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#Edgy home decor
digitalartuadesign · 4 months
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Welcome to Fight Club - digital poster print
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You can buy digital bookmarks in my Etsy shop here:
Immerse yourself in the chaotic world of “Fight Club” with our tough digital poster. This poster embodies the rebellious spirit of the cult classic movie. The poster is perfect for Fight Club fans or anyone who appreciates edgy, thought-provoking artwork. Add a touch of rebellion to your space with this vibrant poster and let Tyler Durden's words echo in your mind: “Welcome to Fight Club. First rule of Fight Club: you don't talk about Fight Club.”
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p0ssumcl4wz · 1 month
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I fw this heavy guys
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citygraffix · 5 months
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pussyratpower · 1 year
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nevernotme-uk · 10 months
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(via ""In Their Sights" - Birds of prey seamless pattern " Throw Pillow for Sale by NevernotmeUK)
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delohill · 11 months
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brownsugar4hersoul · 1 year
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2dye4neisha · 1 year
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Skull Art/ Tie-Dye/Cotton Canvas/Poplar Frame
Arose From Death Arose From Death- Gallery Canvas Wrap, Poplar Frame Nessa Makara Art @2dye4neisha 16″ X 20″ Hybrid Technique Lifelong color guarantee High quality manufacturing and printing guarantees that the canvas will live for generations. The latest printing techniques provide bright, vivid and crisp colors. High-end inkjet Canon iPF9400 printers are used with Canon 12-color Aqueous.…
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kquil · 1 year
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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 2
02 : THANK YOU
SUM. : you thank your heroes with home made lunch at their work place, leaving with a temporary tattoo and three men wrapped around your little finger.
TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist sirius ; tattoo artist james ; piercer remus ; innocent reader ; all three are smitten with you ; all three also being casually dominant with you ; sweetheart reader x rough tough men is the trope! ; prepare to be as obsessed as i am over these men! ; marauders with tattoos and piercings are hot
LENGTH. : 2.6k
PREV. : 01 | RESCUE
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“Well there’s a familiar face,” Remus greets with a smile as you step into the shop. You timidly smile back and wait for him to wave off a customer with their care kit before stepping forward with your heavy tote strung over your shoulder, “do you have an appointment for a tattoo or a piercing?” he asks, eyes trained on the tablet at the front desk. 
“Oh, no no,” you bashfully stammer, “I’m not here for any of that, I’m scared of needles,” 
“That’s a shame,” Remus contemplates and you look up to see him leaning over with a thoughtful look, his elbows on the counter as one hand holds his chin up - he’s so handsome. He has several piercings decorating his ears and an eyebrow piercing to accentuate the angles of his brows. As he moves his chin off his palm to caress it in contemplation, he continues to take you in as you also take the opportunity to admire some of the tattoos on his arms. There are some phrases in different fonts, an impressive vision of a wolf with a full moon and a minimalist set of the moon phases alongside much more, “you’d look good with cute little piercings on your ears,” he finally comments, reaching out to point at your ear. 
“Th-thank you,” you subconsciously reach up and touch your ear, his statement making you briefly consider his suggestion.
“So what are you here for if not for a piercing or tattoo?” straightening up into his full height, Remus lets a light scowl take over his face, “Is that bastard troubling you again?”
“It’s alright, don’t worry, I told my manager and he’s been banned from the pub I work at so I haven’t had anymore bad encounters,” 
Remus smiles at your precious appearance, you really look adorable being all timid in front of him, “I’m glad,” his voice is warm and comforting, different to the roughness brought on by the ink on his arms. He was dressed in a white shirt under a sleeveless brown sweater vest, high-waisted, tailored pants with the bottoms just about reaching his Doc Martens - he’s a good balance of soft but edgy. It’s a unique charm of his, you gather.
“I-I just wanted to say thank you to you guys,” you gesture to your tote bag, “so I made you some lunch, I hope that’s okay…” 
“Free lunch, home cooked by the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen?” Sirius interrupts, stealing your attention as he appears from a corridor to your left with a boyish grin. He reaches for your hand and brings your knuckles up to his lips for a soft kiss, “what an honour,”
Your cheeks heat up incredibly at the gesture, “it’s really nothing, you guys saved me last night, it’s the least I could do,”
Sirius smiles down at you and after sharing a look with Remus he begins to lead you down the same corridor he had just appeared from, “well, you have the most perfect timing, darling because it’s a slow day and almost our lunch break,”
“I’ll tell James and help him finish up with his last client for the day. We’ll see you in a bit,” Remus announces as he flips the sign at the door to ‘CLOSED’. You wanted to protest and say that you didn’t want to waste too much of their time but the mousy haired piercer smiled and that was enough reassurance for you to hold your tongue. 
“Let’s go love,” Sirius leads you down a corridor to a room with rock posters and varying pieces of art decorating the wall as sofas lined half of the walls with varying aesthetics, one was very much distressed but still cosy looking, as the other was of a sleek, black leather. Thankfully, there was a pretty large coffee table that you could set your tote bag on and slowly began to take out the food you had cooked. On the distressed sofa behind you, Sirius admired your tentative figure and appreciated your stark difference in aesthetic to the room around you. Your style fits close to Remus although more feminine and carefree. There was a cosy structure to Remus’s fashion but with your long flowing white skirt, chiffon blouse and delicate jewellery, you embodied a breath of fresh air under the summer sun, “what a beauty,” Sirius says to himself, arms resting along the back of the sofa as you finally settled down.
Thinking he meant the food in the tupperware, you smile, “you like the food already?”
“I’m talking about you, darling, although the food does look delicious,” Sirius chuckles under his breath as you timidly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Th-thank you but really, I hope you like the food,” 
“I’m sure I will,” silence slowly permeates the space between you as you wait for Remus and James but it was still comfortable, not awkward at all. In that time, you both take in each other’s appearance. Sirius wears a white tank that clings to his toned figure and ends just under his belly button, showcasing a majority of the tattoos that embellish his skin. He’s also in black jeans and a pair of worn combat boots. The tattoos on his arms and those that peak out from his torso and chest don’t have a visible theme but they all still go together somehow. There are many unknown symbols and long winded sentences written decoratively around said symbols and the occasional elaborate illustration. There are some doodles dedicated to music, some to inside jokes you would guess and you want to ask questions but you bite your tongue. You didn’t want to be rude. 
“Curious?” Sirius asks, having noticed your wandering eyes and smiling at your kitten-like interest. 
“A little bit…”
“Ask away,”
When James and Remus finally join the two of you a few minutes later, they see you fully turned towards Sirius on the sofa, eyes focused on a tattoo on his chest that he was explaining the meaning of, catching you in a trance with his voice. The tattoo artist has his tank top moved down and to the side as you absentmindedly reach your hand up to his tattoo, almost tracing the ink on his skin with your delicate fingers. From the grin on Sirius’s face and the love-eyes he was watching your face with, they could tell he was smitten with you, which was rare. Sirius was very much a ladies man but you’ve managed to rope him in with hardly any effort put in. Remus doesn’t blame his friend, though, you’re very captivating. 
The chuckle from both Remus and James pulls your attention away from Sirius who smirks up at them, unbothered by their interruption.  
“I heard a pretty lady was treating us to some home made lunch today,” James eagerly sits down in the space beside you as Remus sits atop the far right of the coffee table. 
“Y-yeah, I hope you like it, please dig in,”
“Don’t mind if I do!” James cheers and promptly consumes his share of food, giving the occasional groan of satisfaction from the taste in his mouth, “Sho good!”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Remus corrects with an amused smile before turning to your with an appreciative grin, “Thank you, truly, (Y/N), I was getting tired of take out,”
“Home cooking is the best,” Sirius groans from your other side, already half way through his share, which makes you giggle in happiness. Your heart swells with joy knowing that you could properly thank your heroes. Speaking off, you finally get to admire James in better lighting than the street lamps. He isn’t nearly as decorated with ink as Sirius but there was a pretty illustration of a stag on his forearm that you admired. You hadn’t wanted to feel awkward so you brought some lunch for you too and ate alongside the trio, stealing secret glances at James who remained oblivious, too engrossed in his food. He’s in much cosier attire compared to Srius and Remus. Hanging from his broad shoulders was an oversized, faded shirt and washed-out jeans with the bottoms rolled up to showcase his high converse shoes. Framing his face was a charming pair of round glasses and, matched with his unruly curls and tattoos, made him a pictured balance of casual and wild that suits only him.
Lunch passes and James was the first to finish between the trio, quickly proceeding to pull puppy eyes at his two friends in a soft plea for them to surrender some of their food to him but they firmly decline. 
“I’m not letting you have some of my lunch just because you finished yours too quickly,” Sirius huffs, pulling his tupperware closer to him. 
“Sorry Prongs,” Remus laughs, “those puppy eyes aren’t going to work on me, our dove’s cooking is too good to share,”
Unable to resist James’s pouting face, you hold up a spoonful of your meal, “it’s okay James,” you bring your spare hand to sit under the spoon and move it to James’s lips, “here, say ‘ahh’,”   
With a boyish, golden-boy grin, James happily accepts the mouthful and moans in happiness, chewing away like a happy squirrel. Enjoying his glee so much, you happily feed him the rest of your lunch, saying that you were already far too full to eat any more so that Remus and Sirius didn’t scold James too much. It was partially true though because seeing James eating was enough to make you feel full already. 
Once done, you set aside the tupperware and was completely unprepared for when James kissed your cheek as thanks for feeding him the rest of your lunch, “you’re too kind, angel, thank you,” he whispers into your ear, his breath brushing against your sensitive skin and sending a shiver down your spine. You could only muster a timid nod in response. 
When lunch ended, casual conversations started which slowly divulged into the boys wanting to give you a temporary tattoo as thanks. You wanted to protest the redundancy of their actions but were quickly convinced by the verbal pleas of Sirius and James as Remus simply stared at you with interested eyes.
“What tattoo would you like, doll?” Sirius asks, smiling at your pondering face. You're far too cute for your own good.
“Surprise me!” you finally chirp, missing the roguish grin the three men share. 
Not too long after, you were brought into a room with a computer connected to a specialised printer against one wall of the room. Remus and Sirius immediately move to prepare the temporary tattoo on the screen and set up the printer while James leads you to the tattoo bed in the middle of the room. 
“This can fold into a chair but that’s a bit of a hassle right now, do you mind sitting on the bed instead?” James asks as you shake your head and reassure that it’s alright. He loves how compliant you are and watches for a moment as you struggle to get on the high bed before offering assistance, “May I?” his hands hesitates just before they reach your figure but you pay his touch no mind and nod, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders as he secures his hold on your waist. With a small countdown, James lifts you onto the tattoo table with hardly any effort. 
Shuffling back, you smile up at James who remains taller than you on the table as he stands between your thighs, “Thank you, James,” the tattoo artist smiles when you say his name but frowns at the distance you’re sitting at the table. 
“No worries sweetheart but you we need you a little closer than that,” without another word, James grips your thighs with his large hands and pulls you with some force to sit closer to the edge of the table, which also pulls a surprised squeal from your lips, “sorry sorry,” James chuckles softly his hands still on your thighs and shudders at your proximity when he looks down to see your skirt bundled up, accentuating how close your hips were to his. Stepping away, James tidies up your skirt as you giggle and thank him once more for his assistance. He smiles at you before being called over to the computer, trading places with Sirius. 
“Where would you like your temporary tattoo, love?” he asks gently, opening a packet of sanitising wipes as the sound of the printer starts and whirrs in the background. 
“Hmmm…even though it’s temporary I want it to be easily hidden,”
“Such a shy princess aren’t you?” Sirius comments with a smile, “it’s so cute,”
Ignoring his comment, you rush to think of the perfect place for the tattoo and distract from your racing heart, “how about here?” you point to your chest, just above your breasts and below your collarbone. Sirius immediately recognises the placement and raises an amused brow. 
“Like my tattoo?”
You timidly smile, “yes please,”
“Very good choice,” Sirius praises playfully as pride swells within his chest, “but we need to get to that spot first, love,” you look down at your blouse and curse under your breath. 
“Umm…” you try to pull down the collar but it was a small cut and the fabric resists. The temporary tattoo finishes printing and Remus approaches the table with James to see you struggling with your blouse.
“Where does she want it?” James asks as Remus carefully holds the small tattoo. 
“Where mine was,” Sirius points to just below his collar bone, “but her blouse is in the way,”
Remus nods and approaches you, “that blouse is going to have to come off, dove,” his brown eyes watches you gnaw at your lip, it’s a hesitance he’s familiar with so he knows what to do, “don’t worry, you have nothing to be scared of, okay?” he gives you a warm smile when you look up at him and soon feel assured enough to untuck your blouse and pull it over your head, “good girl,” he praises with the same soft tone. You feel silly, these men give tattoos and pierce people’s skin, you’re sure that they’ve seen plenty of shirtless women in only their bras. Remus especially…he’s an expert piercer and has probably been asked to pierce lady parts that weren’t…very common.
“I’ve got to prepare your skin, love,” Sirius holds up the wipe and once you confirm exactly where you wanted the tattoo again, he wipes the area clean. Your skin is soft and slightly bouncy as it leads down to your breasts that makes the tattoo artist wipe at your skin a little longer than normal. After Sirius finishes prepping your skin and letting it dry, Remus steps up and applies the tattoo as best as he can without wrinkles. He swipes over the tattoo with his fingers and smiles at the handiwork. Beside him, Sirius and James admire the temporary ink, all three internally screaming at what you had let them ink you with.   
“Wait a full hour before you peel off the applicator,” Remus gently instructs, “and try to avoid sweating or showering for the next 6 hours okay?” you nod and Remus pats your head in approval with a contented hum. You put your blouse back on and let James help you down, laughing brightly when he raises you up high and spins you in the air before he finally sets you down, laughing alongside you. 
The boys still have a business to run so you collect your empty tupperware and wave the three goodbye before hurrying home, excited to see what tattoo they had given you as they were adamant at keeping it a surprise from you. When you finally arrived home and got a hold of a mirror, you examined the tattoo with your blouse off and felt your cheeks gradually heat up as you trace the differing fonts of the three names decorating the space beneath your collarbone. 
Their names in their handwriting. James, Sirius, Remus.
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NEXT : 03 | GROCERIES
NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES
A/N : i'm becoming more and more obsessed with this au - i couldn't stop writing! if i'm going down, im bringing your darlings with me! no survivors allowed! maybe i'll make a part 3? i don't know yet. again, i've added additional tags of the people who have expressed interest in more parts for the timestamp. tell me your thoughts, lovelies!
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains ; @manical-heaven ; @ch3rry-pops ; @unholyhuntress ; @animeluvr99 ; @peppers-library ; @thepowerthismanhasoverme ; @buck-fics ; @bohemian-lavender-girl
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starryinkart · 7 months
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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]
[Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!]
Hey guys!!! I said I would work on a Uzi human version to match with my N human version, so here it is!!! I decided to make her a mix of Japanese and Middle Eastern, since Nori means seaweed in Japanese and I’ve have a friend named Khan who was Middle Eastern irl!
Since you guys like the headcannons last time, have some about Uzi:
Uzi was born with blue eyes and black hair, like her parents had, though Khans eyes were a more icy blue. When Khan started to neglect Uzi, she decided to mimick the appearance of her mother instead, seeing her as a role model after everything cool she heard about her around the colony, dying her hair purple like her.
In this AU, Uzi knew her mother before she died for a short time as an infant. Of course, she doesn’t remember much, but she does remember the play dates she used to have with her cousin Doll anytime her aunt Yeva would come over.
Nori and Yeva were sisters, both genetically modified to have the solver inside of them, making Doll and Uzi cousins. Nori and Yeva knew the consequences of having offspring with the solver in their veins but were actively working on a cure before Noris demise.
Uzi, Doll, Lizzy and Thad used to be childhood friends, but after Nori died and Yeva began to pull Doll away from her cousin to protect her from any trace of the solver, Doll and Lizzy began to bully Uzi.
Uzi came out short, like her father Khan, whereas Nori was tall, partially due to the effects of the solver.
Uzi's favorite foods are Philadelphia Sushi Rolls, Shrimp Tempura Rolls, Shoyu Ramen, and Khan Plov (suprisingly)
Uzi's favorite dessert is Apple Cheesecake!
Khan and Uzi used to have a pretty wholesome father daughter bond, but when Nori passed, he distanced himself from his daughter around the time Doll and Lizzy started bullying her, due to fear the solver may have developed in his daughter. Unfortunately we all know what eventually happens in the series and how Khan picked the worst time in her life to try and rekindle a bond with her.
Uzi has a scar on her left shoulder from N stabbing her with his wing in the Pilot, but honestly she doesn't care if people see it, unlike N who's self concious about his scars, and she thinks it looks cool.
Once she begins to be taken over by the solver, her thirst for oil is uncontrollable, though she HATES the taste of it.
Uzi's favorite anime is Chainsaw Man, though N thinks it's to gorey.
N taught Uzi to fly with her wings, and it went...as well as you could expect the first few times, but eventually she learned.
Sometimes Uzi has moments where she doesn't remember certain events in the day like what she ate for breakfeast or what she did that day in school, and her mind sort of blips all over the place ever since her solver powers were activated. She doesn't know this, but whenever that happens the solver is slowly getting acustomed to her body, putting her conciousness to "rest" while it tries out her body.
N and Uzi's favorite activity is to watch the sun rise together from inside an abandoned building they have made their "treehouse" of sorts. V doesn't know about it, and it's filled to the brim with comfort items, furniture and decorations for whenever they decide to stay out too late and no make it back home to risk burning up.
Uzi's favorite animal is cows!
Uzi and N spoon each other often, even when they were just friends, because the warmth of their bodies makes them feel safe and loved.
Uzi's favorite subject is Science and anything to do with being hands on. She likes learning and school, but just "dislikes" likes and doesn't know how to speak to them without being bullied her peers with a passion.
Uzi can be very motherly and protective, and is actually very nuturing and kind underneath her edginess.
She'll NEVER tell V this to her face, but she's grown to love V as a big sister of sorts and cares about her as much as N.
Her favorite color purple. She thinks it makes her and N match look cool but you didnt hear that from her.
She likes alot of metal and hardstyle types of music, but acutally enjoy's N's upbeat and pop music from the late 1900's and early 2000's human era more than she lets on.
She doesn't like when N uses his deeper voice and whispers in her ear...it makes her feel...weird. But in a good way- wait what?
She loves to draw and totally doesn't have sketches of her, N and V as superhero anime characters, her and N building a neural network together in her sketchbook. EW. GROSS.
>> PS. This is part of my Murder Drones Skin and Bones AU!
I didn't know how to end this, but I will say Im totally doing the other characters! Next is V!
____________________________________________________________
ALSOOOOO…
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THANKYOU ALL FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS GUYS!!!
IM WORKING ON A BUNCH OF STUFF LIKE ANIMATIONS ON YOUTUBE, MORE AU THINGS, AND WORKING ON MY ABSOLUTELY FANFIC! I'm hoping to expand more on my comics on Tumblr like my @thedarknessyouhold and the Murder Drones universe as a whole, so stick around for some awesome stuff coming soon!
My commisions are also open! You can find them on my KO-FI HERE and HERE !
You can ALSO find updates and sneak peeks sometimes as well!
AND my LINKTREE HERE!
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citygraffix · 5 months
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pussyratpower · 1 year
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hotnbloodied · 6 months
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Petite!Yan X Reader
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
TW: implied stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, murder(not of reader), slight gore(?). <let me know if I missed anything>
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
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Your laugh was his drug, he loved listening to you laugh. That glowing round face on that adorable plush body of yours. If it was up to him he’d want to keep himself wrapped around you forever but you two were just friends. (For now.) He was always made fun of for liking the cuter things in life, Sanrio, pastels and frills. His home town was small and everyone basically knew everyone, that’s why he went to a big university but making friends was never easy when one has been an outcast for so long.
It wasn’t until his second semester that he met you. When he chose to join a club as a way to make friends, you were also a part of it and you were really clumsy as he was soon to find out. It started when everyone was making cakes, as it was the theme for this week's activity and everyone was given the choice of trying to do it from scratch or using box mix. This wasn’t Petite!Yan’s first rodeo in baking so he started doing what he liked such as sifting the flour and beating the eggs.
He noticed you right when you opened the box cake mix and just dumped all the contents you were holding at shoulder length into a bowl that was on the counter. Causing the powder to fly everywhere and only some of the box cake mix to enter the bowl. It was extra hard to have not noticed you since you were stationed right beside him which led to the aforementioned powder that didn't land in the bowl, to get all over his station, coating his ingredients and part apron to be dusted with your cake mix.
You profusely apologize to him and try your best to explain through your flushed expression that you’ve never cooked or baked before. He laughed (when was the last time he did that?) and assured you it was okay, in fact, he thought it would be a good idea to help you through the step by step of everything. By the end of it all he had his adorably decorated cake that looks like it could have come from Pinterest and your cake, that looked like what you’d expect from someone learning.
After that experience you and him talked more outside of the club, he learned that you were sociable unlike him so you introduced your friends to him which he greatly appreciated but even though this was what he wanted, why did he still feel so empty? His heart tinged every time you laughed with someone else and his mood sours when he sees you smile at someone else. (It should be all his.)
In his pursuit to find ways to spend as much time with you as he could he found out that all the food that you eat was prepackaged food from the store since you couldn’t cook to save yourself. He took it upon himself to make sure you ate home cooked food regularly by making you lunches, not only that, he convinced you to let him teach you some basic cooking skills, adding to the time the two of you spent together where he could bask in your presence. On top of also the time he spent with you with the friend group at school.
During the week, the friend group would all convene at someone’s house, usually whoever was the one offering, and study together. That's if you and Petite!Yan didn’t have cooking club that day. Then afterward you and Petite!Yan would eat dinner together. During the weekend you went on shopping trips with Petite!Yan since you commented that you liked his style a lot and wanted to dress more like him (which unintentionally added fuel to his delusional fire.)
Petite!Yan couldn’t help but fall into the rhythm of monopolizing your time. But it came to a head one day when the friend group saw someone new, a tall boy with an edgy feel to him. PetiteYan’s alarm bells started ringing when he noticed the pink dusting your face when you talked to the boy and how the new boy seemed extra soft around you. (Petite!Yanisn’t delusional! He’s got the weeks of observation notes of you to prove that something is up!) Slowly, to his dismay, your wardrobe which was on the cuter side (thanks to him!) changed slowly to adopt more black clothes and edgier fashion.
Not only that, you were spending more alone time with the boy, when you used to spend it with him! This boy was a bad influence on you. He had to bring you back to his– the light side, before it was too late! But he needed to be smart about this. One day, when he saw that the boy was alone he realized that it was now or never before walking up to him. Petite!Yan told him that you were looking for him and could bring him over to where you were. Only for Petite!Yan to bring him to a secluded area and tasering him before tying his body up and dragging him to the trunk of his car and driving to the woods. Petite!Yan wasn’t the strongest but he was running on pure adrenaline. Before the boy could wake up, Petite!Yan took out a large knife that he kept exactly for an occasion like this and sliced the boys’ throat causing a terrible gurgling sound to escape his mouth. The sound was gross, so much so that Petie!Yan couldn't bare to listen to it. To end his misery faster than the boys, he jammed the knife into the boy's chest, aiming for the heart and getting frustrated every time he struck the ribs instead. Killing someone was harder, and messier than he had thought it would be, who knew?
By the end of the stabbing spree Petite!Yan looked at his deed, clothes and skin drenched in blood. Petite!Yan’s work wasn’t done but he was surprised with how he felt at this moment, he honestly thought he would be panicking more. But all he had on his mind was what came next in this plan and how he would have you all to himself again. He took the shovel from his car and started to dig, deep enough to his satisfaction. Climbing out of the hole he checked the boy for a pulse, when he felt none he shoved the body into the hole before covering it up with dirt again. By the time that Petite!Yangot home, he was exhausted and collapsed on his bed. 
Days turned into weeks, everyone was wondering where the boy was. His family came forward and pleaded on the news. The friend group was devastated, which especially included you. Petite!Yan hated seeing you like this, but took up the role of your comfort provider without a moment's hesitation. Making sure you still ate, drank and showered regularly. The study group disbanded for now and you didn’t feel up to going to the cooking club but Petite!Yan still came over to check in on you. You might not know it now, but his tactic of comforting you was working. He was becoming the rock that held your life together in this trying time, making sure you still had food in your stomach and giving you a space to talk about your mental state openly with him. Eventually, he’ll have you in his grasp fully. He was willing to play the long game, because once you are his, you are never escaping.
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primrosechronicles · 1 year
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Web of Love: The Barista and Spider-Punk
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A Hobie Brown x Barista!gender neutral!reader
Summary: Based on his friends recommendation, he decided to visit this charming cafe, little did he realize that his life was about to take a turn for the better Warnings: None Word count: 1546
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At 7 am on a Sunday, the vibrant orange hue of the rising sun reflects off the silver jewelry owned by Hobie Brown. His flashy outfit and confident strides cause the crowd of spectators to talk about him in hushed tones. He pays them no mind as his only goal for this morning is to get some coffee.
He remembers his bandmate recommending this Family-owned cafe; Riri said it was “the best cafe she ‘ad ever been to!” She also mentioned the atmosphere, the dessert, and especially the… beautiful barista that serves most of the drinks there.
He stops outside of the cafe, making sure it was the right place. “Sunrise Brews & Bites..” he read aloud; Yep, this was the place. Hobie enters the family-owned cafe, the delightful aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. The place has a cozy ambiance, with soft background music playing, and the chatter of customers creates a warm and welcoming atmosphere.
He walks up to the counter, eyeing the menu and desserts.
“Good Morning! Do you see anything you fancy?”
Upon glancing up, he is taken aback. Holy shit… He sees the most gorgeous barista he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. 
“Mornin' love, um.. Wot do you recommend uh..” He looks at your name tag “y/n?” 
You blushed at the nickname “Oh you're a newcomer? Well! I recommend the espresso, it has hints of stone fruits, cocoa, savory flavors, and more!” 
“Then I'll ‘ave that then.” He smiled, finding you to be as charming as his friend had described.
You smiled in return then went to work making his drink. As Hobie finds a cozy corner table to wait for his mocha, he takes a moment to observe the cafe's ambiance. He isnt used to the soft decor of the cafe, he is more used to the loud, edgy, and gritty pub that he and his mates often go to.  
A few minutes later, you approach his table with a warm smile, holding a beautifully crafted mocha in your hand. "Here's your espresso, enjoy!" you say happily, placing the cup in front of him. 
He admires the drink and notices… the huge heart in the middle of the drink; he winks at you “Thank you love.” He pulls out money from his pocket “No, no, no! There's no need! It’s.. on the house.” You beamed at him. Confused, he looks at you up and down “ You sure?” “Yes, I'm positive! Riri mentioned that she recommended this place to one of her bandmates, that is you right?” He nodded. “I… wanted to give you the best experience possible! So… it's on the house.” “Thanks luv, I appreciate it” He cheered in response. How could he say no to a free drink?
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That was a month ago; and after interacting with you for a somewhat… long period of time, His feelings growing stronger and stronger the more he enters the cafe and talks with you. And today is the day he asks you out!
Attempt #1
He arrives at the cafe, he stops outside the cafe and rehearses what he's gonna say for like; the hundredth time. He grips the bouquet in his hands and steps forward and opens the front door. The familiar jingle of the overhead bell greets him, and the delightful aroma of coffee and desserts fills his nostrils. He takes a discreet breath through his teeth, feeling the excitement building inside. It's showtime– 
“Ah! Sorry! y/n is sick today, so i'm covering their shift” Your co-worker says, noticing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Well fuck.
Attempt #2
He returns to the cafe a few days later, determined to ask you out. This time, he practices what he'll say in front of a mirror at home, hoping to gain more confidence. As he approaches the cafe, he takes a deep breath and enters. The familiar jingle of the bell welcomes him, and he sees you behind the counter. 
With his heart pounding loudly, he pushes himself to make his move. But just as he's about to approach you, a rush of customers flood in, keeping you busy and leaving him no opportunity to strike up a conversation. He waits patiently for a chance to talk, but time slips away and causes him to be late for his band practice, and he eventually decides to leave without having spoken to you.
Attempt #3
The next day, I mean.. Third time the charm right? This time, he's prepared a little note in advance with his phone number, planning to leave it discreetly for you to find. He enters the cafe, with the note hidden in his pocket, nerves getting the better of him.
As he stands in line, waiting for his turn to order, he notices that you seem to be engrossed in a conversation with another customer. Feeling intimidated, he decides to wait for a more opportune moment. However, as the minutes pass, he becomes more and more anxious, and when it's finally his turn to order, he forgets all about the note in his pocket and just hastily places his order.
As he leaves the cafe, $2.75 short and no date with his barista; he berates himself for not having the balls to seize the moment 
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Riri; his bandmate, notices his persistent efforts to ask you out. She decides to lend a helping hand and come up with a plan of their own. Riri comes to the cafe and strikes up a conversation with you, catching up since it's been a while since she's been in your shop subtly dropping hints about their upcoming band performance.
"Oh, by the way," Riri says,"We got a gig comin' up this Friday at the live house! The one I told ya about in Rose street? It's gonna be a proper blinder of a show with some top-notch music. You should totally come and check it out!"
You smile and show genuine interest, "That sounds like fun! I'll try to make it if I can."
Friday night arrives, and the band is giving an electrifying performance at the venue. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and the crowd is having a blast. Hobie is playing like a pro, his fingers smooth like butter on his guitar.
Midway through their set, Riri takes the mic, "'Ey, everyone, we got a right special person 'ere tonight. Our guitarist Hobie 'as been tryin' to gather the bleedin' courage to do somethin', and I think it's time to give 'im a little push… Hobie, why don'tcha take the mic for a sec?"
The spotlight shifts to Hobie as he walks to the mic in the center, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. He takes a deep breath and walks up to the stage, where you now stand face to face.
With Riri playing a romantic tune with her bass in the background, Hobie looks into your eyes and says, "I've been comin' to the cafe for a while now, and every time I see ya, or talk to ya.. my 'eart skips a beat. I'd really like to get to know ya better. So, I'm just gonna take a chance and ask ya, would ya like to go out with me?"
You're taken aback, but a smile spreads across your face, "Hobie, I'd love to."
Hobie leans down from the stage and you both exchange contact information, The crowd cheers as he gives you a sweet peck on the forehead and Hobie can't help but feel relieved and overjoyed. “Meet me backstage!” he yelled on the mic “I will!” you yelled back.
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"Evening, love," Hobie says with a warm smile, his accent giving his words a charming twist. "Glad you could make it to the show. Thanks for comin'!"
“You guys killed it up there!” you cheered “the energy was flowing right through me!”
Hobie grins wider, his eyes locking with yours as he leans in a bit closer. "Been wantin' to do this all night, I 'ave," he whispers softly, that charm making your heart flutter, before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.
Your heart does a dance in your chest as his lips meet yours, and you feel an instant connection, like two jigsaw pieces fitting perfectly together. It's a sweet, tender moment that seals the beginning of something special between you and Hobie.
Your love for coffee takes on a new dimension, becoming intertwined with the fond memories of shared laughter, tender moments, and deep conversations at that special place. Your co-workers at the cafe witness your love story blooming.
As your relationship grows, you discover that just like a well-brewed coffee, your love is rich, fulfilling, and offers a perfect balance of sweetness and depth. With every cup of coffee you and Hobie share, your connection deepens, and you find comfort in knowing that no matter how busy life gets, you can always find a moment of bliss in each other's company.
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a/n: i had such a hard time writing the accents... ty for my bestie who proofread everything ;33
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theladyragnell · 27 days
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ooo, how about alex/thom for #29 visiting their home for the first time?
(If you are reading this and wondering why I didn't do the obvious and send them to hill country, that's because I got the same prompt twice for this round and already did that! Once again please kindly ignore the epic backstory fic implied by this ficlet.)
Roger had avoided the City of the Gods. He’d called it stuffy and hidebound and sanctimonious and staid, and Alex had believed him. He had no Gift of his own, no opinion on the place where most of Tortall’s mages trained. From Delia, from the other women who came to court from there, he’d had the idea of pampered cloisters where women and men without martial talents learned how to administer their fiefs.
When Thom of Trebond had arrived at court, with his gaudy clothes and his incessant words and his clear uselessness at anything but magic, he’d done little to disprove any of that. The City of the Gods was where people went to become decorative and, according to Roger, to stagnate magically. Alex had never expected to go there and have his vague suppositions either proved or disproved. He hadn’t wanted to.
Alex stared for a long time at the city walls of forbidding grey stone and tried to ignore the feeling of saturated magic prickling across his skin and how familiar it was. Thom, reluctant as he’d been the whole journey, seemed just as disinclined to ride the last few steps through the city gates.
“We have to do it sometime,” Thom eventually said. “If nothing else, our king commands it.”
They were, the both of them, too good at pretending not to care, not to be hurt. After the first week of travel, of the two of them reeling and snarling like wolves, they’d stopped prodding at each other and just let each other pretend. “As my liege commands, of course.” A truth, but a bitter one. Alex put his heels to his horse’s sides, and expected Thom to follow.
There were few people in the streets. Priestesses traveling in gossiping knots, or sterner and older ones shepherding along lines of girls in plain dresses. Men in Mithran robes, or scholars’ robes, or mages’ robes. Acolytes in plain clothes, their allegiances only visible from the badges they wore. All of them stared at two young lords on horseback.
“You aren’t wearing your robes,” Alex realized aloud when they’d passed a mage of about fifty, a plump and smug master of the Gift whose eyes Thom had avoided.
Thom’s edgy laugh was as abrasive as everything else that came out of his mouth. “It might shock you to learn, Tirragen, that I’m not terribly popular with the other mages here. My hair is distinctive enough. Add that to my age and my robes of mastery? Best to pretend at anonymity. If I’m even a master at all anymore.”
Thom’s Gift was one of the wounds Alex had learned the hard way not to press at. When he had, Thom had pinned him against a wall, and the very air seemed to be rusty violet, and then it was all gone, and neither of them had breathed right for the rest of the day. “Doesn’t matter to me,” Alex said eventually, and Thom snorted, but didn’t speak again.
The Mithran temple where Thom had trained was austere to the point of ugliness, and where Alex had expected pampered younger sons unsuited for being warriors, he found quiet men with pinched expressions. They were, on the whole, pale and delicate, as though kept away from the sun, and the older ones steered clear of Thom in the halls, seeming not to see him, as a novice brought them to the master they were there to see.
Alex had, in those last terrible weeks before the coronation, been vaguely aware of a Master Si-Cham, short and lively and kind, trying to bring Thom back from the brink. He’d expected, as much as he expected anything, the priest replacing him to be a similar sort of person. Instead, they were greeted by a sharp-featured man with the look of the haMinch, businesslike and unkind, who treated Thom with open dislike and Alex with suspicion mixed with a dose of pity as Thom explained in cold technical terms what had been done to them both.
“We’ll see what can be done,” the priest said at last. “In the meantime, Master Thom, you know where the guest quarters are.”
If it bothered Thom to be a guest where he’d once lived, he didn’t say it. He said something insincere and honeyed instead, and took the dismissal with as much grace as he took anything. There was no one waiting for them outside, but the priest was right. Thom knew the way, and brought them through the dim and dismal halls of Tortall’s biggest temple to the god of the sun until they found an out-of-the-way hallway where the sconces were barely lit. The quarters were little more than a room each with a washstand, and Thom abandoned Alex and put a thick stone wall between them as soon as he could.
Alex looked out the window at the kitchen garden crawling with novices hard at work and thought of the palace in Corus, how cold and strange it had seemed, how regimented after his childhood in Tirragen. How Wyldon of Cavall, his page-sponsor, had with grim duty told him that page training was about learning to endure, and that enduring was a privilege if it served a realm that Alex’s grandfather hadn’t been a part of. How mistrustful and mistrusted he’d been, until Gary had extended a hand, and then Francis, and Raoul, and at last Jon.
And then they’d all reached out to Alan too, years later, no matter how surly and prickly he’d been. Looking down at the boys in the garden, all of their eyes on their separate tasks, Alex didn’t think many of them reached out. Roger had always said, half-laughing, that mages were a selfish lot, that they would never help another one along if they might be competition later.
Thom spoke more, and more fondly, of the City of the Gods than he did of Trebond. Maybe he didn’t trust Alex with Trebond. Alex hoped that was it, and that it wasn’t that this cheerless place was what he thought of as home, the way Alex sometimes guiltily thought of Corus first, and clear-skied Tirragen after.
Alex wouldn’t ask. Thom wouldn’t want him to. Neither of them wanted questions from each other, just an end to their duties and thus to the reminder of what they’d done. If the home Thom knew best wasn’t what Alex had thought it would be, that didn’t matter.
Still, he watched the novices from the window, looking for signs of friendliness or care, until Thom knocked on the door to show him the way to dinner.
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