. Melanie, the owner of the agency, entered the models' dressing room, clapping her hands and making a fuss to draw everyone's attention to her.

"What happened?" You asked confused. "Any problems with the catwalk?"

"Satan save me from this happening, bitch." She retorted. "I came to tell you that my business partner brought a very important guest today, so it's best for you guys to continue with your jobs that you make a good impression on him."

"Wait, who exactly is 'he'?" Liana asked.

"No one important, just the most powerful being in all of Hell." She responded sarcastically, which made you all gasp in surprise.

"Lucifer?" Lauren asked, still surprised. "I don't think I've ever seen him in person."

"Well, people say he's very handsome in person." Reina commented between giggles.

"Really?" Danila asked with a smile. "I hope I get to see him."

"Yes, he's handsome as fuck, but you're not being paid to make goggle eyes to him, so just focus on doing your job." MS. Melanie warned sternly.

"Yes, ma'am." Lauren and Danila nodded obediently.

You were lucky you've never seen the King of Hell in person or through photos. You didn't make a point of wanting to know about the person who probably put your own species on the margins of Hell's society.

You probably wouldn't recognize him so you wouldn't be nervous.

Lucifer sat in the seat reserved for him in the front row and put on his sunglasses, knowing that the lights from the audience would bother his eyes.

Fashion shows weren't really his idea of fun, but he decided he would at least try to entertain himself at that event.

"Oh, that's one of my best dresses." Velvette whispered in his ear as the first model walked in and walked down the catwalk.

"It's definitely very beautiful." He commented, scratching the itch inside his ear that was caused by that whisper.

You waited anxiously for your turn. Even with all your nervousness, you felt a good feeling filling your chest, it was finally your turn to shine.

You walked until you were visible to the audience and struck a pose, only seeing the flashes of the cameras that were taking many photos of you, the lights that illuminated all over the catwalk made you only see partially.

Resting one hand on your waist, you walked down the catwalk, feeling that everyone's eyes were on you.

The moment he laid eyes on you, the bored expression on Lucifer's face slowly softened. It would never have crossed his mind that he would find something that would catch his eye at that fashion show.

The King felt overwhelmed by feelings he never thought he could ever feel again. There was something about you that was beyond his understanding, but for the first time in so many years, he felt his heart beat faster for someone.

When he realized it, he was already completely fascinated by everything about you, from your elegant walk, to the curved shape of your body, your penetrating gaze, your lips, tail, horns, hair and even the reddish tone of your skin.

He had to take off his glasses so he could see you better.

"Who is the girl?" He asked Velvette, yearning for an answer.

"I have no idea." The overlord replied in an uninterested tone of voice. "She must be a new model that was recently chosen. I must say that she is very beautiful, despite being an imp."

"It doesn't matter." He murmured. Even though you had already left the catwalk, your beautiful image was still engraved in his memory like a photograph. But even so, he didn't wanted, he needed to see you again. "I want that girl."

[the-offside-rule]

Lance Stroll (Aston Martin) - Stay Away

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n is landos sister and Lance takes an interest to her but Labdo doesn't like it at all

Warnings: cursing, asshole Lando

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Y/n Norris walked into the paddock of Monza with her brother Lando. Y/n hadn't been to one of Lando's races since his rookie season and not even due to covid because she kept getting asked to come but she was just too busy but since she now lived in Italy for school, she didnt mind going to Monza. The paddock had changed a fair bit since she last came here and so had she. For example, she really fell out of love with the sport, it just got boring at times. "So, it's all changed a fair bit since last year. There's sanitisation stations everywhere and you can't go to visit George or Alex when you feel like it. You've got to stay put and keep your mask on, only take it off when you're eating or up on the terrace away from everyone, got it?" Lando started by explaining the new rules of the paddock to his sister. "Okay, okay. I figured that's what the rules would be anyway.  They're the same everywhere in Italy." Y/n said un bothered. Lando swung his arm around her shoulders and laughed. "Ah come on, you're back at races now! Better than staying in a boring art school." Y/n slapped her brothers arm away and rolled her eyes. "I'd much prefer being in class but you know, the pandemic."

They landed up at the security gate, and Lando went and scanned in that he was there. "Excuse me?" Lando and Y/n looked up to the security guard with his phone in hand. They both knew he'd ask for a photo. "Lando, could I get a photo please?" Lando smiled and nodded at the guard before he moved in closer and posed at the camera. "Thank you much." the guard said before letting Lando through. He turned to Y/n and arched a brow. She wasn't wearing any merch, any FIA clothing and didn't look like a fan at all. "And who are you?" the security guard asked. Y/n squinted her eyes in annoyance. "I'm his sister you-" Lando snapped her pass from her hands and scanned it before going to tell her off. "My little sister. See ya later mate." Lando practically dragged Y/n away before she caused a scene. "Try not to curse at the fans." Lando said, making his sister groan and walk on. "I just want to sit in the grand stands instead of here. Some of you drivers can be insufferable." She mumbled. "I'm your brother, it's my job to be insufferable now come on."

Y/n sat on a chair in the lounge with her headphones in. She tried to draw something but everything inside was too normal, anyone could have this stuff in their homes or go out onto a street and find it. She groaned and stood up, collecting her things to find Lando to tell him she'd be going. She checked every room and there was no sign until tmshe sat at the terrace and saw him eating with his PR team, probably going over what to say in interviews. "Lando?" He looked up and saw his sister walking towards him. "Yeah? What's going on?" he asked, eating another spoonful of food. "I'm going to the stands, before the F2 cars come out. Is that okay?" Y/n asked Lando with her sketchpad and pencils in hand. Lando, still chewing on his breakfast nodded and brought a napkin to his mouth. "Sure, I don't see a problem with that." He replied, muffled. "Okay, I'll be back after, don't worry." and with that, Y/n walked out of the McLaren hospitality lounge.

Y/n sat in the stands, listening to the drivers getting their final calls to the cars before the F2 race commenced. Her pencil flicked about the page, shaping the world around her into art. It was in someway peaceful. She liked it, away from everyone. "Oh, hey." Y/n looked up and saw a guy in a purple and pink shirt and puffy hair. "Oh hey." She replied. "You're Y/n. Remember me at all?" he asked. Y/n nodded and gave a small smile. "You're Lance Stroll. I remember seeing you racing one weekend and then Barcelona last year. Lando wasn't exactly thrilled with you." Lance laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. So what are you doing in the stands?" he asked. "I just don't want to be in anyone's way. Besides, formula 2 is on now. It's a good place to watch from." Lance smiled again and looked back at the formula 2 cars going by. "You enjoy racing much?" Lance asked trying to keep a conversation running. Y/n let out a sigh and tried to think of an answer hat wouldn't offend the driver so settled for something pretty...well, I'll let you decide. "I mean, it's alright. Some drivers are overrated." She said. Lance smiled. "What am I?" Y/n looked at his and set her sketchpad down. "Underrated. I'm sure you'll get a podium soon enough." She said. That always helped Lando get hyped to preapre for a race. "Really?" Lance didn't have much people to tell him that. He wasn't in a podium car for a long time so podiums weren't going to be expected for a while. "I'd say so."

They sat together, taking in the sounds of the engines for a few more moments before Lance looked over and saw her drawing again. "You draw?" Lance asked. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "What are you drawing now?" Lance turned his head a bit to see what she was sketching and saw a little sketch of the paddock, pretty accurate. "Wow. You're really good." Y/n felt her cheeks heat up. Not many people saw her draw, she only really showed people in her art class. "Thanks. I love drawing. I can draw whatever I want and you can't be wrong." Lance liked that perception she had on art. You couldn't be wrong. That's a good way to look at it. No one can tell you how to do it, it's all down to how you interpret it. "I like art." He blurted out. "Really?" she asked surprised. Lance ran with what he said and nodded. "Yeah, I really like how the colours...mix." Y/n chuckled and appreciated his effort to keep a conversation. "Can I draw you?" she asked. Lance was caught off guard. He didn't expect to be drawn today. "I mean, sure. If you want to." She smiled and turned to a new page to begin sketching.

"Do you want me to pose?" Lance asked. "You ask a lot of questions." Y/n commented. Lance sucked a but of his lip in. "I don't know if that's a good thing." He admitted. "Well, my mother told me that asking questions is a sign of intelligence so I'd take it as a compliment." Lance sat back in his chair, an arm resting on a few tops of the seats. He listened to the barely audible pencil scratching off the sheet of paper and counted the cars passing. Say something Lance. For God's sake, say something! "So, how long have you been drawing for?"

"I've been drawing since a kid but I saw it as a career when my teacher brought it up when I was looking for a university." Y/n replied. Lance felt his eyes want to look back at her. "What music do you have on?" he asked. Y/n looked up and lifted an airbus out. "Whatever comes up. I'm not picky about music." She said. Lance nodded again. "Mind if I listen?" Y/n handed an earbud to Lance and went back to listening to the music, Lance joining in. They both bopped their heads along with the music, both enjoying each other's presence.

Time passed and Formula 2 had finished at this point. Lance took the earbud out and looked over to Y/n. "I gotta get going. Our race is going to be in an hour." He said, going to stand up. "No, wait!" Lance felt a hand on his wrist, trying to pull him down a bit. "I'm nearly done, just one second. Please." Lance gave in pretty easily and sat back down, allowing her to do the final touches of the drawing before she smiled at her masterpiece. "Okay, ready?" she asked. Lance nodded his head before she turned the sketchpad around and showed him the drawing proudly. Lance felt his lips curling into a smile as he saw almost a reflection looking out onto the track. "Damn, that's really good. I've never looked better." Lance laughed, looking a little bit closer. "Yeah well, I enjoyed drawing you so." Y/n began to rip the drawing out carefully to give it to him. "Why did you enjoy drawing me? You could have finished that drawing of the pits." Lance questioned, looking out at the paddock. "Well, not everyone can get a Lance Stroll in front of them. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity." She explained. "Once in a lifetime unless we meet again." Lance was a bit surprised at what he'd said. It's like his mind didn't think about what he was going to say. "Yeah, well I'll see if I can get to Anymore races. I'll for sure be telling you when I'm going. You're a good man to draw." Neither knew what to say after that. They were both lost for words.

"What is going on here?" Lando's voice echoed around the stand, making both of them look over to the McLaren driver walking towards them with George behind, a toothy grin upon his face. "Looks like a love fest mate." George joked. "Oh you two are so fucking hilarious, aren't you? No, I was just making friends." Y/n said standing up. "With Lance? Have you watched what he's been doing to me while I'm racing?" he asked. Lance felt a bit disheartened at Lando's words but shut his mouth. He'd heard most of the insults before. Y/n scoffed. "Honestly I wish he'd do it more often, I love seeing you lost for words when you're also partially to blame for incidents." George cackled at Y/n's words. Lando was shocked and Lance was just as shocked. "You made her a Racing Point fan mate!" Lando said to Lance. "He didn't. I just think the Racing Point drivers are a lot more laid back than you and Carlos. You two work a mile a minute."

"Just come on! We've all got places to go!" Lando said walking away. "Just wait a second!" Y/n took her sketchpad out and wrote a quick something on the drawing before tearing it out and handing it to Lance. "Just something to remember me by." She smiled. Lance stood up and hugged her. "You'll be impossible to forget." He whispered, quiet enough for George and Lanod to not hear. "I'll see you around the paddock." She winked and walked off with Lanod, undoubtedly going to get a scolding from him. As for Lance, he watched on smiling like a love struck puppy, which didn't go unnoticed by George. "Trust me mate, you've got no chance." Lance furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?" he asked as they began walking away. "He doesn't let her go out with drivers." George replied. Lance pulled a face and asked why. "He just knows what drivers are like. He doesn't want her getting hurt. It's his little sister, so it's understandable." George continued on, explaining that many drivers like Charles, Max, even George himself had tried to win her heart but it was no use, especially when Lando was there. Lance scoffed. "Just because he breaks hearts on the daily doesn't mean the rest of us do." George laughed a bit and stopped outside the Racing Point motorhome. "Listen Lance, the easiest way to get out of this is to just stay away." George said, trying to help Lance. "I'll see you out on track." George said wavijng and walking away to his own motorhome. Lance sighed and looked down at the paper in his hand longingly. His fingers began unwrapping them and looking at the picture again but something had changed. He saw a little note on the bottom that made him smile and have hope again.

Good luck Lancelot x

[hathorneheiress]

Forgotten pictures of the past

14 years ago

The patter of running feet could be heard throughout the massive halls of Hawthorne House, as the grand walls echoed in childish laughter.

Two young boys at the age of six and five running after each other at full speed. The younger lad was ahead of the older. Mischievous green eyes sparkled as fairly flew down the halls. Dark brown hair falling into his lightly tanned face.

"You're never going to catch me!" He squealed in excitement.

"Don't be so sure." The older lad was running almost as fast as his younger brother. Steely grayish blue eyes gave him a determination like no other. Light, wavy blond hair also was flying into his perfectly chiseled face. 

Both ran on and on. Whenever the older lad seem to catch up with his brother, the other seem to get burst of speed. Making the game of tag go on longer then usual.

It wasn't until they were in one of the smaller rooms, but by no means less elegant, that the younger lad, Jameson, looked behind him to see how far his older brother, Grayson, was. Unfortunately, it caused him to trip.

 If it was any old game of tag, Grayson would have tapped Jameson. But it wasn't just any old game where the Hawthornes were concerned. And Grayson couldn't just tap Jameson. No. It involved jumping on top of him and tackling him. For a moment they rolled around the ground, grappling for control.

Grayson won.

With Grayson on top, they had a silent staring contest. Mentally daring the other to look away. Grayson lost this time.

As ever the Gentleman, Grayson reached down and helped his brother up.

"You can't tag me again." He insisted. "You know the rules. You can only tag the same person two times before finding someone else. I've been tagged twice. And by you!" Grayson explained. "Go find Xander or Nash."

"Well, I don't know where they are." Jameson whined.

"Not my problem." Grayson insisted. "You can't tag me again."

"Fine." Jameson huffed. "I'm sure Xander is in the kitchen. That should be easy."

Grayson watched as Jameson ran out in full speed. Maybe he should hide? He thought. So my brothers don't find me.

As he was contemplating this thought, he happened to glance out the window, overlooking the well kept garden.

Sitting in a white basket chair and dressed in a flowery summer dress was his mother, Skye. He didn't know why, but he could feel the breath in his throat catch. There was something about her. She looked so beautiful. So pretty.

As he was silently admiring his mother's beauty, he noticed she was posing for a painter. No wonder she dressed her best. Not that she didn't, mind you.

It was then that he realized he wanted to capture it to. For himself.

Quickly running to another room, he knew what he needed: a pencil and paper. 

It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for. Quickly he jumped back into the chair. Leaning over the desk, his eyes scanned over his mother's figure.

He was no professional drawer by any means, but he was very talented and he was a Hawthorne. And a Hawthorne was expected to extraordinary, even at the tender age of six.

Taking the pencil in his hand he began to slowly and methodically draw the outline. He barely knew he was doing but didn't care. It was oddly relaxing.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Skye was done. Unfortunately, Grayson wasn't. But it was ok, because he had most of outline down. You could tell it was Skye.

A sense of pride came over him. Had he really just done that? It looked so real and life-like. The plain paper was becoming a masterpiece.

He was carefully adding the waves to the hair when Jameson came running up beside him. "Gray," he said breathlessly, "it's dinner time."

"I'll be just minute." 

"We need to be there now. The old man said to get your butt down here." Then Jameson noticed what his brother was doing. "That's nice." he said softly. Before Grayson could register his brother's uncharacteristic niceties, Jameson was gone in a flash.

Sighing, he purposely set his pencil down and quickly made his to the massive dining room. Everyone was already seated.

Trying to fade in, Grayson solemnly took his seat. He knew he was late, and he knew the old man knew he was late. And Grayson wasn't allowed to be late.

No one said anything, but he knew from the brief look his grandfather gave him they would talk later. There was surely going to be a consequence for his tardiness.  

The old man finished first. Grayson could feel the old man's eyes on him as he rose from the table. 

"Grayson." he said, his voice neither harsh or gentle.

Grayson met his grandfather's eyes. "Yes sir?"

"When you are done meet me in the small sitting room int he west wing. You know what I am talking about."

Grayson knew exactly what he meant. "Yes sir." he acknowledged.

Any appetite he had instantly disappeared. Five minutes he discretely excused himself. With a knot in his stomach, he made his way up to the room, taking the secret passageway. Cracking open the swinging bookcase he saw his grandfather standing near a burning fireplace. He watched in silent horror as he saw the old man throw a piece of paper in the fire. No doubt the picture he had drawn and sketched by his own hands.

A part of Grayson wanted to run away, going to go sob into his bed. But he didn't. Even at six, he was raised to be the best, emotionless being his grandfather wished. 

Confidently, like he hadn't seen what had just happened, he pushed opened the secret door. "You wished to see me." 

The old man turned. "I did. Come here." Grayson silently obeyed.  "You know why I called you up here, right?"

Grayson nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I was late." He looked down. 

Tobias took his grandson's chin in his hand, lifting it up till Grayson's eyes met his. "I don't ever want that to happen again. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

Tobias's eyes watched the burning fire before them. "Remember son, just like this fire, the choices you make can either reward you with warmth or destroy you completely. It's up to you which one you will choose."

Without saying another word, Tobias walked away, leaving Grayson alone. For almost 5 minutes he didn't even move. He had failed, again. He was supposed to be the best, but he let his own desires get the better of him. 

Present day:

Avery stared at the huge desk before her. Tobias had been larger then life, and so was his desk. Avery was sure she had searched every inch of it. Looking for clues to be discovered. But there was one draw she seemed to have overlooked.

She didn't realize there was a secret draw, though she shouldn't have been surprised. She was searching for some paper Alisa, her lawyer, said she had. Even though didn't remember having it.

He sharp brain noticed the draw wasn't as big as it looked. That when it dawned on her there was another secret draw underneath it. It didn't take long to unmask it.  

Peering in, she saw more things that got to see what a man Tobias Hawthorne man was. Old pipes, an empty whisky cup, papers with riddles scrawled on. She was getting ready to look over them when something tucked at the back caught her eye.

A simple framed picture frame. Turning it over, Avery gasped. Inside was a drawn picture of a woman. The artist captured the waves of the woman's hair. The round face, long eyelashes, half smile half smirk on the face. It was beautiful.

And the woman was no other than Skye Hawthorne.

Just then Jameson Hawthorne walked in. "Heiress, Alsia is bugging me to come see if you found the paper." He smirked as he snuggled up to her. "What's you got?"

She handed him the frame. "That's Skye."

"It is. Where did you find it?"

Avery showed him.

"Hmm." Jameson looked at it better. "It looks familiar, but I'm not sure how."

Avery shrugged. 

"Wait!" Jameson said, "I think remember. But it can't be."

"What?" 

"It was so long ago but I remember there was this one time Skye was getting her picture painted outside. And Grayson was drawing her from a room upstairs. I never saw it after and I assumed Gray hid it away. Not the old man."

"Well. there is one way to solve this." Avery got up. 

They found Grayson sitting in his office. Papers, pens, and an empty coffee cup beside him. He ached his eyebrow but said nothing as they walked in.

"Avery found something and we want to show you." Jameson got straight to the point.

Avery handed Grayson the frame. "Do you remember that?"

She watched as Grayson took the frame. He hardly ever showed emotion, but she could see the look of surprise on his face. "Where did you find this?" he asked hoarsely.

"A secret compartment in the old man's desk. I guess he was keeping it."

"I thought you kept it." Jameson said.

Grayson shook his head. "The old man destroyed it. Or so I thought."

Avery was outraged.  "Why would he do that?!"

Grayson looked at Jameson instead. "Do you remember how I was late for dinner that one time?"

"Of course I remember. It was the day Skye got her picture painted. She was throwing a fit the whole day because it wasn't going as she wanted it to."

Grayson nodded and swallowed. "Well, the old man made sure I was never late again for dinner. I thought he burnt it."

"But he didn't." Avery said. "Which means whatever happened with you being late, he still admired what you drew. And so should you." She then noticed a screw sticking out from the wall.

She hung the frame up. "There," she declared "out where everyone can see it. Not hidden anymore. But we should get going, because ironically, dinner is almost ready and Alisa will have our hides if don't get down there."

Smiling, she locked an arm around Jameson and one around Grayson, leaving the room and the forgotten picture of the past.

[blaperile]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon (reactions pages 554- 576)

Wow, that was quite a heavy update.

I love that we finally got some insight into Yiffy's personality! Feels like she got a lot from Rose there, haha.

Too bad we still don't have dialogue from her yet though, I wonder when we'll get that honour.

But yikes, that tension between Kanaya, Rose and Jade. When Kanaya started putting on her lipstick I got REALLY afraid that the lipstick was going to turn into her chainsaw and that she was going to attack Jade with it. Good thing that didn't happen.

Rose and Kanaya's relationship has gone through a lot across both Meat and Candy!

What's drawing my attention MOST OF ALL though is that shot of Jade's captchalogue card!!

That's clearly a hand with stitches on it… which heavily implies it to be a STUFFED CORPSE. :o

We know Jade and her Grandpa had quite a history with stuffing corpses, so this immediately makes you wonder… whose corpse is this? And just what is the Homestuck Beyond Canon team planning on doing with it?

The most obvious candidate is Candy Dave's corpse! He recently died, from Jade's perspective, and she was most likely the first one to find his corpse. So if her old mannerisms surfaced again, perhaps she immediately stuffed him?

It's kind of a strange pose for this hand, but maybe his corpse is still lying in about the same pose Jade found him in?

If they all end up in a new SBURB session, does this mean we're going to get a new Davesprite???

And what impact would it have on Davebot, if any? Seeing as it's technically Candy Dave's consciousness (in ultimate self form) inhabiting the robot, would it be pulled from the robot into the sprite and cause the robot to explode (just like Aradia experienced when she went God Tier)?

Even the "WEE WOO" text beneath the panel is heavily implying this, using red and orange text, much like Dave and Davesprite's text colors.

An alternate interesting theory raised by abundantChewtoys is that it's Candy Dirk's corpse. I don't think it's very likely considering that they had a funeral for him and all, but it would be another notable corpse here in the candy timeline Jade could technically get her hands on AND it also fits with the text colors (Dirk's orange and Arquiusprite's red).

Finally another excellent point abundantChewtoys raised is that this update made sure to point out that Rose never buried her Mom. But then what DID happen to her body? Was it left on the Battlefield?

I may recall John or pre-retcon Jade having mentioned that they had a funeral for the dead Guardians on the 3-year trip on the Prospitian battleship? I might be remembering that wrong though. I can't find it with the search function, so my mind might be making it up.

But in any case, post-retcon Jade was ALONE on the ship, she had no John or Davesprite with her. So, knowing her family history, it's POSSIBLE she stuffed the corpses of John's Dad and Rose's Mom (and Dave's Bro?)… and that she still has those corpses with her?!

Anyway, most likely it's "just" Candy Dave's corpse, but it's hilarious to think of the other possibilities as well. At least we know for sure it's not a troll corpse considering the white human-like hand, hahahahaha.

I also just want to point out that this green captchalogue card implies this to be Jade's Pictionary modus… which would mean Jade had to DRAW the corpse to captchalogue it… think about that for a minute. Yikes. :(

It's interesting how in both Meat and Candy we currently have someone holding onto a dead corpse (Terezi holding on to John's body and Jade hanging on to this mysterious body who may or may not be Dave). Where is this leading? New Sprites in a SBURB session or something else entirely?

Finally I just want to talk about James Roach his newpost, where he hints one or more [S] pages are upcoming a few months from now!!!

I'm VERY excited about that, but also very curious what it could be about…

Ever since this new creative team took over we've got plenty of updates which seem to be building up to everyone heading to the Plot Point at the meteor. So are we going to get an [S] page featuring an epic confrontation between Jane and the rebels at the meteor, tying up everything that's happened so far in Candy and ending this "Act"?

Maybe that same page will also be the one to finally reveal what the Plot Point truly is. Is it some kind of portal (like from Hiveswap) to the Meat timeline or is it something else entirely?

My mind has been going crazy on theorizing and imagining where this could be going.

If everyone is gathering on the meteor and the Plot Point will activate then and there, what if it will somehow transport the entire meteor to the Meat timeline and have it go to Deltritus??

That would be an absolutely crazy but also amazing way to merge the Meat and Candy storylines into one.

Alternatively, I would find it hilarious if the Candy meteor transports to Meat Earth and it turns out that Calliope and Caliborn grew up there in the distant future (making it a combination of Candy and Meat, which is an appropriate symbol for both Cherubs).

[jeanmoreaux]

hi friend! wanted to ask you smthn

ive been thinking and wondering why Snow didn't have Katniss (and everyone she loves) killed outright honestly or staged it somehow.

i'm remembering how Haymitch won and i still don't see it as a way of 'mocking' the capital. but Katniss' stunt with the berries was far more openly rebellious to me as a reader yet Snow sat on this decision to take care of her but murdered Haymitch's family within 2 weeks

im just contemplating hmmmm was it because others were already rebelling as well and if he took her out ASAP then it might've just added fuel to the fire ?

you got me wanting to revisit the series!!!! curse you (affectionately)!!!!!! i need to find a thesis topic send help OTL

hi there! well, you're definitely right in your assessment that haymitch's defiance was less inflammatory in the grand scheme of things. idk if you have read tbosas but i think that book gives you a good idea of how snow is not just obsessed with power but also control. and haymitch doing what he did took some of the capitol's control over the narrative of what makes a victor. it wasn't that he won because he proved himself to be the stronger, more ruthless fighter. he won because he was smart. and while you can easily manipulate a victor who wins the games on the capitol's terms (and is basically a capitol drone), a victor who defies this traditional victor narrative and uses the capitol's weapons against them poses much more of a threat (at least in snow's eyes). and i think, at least to a degree, snow was worried that if given a chance, victors like haymitch would use their status to rally people behind them. so he made an example of him. he didn't have to kill all of haymitch's loved ones, but he did. simply to show that he can. (not just show haymitch but every living victor and all the victors to come.) in the end, i don't think that it had much to do with haymitch and everything to do with the possibility of what some like haymitch could represent. the kind of stories you could spin around someone like haymitch.

and then katniss comes around, and unlike haymitch, she isn't reaped. she volunteers for her little sister—a blond, pretty little thing that half of panem becomes enamoured with over the course of katniss's games. the people do not just fall in love with prim, they also fall in love with katniss, the girl that keeps showing a lot of compassion for the people around her. and she does draw attention with that. people know her. people support her. oh and what a story she makes! oh what a narrative! the girl who volunteered! the girl on fire! and then she does the most rebellious thing by pulling out the poisonous berries and threatening the victor narrative that has been so carefully established over the years. the girl with the berries! she flips the script in the most radical way, and if she didn't have all of panem's eyes on her before, she does now. and the people look at her and her compassion and begin to stir. they begin to see that change is possible, so they rebel. you mentioned it already, but killing her AFTER the stunt with the berries was impossible. not just because people would have known why and by whom she was killed, but because it would have added fuel to the fire. snow, much like coin later on, realises that the rebellion will only co-opt her image and make her a martyr. snow definitely sees that katniss alive can be used in a way that can potentially help his cause, whereas katniss dead will always gonna end up helping the rebels in their cause. and killing katniss's mother might have been possible without raising many questions, but killing prim? no way he could have had her killed without making people suspicious. there is also a big chance that the rebels would have co-opted prim's death as well (or at least bank on the suspicions swaying some people). and without her family, how would snow have anything to control katniss with?

and the thing is. while haymitch was an incovenience he was never a real threat. not the way katniss is. killing haymitch's family was a means to an end, but nothing more. snow didn't need to control him beyond making him fall in line because haymitch had absolutely no social power to rival snow's. but katniss has. she has many of the district citizens at her back. and the only way to contain her (in snow's eyes) is to hold the threat of hurting her loved ones over her head. take that away and snow has nothing to stop her from leaning into the role the rebellion has assigned her. which is also why he doesn't kill peeta in mockingjay. again, with peeta gone there would be nothing holding katniss back from working with the rebels.

the social power that haymitch and katniss wielded after their respective games is basically what makes all the difference (in my opinion). and that's why, with katniss, snow's hands were tied by circumstance (in a way). retaliating against her directly (either by harming her or by harming her family) would have resulted in more problems than solutions, while killing haymitch's family & girlfriend was a quick and efficient way to stop an inconvenient victor in his tracks AND use him as an example that saves snow the time to put every victor in their place individually. in a cruel way, haymitch simply had bad luck on top of his bad luck.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Undercover ~ Ten ~ Not A Goodbye

Pairings: Jake Jensen and OFC Samantha Matthews

The Losers have made it back to their families and are out. Well, almost. A threat against the British crown needs to be handled and the CIA has tapped the Losers for one final mission. And they are sending in Jensen.

Jake Jensen hasn't been a civilian in years but now he's undercover to find out why his target is where he is and who he's after.

Enter Sam, someone who Jake doesn't expect and well, he didn't know he was looking for.

Can Jake handle his mission and falling in love? Especially when the truth leads to a bigger mission than expected?

*~* A Jake Jensen Story *~*

Author's note: this story continues after the events of the Losers. I may weave other characters into it but they are all minor. THE TAGLIST IS OPEN.

The playlist is available on Spotify.

cover photo by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst, death, smut, and a bunch of stuff a can’t say because it gives away the plot!

Previous: Nine ~ Princess

Story Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Optimistic should have been Jake’s middle name. Always looking on the bright side of things, Jake knew that there was always a solution for every problem.  There wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed.  

Except this.  

Sam.  

Her Royal Highness, The Duchess of Manchester.  

His princess.  

He didn’t know how to solve this.  Her life was in danger, their separation inevitable. She was special, regardless of the feelings she had, which made this difficult. As he held the sleeping princess in his arms, Jake couldn’t help but wonder how they, as a couple, would survive.  He had planned on making this girl his wife, the mother of his children.  

To grow old with her.  

His heart clenched.   

He couldn’t lose her.  

Sam began to stir and blink slowly. She felt the warmness of Jake’s body and she smiled.  She kissed his chest and snuggled into him more.  “Morning Princess.”  

“Morning Jakey.”  

Jake drew circles around Sam’s back, trying to figure out how to say what needed to be said.  He went with direct. “Clay messaged. He wants us to move to another safe house.”  Sam sat up slowly. “Babe?” 

“Why?” She frowned, concern crossing her face.  

“It’s a precautionary thing.”  Jake smoothed her hair back. “We need to keep you safe.” She pouted and he laughed softly. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you are safe. Its non-negotiable so don’t argue. We also have to explain who you are.”  

“Since when have you been so bossy?” 

“Since you let me wreck your body.”  He kissed her forehead before heading into the bathroom. “Up princess.  Clay and the rest of the team will be here in an hour.  I’ll make some breakfast.”  

An hour later and everyone was in the living room of the safe house. After an explanation of her lineage and title, the team sat quietly for a moment. Clay was the first to recover. “So, your highness...” Clay started but was quickly interrupted.  

“No, call me Sam or Samantha.” She crossed her arms and pouted.  “Fucks sake, I’m still me.”  

Clay offered a half smile.  “Sorry, Sam, our intelligence is pointing out that another attack will be attempted soon. We’re not 100% sure that they don’t know you’re here, so we’d like to move you and Jake as soon as possible.”  

“If you’re not sure then...” 

“Because we don’t want to take the risk,” Jake answered.  “This isn’t just about you being the heir.  Fitzgerald is obsessed with YOU. Not just the crown.” He kissed her hand.  “Our job is to protect you and if Clay thinks we need to move, then we do it.”  

Sam looked at the team who all had the same look.  She resigned to her fate.  “Fine.  How does this work?” 

“We have another safehouse about 100 miles from here. Its actually within a city so its harder to attack without drawing attention. Once night falls, you, Jake and I will take the car and head out.  Cougar and Pooch will cause a distraction with Aisha posing as you.  Hopefully that will draw Fitzgerald and his team away from the direction we are heading.”  

Sam turned to Aisha.  “Are you sure?  They might try and kill you.” 

“They need you so they won’t harm me,” Aisha said with confidence.  “If they capture me, and that’s a big if, Cougar and Pooch can get me out.  I’ll have a tracker on and everything.”  

“And we’ll just drive away as if nothing is happening?” Sam looked at Clay.  

“The first rule in running is walk, don’t run.  If we drive like bats out of hell, we’re just drawing attention to ourselves.  Just like you use a simple common name, no one is the wiser. Same concept.”  

“What happens after move?” 

Jake swallowed hard.  “Then we reach out to the royal protection team and see what they want to do.  Your father and brother are being kept in the loop and they will decide with the Royal Guard what the next best step will be.”  

“And they are keeping us together, right?” Sam looked hopefully at Jake but not seeing the same in his face. “JJ?” 

“I don’t know, princess.” He watched her face crumple, and he pulled her into his arms. “I’m going to do everything I can to keep us together, ok?” She nodded and tried to compose herself.  Jake looked at Clay. “What is Hart saying?” 

“That we need to keep the princess safe at all cost. And we will Jensen, we’ll keep both of you safe.”  

Across town, John Fitzgerald studied photos with a smile.  It was dumb of Hart to use American Black Ops. Once he did the search on Jake Jensen, he recognized Clay and did a deep dive.  Now that he knew who was the brains of the operation, he thought like his opponet.  

“Clay wouldn’t move her in broad daylight.  He would know we are looking,” he told his team.  “No, he’ll wait for darkness to move the princess.” 

“How many team members?” One of his soldiers asked.  

“I have my count at five. But,” he raised a finger, “one of them is involved with Her Royal Highness so he will be guarding her as well.”  

“Would he aim for an isolated home or somewhere with more civilians?”  

“My guess would be isolation,” Fitzgerald thought out loud. “Easier to fortified and protect.  Bring up any real estate holdings in the area.”  Another man entered in data and put it up on a screen for Fitgerald to review.  He saw one on the outskirts of the next town over.  “That one.  We’ll set up a team on the road to that one to capture and detain the princess.  She is not to be harmed.”  

“Do you want to plan if they head to the city?” 

“Put a couple of guys out on the road.”  He shrugged. “Its not Clay’s style; I’m not worried about it.”  

“You got it boss.”  

“Stop,” he barked as the men began to move.  “Let me make myself perfectly clear. If she is harmed, one hair out of place, it is your life. Her Royal Highness is very important to our employer, and I would hate to lose any of you. But I won’t have a problem putting a bullet in your head.”  

Sam packed up the items that Aisha had packed for her. Bowie sat on the open end of the suitcase, swishing her tail back and forth as she watched. When Aisha had brought in the cat in that morning, Sam had cried.  She thought the feline was lost to the attack, her only constant besides Jake.  

She didn’t want to lose him, her Jake. Her knight in nerdy armor. He had been quiet today, working with Clay to secure the routes the team would take.  She needed to speak to him, make promises to him. Because there was no way she would take the risk of losing him.  He was everything to her.  

“Princess?” She looked up to see her favorite pair of blue eyes. “Are you hungry?” She shook her head and he sighed. “Sweetheart, you haven’t eaten since yesterday. You need to keep your strength up.”  

“I’m just not hungry JJ. I’m so nervous and I keep wanting to throw up.” Sam stared at the floor. “What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out.” Jake pulled her into his arms and rocked her.  He felt her start to even out her breath and he looked down to see her asleep.  He put her on the bed, Bowie curling around her head, and he pulled the covers over her. “I love you Sam.” He kissed her head and left the room. 

Clay was pouring over the plans and photos. “She ok?” 

“She’s ok. It’s a lot for her.” Jake leaned against the counter. “Fuck, I’m tired.”  

“You should sleep too, Jensen.” When he doesn’t move, Clay studied his friend. “What’s on your mind?” 

“She’s gonna have to go back to England, right?” Jensen’s voice was low, sullen.  

“Possibly.” Clay waited. “Jake, you know she would be safer with her family, right?” 

“Would she?” Jake looked at his commanding officer. “I’ve never felt like this Colonel. I don’t exactly know how I can tell her that I want us to stay together even though her life is in danger.  How do I let her go?” 

“Would you go with her?” 

“If I thought it was an option, to marry her, in a heartbeat. But she’s literally royalty and I looked it up.  She isn’t allowed to marry without her father’s permission.”  

“How do you know you won’t get it?” 

“I overheard her conversation, and he sounds pretty pissed I almost let her get kidnapped.  He hates me.”  Jake slumps down to the floor. “She’s everything I ever wanted. And I’m scared I’m gonna lose her.” 

“Jake, I know I don’t have the healthiest of relationships but if you and Sam are truly meant to be, this will all work out in the end.”  

Jake tightens the vest around Sam’s torso. “Even if you are shot in the vest, it will hurt,” Jake warned. “But, it will stop almost anything.”  

“Ok,” she whispered.  

“If Clay or I tell you to run or duck or anything, I need you to listen and do it.”  

“Jake,” she whispered.  

Jake ignored her. “Bowie will be ok for now here so don’t worry about her. When it's safe, we’ll bring her to you.  There is plenty of food and water for her for a few days.”  

“Jake, please. We have to say it.”  

“No.”  

“Jacob...” 

“Samantha, No,” Jake closed his eyes.  “It's not goodbye, ok? We're gonna get you to the safe house and regroup and plan out what to do next but this is not goodbye ok?” His voice cracked a little. “I love you.”  

“I love you too.”  

Clay walked in as the two held each other.  “Its time.”  

“Everything is going to be ok, princess.”  Jake kisses her forehead.  

They walk out to the car, Jake taking point and Clay right behind.  They get into the car and start to head out of town. 

“Bravo team, we are on the move,” Clay says in his ear piece.  

“Roger Alpha team. We are heading to our destination well.” 

“Copy.”  

Jake drives calmly, trying not to draw attention to themselves.  “Colonel, I don’t see any issues.” 

“Keep going Jensen, stay the path.”  Clay looks around.  He sees a flash of metal. “Get down!” 

Jake shoves Sam’s head to her knees as he picks up speed.  “Shit!” Glass breaks above her head.  

“Alpha team, we are taking fire!” 

“So are we, abort to your safe house, I repeat abort to safe house!” Clay looks around.  “Jensen, abort current trajectory and take us to the embassy.”  

“The British Embassy?” 

Clay thinks for just a second.  “No, FBI headquarters.  Now.”  Clay pulls Sam into the back seat.  “Stay on the floor Sam, do not pull your head up.”  

“Ok,” she says shakily. “Jake?” 

“I’m ok princess, just do as he says, ok?” Jake concentrates as he weaves around traffic.  “We’ve got about six miles.”  

“Bravo team, status?” 

“We made it to the safe house.  They saw that Aisha was not Sam and they left us.”  

“Fuck! Ok, we are head to the FBI. I’ll send instructions once we are inside.”  

“Copy.”  

Jensen drives, the tension filling the air.  As they approach the building, a car comes out of no where almost hitting the car,  Jake swerves but more shots ring out. “Fuck!” Jake yells.  

“Jake!” 

“Stay down Samantha!  Fuck! Colonel, I was hit.”  Jake grits his teeth.  “Fuck they shot me!” 

Clay puts pressure as they reach the gate, the other vehicles peeling off as agents return fire on the vehicles.  Jake stops. “Captain Jake Jensen, US special forces.  I have Colonel Clay and Her Royal Highness, the Duchess of Manchester in the back seat.”  

The gates open and Jake rolls in.  “Sam, are you ok?” 

“I’m ok.” 

“Good. Good.”  

And Jake passes out. 

NEXT

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[the-fiction-witch]

The mademoiselle P3

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Adorable!

Warnings: Amputation / 1800's surgery / ether/ body horror

I couldn't help but move an ottoman over to sit on, and I looked closely at the amputation, I had been done... terribly, even just from this look I could tell this must have caused her agony even before weight bearing, the skin overstretched and warped, the thread used to sew up the amputation had never been removed, skin partly healed around it, it wasn't even surgical thread it was twine! fraying and splintering as old twine does, 

"what on gods earth-" I muttered bringing a candle closer to better see what fucked up nonsense was happening here, "Who did this!"

"A clown."

"Yeah, I think he was,"

"No, he really...really was."

"He was a clown?"

"Yes."

"An actual... actual clown!"

"Yes."

"Uhhhh you mind telling me what happened?"

"It's a very long story. I was in an accident and he was the only person nearby with any form of training and here we are." She explained, 

"Okay, I take it it's causing you more pain than usual?"

"Yes doctor, I can barely walk let alone perform." 

"well that's certainly no good, I've heard of the magic of your performances. Wouldn't want to deprive anyone of that."

She blushed a little, "Well is there anything you can do doctor?"

"Uhh... I can give you some painkillers they should help your walking but If I may be so bold, I think it would be wise to have a doctor really look it over, when was the last time someone looked at it?"

"When it was done."

"Which was?"

"Twelve years ago." 

"Alright, tomorrow come up to the hospital and I'll take a real proper look see what's going on. you sure it hasn't had any other work in that time?"

"Mild stuff, cutting back skin, infection control and such."

"Right, and not once has anyone suggested ... further amputation?"

"A couple of times, but I need to dance so we always just did the minimum."

"Alright, come by tomorrow whenever you can," I told her as I gave her some medicine 

"I will, thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome mademoiselle," I told her as I took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, "Have a nice evening."

"You too doctor Dawkins," she smiled, 

I took my bag and headed out filling in the paperwork as I went, as soon as I got back to my room I collapsed on my bed, I don't know why I felt so... conflicted, that I had looked at her pictures and desired her so much when... she must have been in agony to do it. I felt guilty about it, like It was my fault she was in pain. I took my box from under my bed and looked at the various postcards, I looked at her in these poses and situations and noticed how often they had her sitting down, how often the drawings stopped at her knees, or hidden by dresses, all of it to hide her away. I wanted to help her out I didn't want her to feel any more pain. 

I made sure to clean up as I knew the mademoiselle was coming in today, and soon enough Hetty came and told me I had someone here to see me. So I fixed myself up and headed into one of the small patient rooms, and saw the mademoiselle sitting on the bed with a nervous smile.

"Bonjour docteur Dawkins,"(Hello Doctor Dawkins)  She smiled,

"Bonjour mademoiselle," (Hello mademoiselle) I smiled back, "Quelle belle robe tu portes aujourd'hui," (What a beautiful dress you are wearing today) 

"merci beaucoup docteur" (Thank you very much doctor) she blushed, 

"Now, lets have a look." I told her, "if you could?"

"Alright," she sighed, sitting back on the bed and unlacing her boots letting them fall to the floor, I got my tools and had a much better look really investigating and it was worse than I suspected and I think she knew that too as the longer it went on the more grim her face got,

"You know what I'm going to say," I told her, 

"You think I need a further amputation?"

"I don't think I know." I sighed leaning on the metal bed, "I know this is a big decision with you, but if I don't do this, you are going to get worse... and you could die."

"I don't really have much of a choice do I?"

"I can't in good conscience let you go without at least letting me do an operation to pull back the skin and at least remove the twine."

"Alright, When can you do it?"

"I can get you into the surgery theatre today."

She nodded, 

"Alright, I'll make sure everything is sorted I'll get you in as soon as possible." 

I made sure to get the theatre prepped while she got some stuff delivered by her maid, And soon enough Hetty brought her in,

"Right, Up Here mademoiselle," I smiled helping her up onto the table, "Just relax I promise I'll take care of you."

"I do hope so." She nervously nodded lying on the table, 

"Okay," I nodded fetching the ether, "Just breathe gently for me, when you wake up this will all be over," I reassured her she nodded and did as I asked slowly drifting off until she was gone. "Okay... Let's do this." I told Hetty that I needed her as my nurse, I quickly got to work revealing the true situation and it was bad. The skin was stretched and infected in places, with dirt and grime under her skin, the bone had been left as a sharp splintering point as if broken by hand not cut in the amputation, 

"Oh my -" Hetty gasped,

"I know,"

"How'd it happen?"

"she wouldn't say, I don't imagine it was good," I answered, I did my best to save it but amputation was the only option so I did as low as I could just under her knee and made sure to sew it up in a way that made it look as good as I could, once I was done Hetty took her back to her room so I cleaned up and went on with my other work, After a good while I went to her room to go and check on her, seeing her sat up in the bed with a box in her lap, "Bonjour mademoiselle," 

"Hello Doctor," she said looking through her box,

"How do you feel?" I asked sitting beside her 

"Humm... Like I lost weight," she chuckled playfully glancing at her leg which made me chuckle a little, "It still hurts, which is odd. As it's not there."

"The phantom limb will fade."

"I know, I remember when they took my foot, it itched for days but it wasn't there." She said, "Thank you, doctor, most doctors I've seen just do what I ask... not what I need."

"You're very welcome." I smiled, "And uhh you can just call me Jack,"

"Alright, Jack." She smiled, "Y/n." 

"Y/n? That's a very beautiful name." 

"Thank you," She blushed, "I'm going to take a guess and say you know who I am?"

"I do. I uhhhh" I blushed, "I spent a lot of time in the navy growing up, your postcards... gave me a lot of peace then. And still do now."

she chuckled, "I'm glad I could be of such, Peace to you." She smiled gently taking my hand, I smiled and held her hand tightly, "I can't thank you enough Jack, though... I'm not sure what the future holds now."

"I wouldn't be so quick to be fearful, not much has really changed trust me... Most people won't even notice. You're far too beautiful for people to be looking at your feet."

She laughed, "I guess so. The postcards won't change that much."

"No, not really. But... I'll still look forward to seeing them. I'll pick up your next one just to show you so." I winked 

"Humm... I'll send you it special," She smiled squeezing my hand,

"How did it happen? if you don't mind my asking?"

She seemed sad but flicked through her box before she handed me a postcard with a beautiful young girl, a ballerina dancing on a stage. "I wasn't always a showgirl, That was me... Once."

"My god- You were beautiful."

"Where?"

"Are- sorry I-"

"It's alright, I spent my whole life wanting to be a dancer classically trained from three, My father worked every hour god sent just to get me into ballet school." She explained, "I was so happy when got a job at the royal opera as a ballerina."

"Impressive."

"They were talking about me like I was something special," She said, "my first tour and this one show we were out in the sticks, I went on and did my part but- the galley walkway above the stage collapsed, fell down to the stage below... By the grace of god, it fell where it did. A few inches to the left I'd be dead. But it crushed my foot" She explained, "I was losing blood so fast, my foot wrecked beyond repair. The nearest doctor ten miles away, the only person in the company who had any training... was one of the men playing a clown in the opera, He had some medical training but nothing near what was needed but- time was not on our side. So they did what they could and took my foot there and then on the stage." She explained, 

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"What happened? Once it healed?"

"I healed while the rest of the tour went on and when we returned to the opera house... They tossed me away. Said I would never dance again. Wanted nothing to do with me. So I tried everywhere else but who wants a crippled dancer. The only place that would take me was a small club in pairs, they didn't want me to dance more just... take off my clothes. So I did. Learnt the violin, learnt how to perform in shows, named myself the mademoiselle, and... I suppose the rest is history." 

"For what is worth. I think you'd have made a beautiful ballerina."

"Thank you," she blushed, "But now... I'm not sure what to make of myself, I don't even know I can be a showgirl now."

"I'd pay to see you, still."

"You would?"

"Absolutely."

"even like this?"

"I would."

"That's very sweet of you." She smiled, "But if my boss doesn't feel the same... I don't know what I'd do, or where I'd go."

"Well... Port Victory is a little place, not much goes on here, it's full of those of us with nowhere else to go. You'd always be welcome here."  

"You think I would?"

"I'm sure you would," 

"What would I do?"

"Whatever you want, I'm sure a smart girl like you would find something." I smiled giving her back her ballerina picture, 

"I'm sure I'd find something, even if I just became some...business guy's wife."

"I think you could do a lot better than that"

"You do?"

"Yeah, I mean... I think you could end up a doctor's wife." 

"You really think so?"

"j'en suis sûr mademoiselle" (I'm sure of it mademoiselle) I smiled kissing her hand, "I'll leave you to rest." I smiled getting up to head back to work,

"Thank you, Jack."

"You're welcome Y/n." 

[darkwhitevintage]

"He likes you, you like him!"

Gareth x artist!fem!reader

Contains : bullying, Jason being a dick, eddie and reader having a platonic relationship, Gareth and reader being shy, reader sticking up for herself

Y/n always carries around her notebook. Most people noticed. Especially Jason. Y/n sat by herself two tables away from the school's "freaks", doodling away in her notebook. She drew cartoon versions of the guy she's been having eyes for for a while, who's name was Gareth. She had an arm around her notebook, shielding the drawings from anyone passing by.

Eddie jumped up from his spot, yelling out his usual sayings like always. Y/n slightly jumped at the sudden noise but continued to draw. She draws various drawing of Gareth. Some where he's playing the drums, others with the guy in a suit, some containing y/n herself and Gareth kissing or hugging, and a few doing random poses. Y/n smiles at the drawings, love filling her eyes.

She was so into her drawing that she didn't hear footsteps coming near her. By now her arms relaxed to the sides of the notebook, no longer shielding it from the passing students. A hand reached for her notebook and snatches it from her reach. Y/n turns around, locking eyes with no other than Jason. "Give it back, Jason," y/n says harshly, reaching for her notebook. Jason holds it above his head. "I wonder what the quiet freak spends so much time doing," he says. By now all eyes were on the two. Including The Hellfire club.

Y/n tries to rip the notebook out of his hands, only getting pushed in the end. She groans in pain after her back hits the table. Eddie now gets up in annoyance, walking up to the situation. Jason flips through the notebook, a smile forming. "This is too good," Jason says laughing. "Who would've thought the quiet freak had a thing for the freak's friend," Jason says, causing his friend to point and laugh at y/n.

Jason throws the notebook, which unluckily for y/n, lands right on on the hellfire table. Eddie taps Jasons shoulder, causing Jason to turn almost all the way around. "Well well wh-" Jason says, getting cut off by Eddie's fist to his face. The cafeteria fills with "ooo"s. Jason gets up from the floor, swinging at Eddie, which Eddie blocks with ease. Y/n gets up from her spot. She places her hands on Eddie's shoulders and moves him back a few steps. She turns around to Jason, who was staring at her in confusion.

Y/n gives him a sarcastic grin before placing her hands on his shoulders and kicking him straight in the dick. Jason falls onto his knees in pain. "What you get," she murmurs, turning around after giving him the middle finger. "Nice!" Eddie says, rising his hands for a double high five. Unknowingly to her, by this point Gareth has seen all her doodles of himself. Jeff was teasing him, he was red-faced, and Dustin and Mike were whispering to eachother.

"Come sit with us yeah? They already have your notebook sooo," Eddie says. Y/n tenses up when she realizes Gareth saw her drawings. Y/n nods and walks with him, not paying any mind now to Jason. Y/n sat next to Eddie, which was diagonal to Gareth's seat. "Here you go, y/n," Gareth speaks up still red-faced. He hands her the notebook. "You have a thing for Gareth right Y/n?" Dustin speaks up next to her. Y/n sighs. There's no point in hiding it anymore. She nods, not looking at Gareth.

"I told you, Gareth! I knew it!" Dustin says again, standing up from his seat. Gareth and y/n look at eachother, accidently locking eyes. "Woah don't start making out right now," Eddie says, holding his hands up in surrender and leaning back. The two break the eye contact. "Y/n, Gareth likes you, and you like Gareth! Now get together!" Dustin says again. "I mean do you want to...you know.." Gareth says, his voice shaking in embarrassment. "Yes," y/n says confidently.

"You're really good at art," Gareth speaks up. "Thank you," she smiles at him. Before anyone can say anything, the bell rings, dismissing the cafeteria full of student to their classes. Y/n walks out, separating herself from the club. She notices a page in her book had been bookmarked with a fold in the corner. Scribbled next to one of the sketches of y/n and Gareth cuddling was "this was Gareth's favorite he told me -Dustin" and in a corner of the page was a phone number and a note saying "Gareths number" with an arrow pointing to it. Y/n smiled at the paper before closing it and putting it in her bookbag.

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

I love space