#I have the picture right here in my sketchbook and his hand is not small

[snugglebeans3000]

Why am I so good at doing things last minute?? I wish I knEw because I want this madness to eNd

Also I don’t know what went wrong with my marker like????? My skin tones are copics???? I paid a lot of fucking money for these, why are they shIt??????

[fatkish]

Demon Child Pt. 8

You had seen the six-eyed man again in your dreams and were somewhat worried. Tengen had told you to always inform someone if you have a vision of someone. So when you woke up, that’s exactly what you did. You crawled out of your futon and into Sanemi’s. You began to shake his shoulder. “Nemi, Nemi up. Nemi up” you said as you shook his shoulder. Sanemi groaned but opened his eyes. “Uhg, what do need kid?” He grumbled. “Saw six eye man” “who?” He asked. You got up and left the room and went to grab the sketchbook that Tengen had given you.

You began to draw a picture of Kokushibo. After you drew it, you ran to show it to Sanemi. “Look look Nemi, Kokushibo” you said as you showed Sanemi the drawing. Sanemi looked at it and glared. “Alright, I’ll let the master know, but go back to sleep.” Sanemi groaned. You were afraid you were going to see the red eyed man again so you crawled over to your futon and grabbed the pillow before snuggling next to Sanemi. “Nemi strong? Nemi keep bad guy away, right” you looked up at Sanemi. He could tell by the look in your eye and the slight tremor in your voice that you were scared. “Yeah, I’ll keep you safe. Now go to sleep” Sanemi sighed. He had his crow deliver the message to the Master first thing in the morning.

Once morning came around, Sanemi made sure that you ate breakfast before bringing you with him to go visit the master. When you got there, you immediately ran to Kagaya and jumped into his arms. You snuggled your face into his chest as he chuckled. You smiled up at him and giggled as you began to tell him all about how Nemi trained you. “Aw I see. Y/n, how would you like to go to the swordsmith village? Do you want to go with Tanjiro?” You tilted your head but nodded. You didn’t know what the swordsmith village was but if Tanjiro was going then you’re going too.

It took some time, what with the Kakushi being the ones to bring you to the village. You fell asleep during the journey, it wasn’t until Tanjiro woke you up that you realized you had arrived. You woke up and followed Tanjiro who led you both to a house where you both sat in a room with tatami mats on the floor and a small old man with a funny mask on as well as two men behind him off to the sides of him. “Ah, hello young ones. My name is Tecchin Tecchi Kawahara and I am the chief of this village. Nice to meet you. I might be the smallest person in this village but I am also the most important. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see the quality of the bow you use to show respect.” He spoke.

You stared at the small man for a minute and tilted your head. You watched what Tanjiro did and decided to do the same. Doing as Tanjiro did, you bowed and smacked your head into the floor so hard you were bleeding. Your actions actually spooked the men behind Tecchin. “I y/n, nice meet you” you said. “Oh my, what polite children, please help yourself to some sweets” Tecchin said as he pointed to a wooden container that had some kind of food you’d never seen. “Thank you” Tanjiro said. You decided to space out not really listening to their conversation.

Once they were done talking you waved goodbye to the little old man before grabbing Tanjiro’s hand and following him. You and Tanjiro were led by a man through the village. You saw a bunch of people crafting swords and you watched. Eventually it got late and the man led you two to a stairway surrounded by tall trees with lanterns along the way. “The hot spring is at the top of this hill. It has all kinds of healing properties. Bruises, burns, cuts, hemorrhoids, constipation, everything from gout to the pain of a broken heart, the hot springs will heal it. And the path ahead will take you to it.” The masked man said. Tanjiro was carrying you since you wanted to snuggle with him. “Right, thank you so much!” Tanjiro said. “I’ll be down here preparing your meal.” The masked man said.

Suddenly you all heard a scream and turned to see Mitsuri Kanroji running down the path towards you three. Tanjiro quickly set you down before Mitsuri ran into him. “It’s you, Tanjiro, Tanjiro!” Mitsuri shouted as she ran, her breasts swaying with each stride. “Please be careful! Your breasts are this close to spilling out!” Tanjiro cried. Mitsuri tan right into Tanjiro and ended up pushing him back a bit while he grabbed her haori and pulled it over to cover her chest. “Listen, you’ve got to listen to me. Just now, up there, I got ignored!” Mitsuri cried as she sat on the ground. “I said hello but he ignored me!” She continued to cry. “Who ignored you” Tanjiro asked. “I don’t even know” Mitsuri cried.

Seeing her cry, you did what Gyomei would do when you cried, you walked over to her and pat her head. “There, there” you said as you stood on your tippy toes to pat the top of Mitsuri’s head. “Ahh, you’re so sweet.” Mitsuri said as she enveloped you in a hug. A few seconds passed before you realized you couldn’t breathe when being smothered by her bountiful bosom. “I asked him his name, only to be ignored. Isn’t that awful? I’m a Hashira, you know! All the good vibes I got from my bath have been canceled out” Mitsuri whined. “If it helps, I heard that dinner will be ready soon, and it’s matsutake rice” Tanjiro informed. “Whaaat? For real?” Mitsuri suddenly had a bright aura surrounding her. She finally let you go and you sucked in a deep breath as Tanjiro watched with worry. Mitsuri then began to skip happily away singing about dinner while you and Tanjiro watched.

When you and Tanjiro reached the hot springs, Tanjiro gazed at the large spring. While he was gazing at the spring, you were already stripping down. Suddenly something hit Tanjiro’s head, it was a tooth. As you looked through the steam, you noticed a familiar figure. “Genya!” You squealed as you jumped into the water. Both Tanjiro and Genya freaked out. Tanjiro grabbed you and covered your eyes as Genya quickly grabbed a towel to wrap around himself before leaving. “Wait Genya I meant to ask, are you and the wind Hashira related?” Tanjiro asked but Genya ignored him. “And here I thought we could bond in our nakedness. Making new friends sure is tough.” Tanjiro said. He then undressed himself and folded up his clothes and yours before telling you to cover your eyes as he got in. You, Tanjiro and Nezuko bathed together before dinner.

Once dinner was served, you sat beside Mitsuri on her right while Tanjiro sat on her left. You proudly showed off to Tanjiro and Mitsuri your newly acquired mastery of using chopsticks. “Very good y/n. I’m so proud.” Tanjiro said as he smiled seeing you so proud of yourself. You began to eat as Tanjiro and Mitsuri talked. As you ate, Mitsuri had plates and bowls piled up. “Wow, that’s impressive!” Tanjiro complimented Mitsuri. “Really? I really only nibbled to be honest” Mitsuri said. Once you were full, you crawled over and laid your head on Tanjiro’s legs. “I need to eat more to get stronger. Oh right, the guy you met at the hot spring, was Genya Shinazugawa. He’s also a swordsman.” Tanjiro spoke. Seeing Nezuko under the table you rolled under there and started to play with her.

Nezuko started playing with Mitsuri while Tanjiro and Mitsuri talked. You sat under the table before getting up. You wanted to go see Genya and started to wander off. “Where are you going y/n?” Tanjiro called. You looked back and smiled before saying “go see Genya”. You began to wander around but didn’t find Genya. You sensed an odd presence, something bad, something malicious. You knew this feeling was that of a powerful demon. You returned to Tanjiro since you couldn’t find Genya and decided to sleep with him. When he pulled out your guy’s futons, you crawled into his. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He asked. You had become somewhat of a snuggle addict. Smiling, Tanjiro allowed you to snuggle with him that night. He wrapped his arm around you as you both slept.

The next morning after breakfast, you, Tanjiro and Nezuko were wandering around the forest. Supposedly there is supposed to be some kind of secret weapon that will make one stronger. While you both walked through the woods you eventually heard some voices. You followed them and found a boy with a mask and the mist pillar, Tokito Muichiro. They were arguing over whether the boy would let Muichiro use the mechanical doll to train with. While Tanjiro focused on the two living people, you focused on the doll. You felt odd when looking at the doll. Almost as if you knew him in a past life. Getting bored, you decided to wander off to look for Genya.

It took a long time but eventually you found Genya. That night you slept with him. It was during the night that you found yourself somewhere strange. It was a small house in a forest. You didn’t recognize this please so you decided to look around. You walked up to the house and opened the door before looking inside. When you did, you found a man with long red hair, red eyes, Hanafuda earrings and a strange mark on his forehead. He noticed your presence and you walked over to him. You looked him over before smiling and sitting next to him and laying your head on his lap. You looked up at him as he looked down at you. Despite not showing much emotion, you could sense that he was happy.

“It seems ——— was able to do the impossible. I never thought she’d be able to bring a half human life into this world, being a demon, but it seems I was wrong.” He said as he looked down at you. “I can tell your ———s child. You have her same emotional abilities. Come, I’ll show you how to make full use of your abilities.” He took your hand and led you outside. As you walked outside, you felt a sense of peace, being so close to this man. “It seems as though you’ve met my brother. I’m sorry about him, I wish I could have stopped him from becoming a demon.” He said. You sensed a profound love yet also a deep sorrow from this man. Your eyes filled with tears as they slid down your cheeks. This man loves his brother so deeply, it was so strong that it overwhelmed you.

“It seems you’re possibly even stronger than your mother was. In order to use your power, focus deeply on an emotion, channel it, and spread it out through your aura.” He said as he knelt down in front of you. You sat down and began practicing. It took you awhile but eventually you managed to channel your emotions into your aura. You looked up and saw that the man was starting to fade as well as your surroundings. “It would seem as though our time together is up, there are two demons in the village. Be careful” he warned before everything faded and you woke up.

When you woke up, Genya was worryingly leaning over you. “Oh good, you’re awake. You were asleep for a few days I was starting to worry.” Genya said. “No time! Demons here!” You said. “What?” Genya said. You got up and began running out of the building and into the forest. You saw a man walking down the path leading from the hot springs and saw a pot not far from him in the middle of the path. You sped up and pushed the man away and kicked the pot away from him. “Oh hyo hyo, look what I’ve found. The little brat the master wants. Hyo hyo!” The demon said as his body appeared from the pot.

You ran and kicked the pot causing it to soar for a bit before hitting the ground and shattering. You turned to the man behind you and looked him over. “You run now, warn village” you said. You took off into the woods. As you ran you came across a few fish monsters that you would use your blood demon art on to slice in half. You then ran towards the strongest source of the bad energy you felt. Eventually you came across a shed. You looked to the side and saw the mist pillar in a sort of vase shaped body of water. You heard a commotion inside the shed and went inside to find the pot demon attacking two swordsmiths.

You jumped between them and created a bubble surrounding the three of you and pushing the pot demon away. While keeping the bubble up, you ignored the demon talking and walked over to the swordsmiths. “I fix you” you said as you licked your hand and touched Kanamori and Haganezuka on the arms. kanamori watched amazed as his and Haganezuka’s wounds healed and stitched themselves back together. “Thank you little one.” Kanamori said. You pointed at yourself, “y/n” you said. “Ah my name is Kanamori and this here is Mr. Haganezuka” the masked man spoke. You smiled before turning around and seeing that Muichiro had escaped the water and was fighting the demon.

After Muichiro fought the demon he collapsed. You released the bubble and ran over to him and licked your hand before slapping him across the face. His wounds started to heal and the poison started to break down. As Muichiro recovered, you walked over to Kotetsu and licked your hand and tried to touch him but he refused which led to you chasing him in a circle trying to touch him with your spit covered hand. When Muichiro got up, he stole the sword Haganezuka was working on and ran off. You decided to follow him.

[beggingforxavier]

Your Good Boy

This is an alt! Follow my main blog: @beggingforxavierthorpe

About: After a friend sends you a picture of Xavier and another girl, jealousy fuels you. He'll know who he belongs to after tonight.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: P in V, no condom, dirty talk, oral (f recieving), masturbation (m), edging, overstimulation, use of toys, crying, super!sub!Xavier.

It had been two hours since Yoko had texted you a picture of Bianca and Xavier from a Nightshades gathering. Her hand was resting on his right thigh, him laughing at something she said, eyes closed. Ever since you saw it, it made your blood boil. Was this why he didn’t want you joining the Nightshades?

You’ve been ignoring his texts, him probably drunk and needy from Yoko’s mixed drinks. The buzzing wouldn’t seem to stop, but it eventually dies down.

“Well, he can just go see Bianca.” You grumble to yourself, shutting your eyes tightly to try to will sleep to take over. Even though it was late, you couldn’t sleep, all you were doing was tossing and turning in your bed. With a frustrated sigh, you sit up and run a hand through your hair. “Fuck it.”

Fueled with jealousy and rage, you sneak out your window, scaling balconies until you land at your boyfriend’s.

You’re about to knock on the glass pane when you see movement inside. You rub your hand against the dusty glass to try to get a better look. Xavier is sitting in his desk chair, hand wrapped around his cock, pumping desperately. His sketchbook is open on the desk, and his other hand is held above it, making the image move. Squinting your eyes, you realize that it’s a drawing of you riding his cock roughly, your hips slamming together, your mouth open and chest heaving. How he got so much detail into that one drawing surprises you, and the fact that he’s jacking off to you melts the edges of your heart. But as soon as you remember why you’re there in the first place, your jaw sets and you pound on the glass.

Xavier jumps from where he’s sitting, cursing, and tucking himself into his pants. He turns around and tucks himself into his waistband, and then shuts his sketchbook before coming to the glass.

“Babe?” He asks, confusion marring his features, his brows coming together. “What’re you doing here?”

Regardless, he backs up so you can climb inside, and you do.

“Did you have a nice night?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Uh, yeah. I tried texting you.” A small blush rises to his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “It was just a small party….I-did you see me just now?”

“Of course I saw you jacking off.” You set your jaw again and Xavier takes in your features, becoming even more puzzled. “You’re bad.”

“Why are you angry? Your body language is so off.” He shakes his head, reaching his arms out towards you, still a little tipsy and needy.

“Get on the bed. Now.” You order, kicking off your shoes.

Xavier doesn’t move at first, concern flooding his brain, but eventually he sits on the edge of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How dare you fucking let her touch you like that.” You spit, cheeks flaming. Xavier cocks his head to the side, his eyes widening.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you not want me in the Nightshades because you want to fuck around behind my back?” You counter, arms crossing.

“What the fuck? No! I don’t want you to join the Nightshades because they can be a bunch of assholes sometimes. We do dumb stuff and you’re too good for us.”

“And apparently you’re the biggest asshole of them all.” Xavier’s eyes widen at your hurtful words. You drag your phone out of your pocket, opening the picture and dropping it in his lap. “If her hand was any higher, she’d be touching your dick.”

“Baby-“

“Strip.”

“What?”

“God, I said fucking strip, Xavier. And don’t you dare touch yourself.”

Gazing up at you in a mix of fear and excitement, he obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tugging his sweatpants down, leaving him bare against his comforter.

Your eyes harden as you look down at your boyfriend, pushing down your hurt feelings until all you feel is a need to make him pay. You walk over to his bedside table and open the drawer, pulling out his vibrating cock ring. You toss it at his chest.

“Put it on. On high.” You tell him, starting to tug your shirt up and over your head.

You kick off your leggings and then pick them up off the floor, watching him slide the ring down to the base of his cock and he presses the button three times, turning it to its highest setting. He groans immediately, his hips pushing up into the air as the vibrations are overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK.” Xavier whimpers, the vibrations making his toes curl. “Baby, please.”

“No. You don’t have control over this.” You put your leggings on the end of the bed and climb up, straddling his thighs, sitting back on his firm legs. “You want to let other girls touch you? Then come home and jerk off to the thought of me? For that, you get punished. You can’t cum without my permission. Do you understand?”

Xavier nods wordlessly and brings his hands down to grip your hips, his eyes wide. You grab them and remove them immediately, pinning them above his head. His cock is hard still, his tip red and leaking. His chest is flushed, his stomach sucking in at the vibrations shooting up his length.

“Are you going to be able to be a good boy and not touch me?” You ask him, and Xavier groans, enjoying having you so close to him. He struggles against your hold a little, and you sigh. “That’s a no.”

“No, I’ll be good.” He says quickly, but you’re already moving to grab your discarded leggings.

He watches you as you wrap the material around his wrists and tie them tightly to the iron headboard. Xavier whines and struggles against the hold, just tightening them on his wrists.

“You couldn’t be good. Not a surprise.” You spit into your hand and bring it down to his cock.

“I’m your good boy.” He whimpers, eyes bulging as you collect his precum and start to stroke him quickly. “Holy shit!”

“Prove it.” You almost growl, your hand eager against his cock, stroking him without mercy. “Who do you belong to?”

“Y-You, I belong to you. I’m your good boy.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.” His hips stutter, pushing up against your hand. “Please, please, wanna cum for you.”

Your hand is relentless on him, and he’s squirming, the vibrations and the pull of your hand too much. His chest is deep red now, and he has a look of desperation on his face.

“I-I….can I cum?” He whimpers, thrusting up into your hand. “Please, baby.”

You continue wordlessly, and he drags in a deep breath, trying desperately to hold it. You watch him carefully, and when you think it’s about to become too much, you pull off your hand and press the button to turn off the vibrations of the cock ring. Xavier lifts his butt off the bed, chasing your hand, frustration clear on his face as his impending orgasm dies instantly.

“Oh, my poor baby.” You climb up to straddle his stomach now, leaving his cock, weeping and solid. Reaching forward you grip his chin. “Open.”

Xavier opens his mouth, and you spit, letting a glob slowly slide past your lips down into his mouth.

“You want to cum, don’t you? Do you think you deserve to cum?” You ask, your voice softer now, stroking the side of his face.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t realize, I pushed her away...” He looks up at you, feeling small and shy. “I only want you.”

Satisfied with his answer, you lean over to his bedside drawer again and pull out the wand he bought you on a whim the year prior. The one you were too afraid to keep in your shared bedroom and forced him to keep here where no one will ever find it.

You slide down his body once more, leaving a little wetness in the center of his stomach, turned on by seeing him helpless beneath you. Settling between his legs now, your hand moves down, turning on the vibrating cock ring again, and he grunts. Xavier’s toes curl again, and he throws his head back, his eyes closing. Though, when you turn on the wand and press it right underneath his tip, his head shoots back forward, a moan ripping from his throat.

“Holy shit!” He cries, and you continue to hold it there. “T-Too strong.”

“You can take it. I know you can. Be my good boy.” You coo, running your hand up and down his sucked-in stomach and down his thighs, just caressing him.

Xavier curses, bucking a little against the jolts of oversensitivity that run through him, but you just hold the wand there firmer. It doesn’t take much before he’s a begging mess beneath you.

“Gonna cum…can I? Please, oh my fucking God, I can’t hold it-“ He wails beneath you, louder than he normally is.

“Cum, Xavier.” You answer quickly, and he does.

Ropes of hot cum land on his lower stomach, and some on your hand as well, sliding down the sides of his shaft. The groans leaving his throat are filthy, and when your hand comes down on his thigh roughly, the slap echoes against the lofty ceilings.

But you don’t remove the wand, and soon Xavier’s sobbing, pulling desperately against his binds, the vibrations too much for him. Tears roll down his cheeks, staining his pale skin.

“Ah-baby, stop. I can’t-“

“Do you need your safe word?” You ask calmly, and he shakes his head indignantly. “Does it feel good?”

“Hurts…fuck, don’t stop.” Xavier pushes past the tears, his mouth falling open, pain mingling with pleasure at some moments, and he tries desperately to keep his hips against the mattress.

“Can you give me one more, baby?” Your words are soft and soothing, reaching up to rub under his eye and collect his tears.

You bring your thumb down to suck on the salty tears, moaning softly. Xavier’s eyes are still brimming, but he watches you. His cock keeps twitching now, and he starts to splutter as he gets closer. A sheen of sweat dons his skin, and you think he almost looks angelic.

“C-Can I?” He manages, and you bite your lip to hold back a self-satisfied smirk.

“Mhm. Go ahead, baby.” You tell him.

It only takes another minute before his cock is dribbling again, a sad, low flow down the sides of his cock and pooling at the base.

You immediately turn off the vibrations on both toys, pulling him carefully out of the cock ring and tossing them to the side.

“You were so good for me. I’m so proud of you. ‘M gonna take care of you now. You want my pussy?” You question, and he nods as you reach up to untie his hands.

When they’re finally free, Xavier rubs his wrists and then brings his hand to your hair, stroking softly.

“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks and you climb up, straddling his waist now, and lean down to kiss him softly.

“I know.” You reach between you and stroke him slowly, trying not to make it painful for him, but he’s overstimulated so he hisses. Despite the pain, you can feel him hardening against your palm. “I’m gonna ride you.”

Xavier nods again, and soon you’re sinking down onto his cock. Your wet cunt swallows him easily, inner thighs wet from watching him fall apart so many times and beg to cum. You slide down until he’s as deep inside you as he can be – and you rock your hips. The cum from his prior orgasms sticks messily to your core and butt now, making you even slicker. His hands grip your hips, helping you move with sloppy rolls. Moans spill from your lips, and you press your hands to his chest to get more support. Oversensitive, he’s still a mess beneath you, gasping, his eyes wide but mind empty as he fucks up into you. His eyes shut tightly as he tries desperately to keep his orgasm at bay.

“B-babe…sweetheart, not gonna last.” He manages to get out, but you don’t stop, chasing your own orgasm now.

Xavier’s fingers grip your hips tighter, enough to bruise and he bucks up into you as he cums a third time, barely anything dripping out of him at this point. His face is screwed up and he moans high in his throat, almost a whine. He pants and your hips still now on him, Xavier being fully fucked dumb, gazing up at you in adoration.

You pull off him, knowing he’s too oversensitive to continue, settling back on his stomach. His eyes trail over your chest and back up to your face, his eyes widening as through his foggy brain he realizes that you didn’t cum. Embarrassment floods through him, and he reaches up and cups your cheek. His eyes fill with tears again, feeling guilty and so, so spent.

“I’m so fucking sorry. Come up here, ride my face.” He offers, and you finally smile that self-satisfied smirk down at him, able to tell how spent he is, but he’s so desperate to please you that he’d do anything.

You climb up his body, hovering over his face. Xavier immediately sinks two of his long fingers inside of you, and his tongue seeks out your clit. He sucks lazily, and you slowly grind your hips against his mouth. His tongue flattens against your clit so you can get the most friction possible.

He groans against your pussy as you roll your hips faster. Gripping onto his hair by the root, you use his mouth. His fingers drag in and out of you, your juices dripping down his wrist. Xavier slurps at your messy cunt, until you fall apart above him, legs shaking, and head thrown back as you moan his name.

Rolling off him, you take his fingers into your mouth and suck on your juices, before leaning down and pressing your cum-covered tongue into his tired mouth. He groans and sucks on your tongue, tearing another moan from your throat. After a moment, you pull away and smooth his sweaty hair back away from his face.

“I love you so much, Xavier. You did so good. Made me so proud tonight.” You murmur, leaning down and peppering his face with kisses. Xavier takes in a shaky breath, and slowly starts to weep against your shoulder. “I know, baby. I know. Let it out.”

“I-I love you too. I t-tried to be good for you. I’m sorry.”

“You are my good boy. I promise.” You nuzzle against him. “I was just showing you who you belong to. Was it too much?”

Xavier shakes his head, rubbing at his tears. You kiss them away and press your forehead to his.

“I know who I belong to. I deserved to be punished.” He sighs and looks up at you, tears starting to dry up. “I won’t let something like that happen again. I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t the most important girl in the world to me. If you really want to join the Nightshades, I’ll make it happen.”

You make a face, and he chuckles a little.

“How about we clean you up, baby? You’re covered…” You grin smugly as you look down at his cum-covered body.

Xavier nods, shutting his eyes for a minute and letting you get up to grab a damp cloth. Turning back, you take your time studying him. You’d never been prouder of him before. You can tell he’s starting to drift off, the night too much for him.

You start to clean him up, very gently rubbing the cool washcloth against his tired, warm skin.

“I love you.” He mutters, half asleep.

“I love you too, baby. Sleep now. I’ve got you.”

[darkbluekies]

hi hi how have you been if it's no trouble and if you are taking requests can I request your ocs with an artist reader that gives them a painted picture of themselves, If it's too difficult pls ignore this. Thanks and have a great day/night♡

(sorry if my grammar is bad)

A/N: I'm so sorry, there might have been some translation error in my brain that said that yn gave the yanderes a picture of themselves, not of yn! I'm still not 100% sure what you mean, but I wrote this. I hope you'll like it even if it's the wrong interpretation :(♡

Warnings: a bit suggestive parts in Edmund's and Silas’s

Silas:

You’re quietly coming into his office with something behind your back. Silas looks curious, asking you what you want since you never come down to his office. Youquickly give the paper over to him and attempts to run, but he lets his men lock the doors before you have the time to reach them.

“Now, now, don’t run. Let’s see what you’ve given me … wow, baby, this is magnificent. You drew me? Why haven’t you told me that you have such a talent, little thing? Now, don’t get all shy now. I really like it. I’ll keep it right here on my desk. Come here now so I can give you a kiss.”

Dr Kry:

He can tell that you’ve been drawing something for over an hour by now, but you haven’t let him see it. Everytime he comes close you pull the paper away. He’s growing curious, he can’t deny that. By lunchtime, you give him your artwork. He scans it with a small smile on his face.

“You made this of me? How sweet of you. I will cherish this dearly, I promise. Do you like to draw? Do you want me to buy you some supplies?”

King Edmund:

He has hundreds of portraits from all ages. Every year there's a new portrait of him (and you) hung in the throne room. But when you give him a messy sketch of him that you made while waiting for him to finish a meeting, he's mesmerized. You've caught something that the other painters haven't. There's something real about your sketch. Something human that has gotten erased in the official portraits.

"This is so beautiful, my jewel. You have a wonderful talent. I want you to paint my next portrait. And I'll do whatever pose you want, wearing whatever you want."

Jerry:

She likes to make some sketches too. But nothing professional. Just some doodles when she's bored. She has let you borrowed her sketchbook while she's gone in a warehouse to retrieve stuff you want nothing to do with. You draw her from memory and when she returns you hand the book back. She catches a glimpse of the small cartoonish sketch you've made of her.

"Is this supposed to be me? Why did you make my face so round? I have a jawline, you know. I'm just teasing, I know it's an art style. It's stupidly cute somehow. I'll make one of you later and then we'll keep them in our phonecases, got it?"

Hedwig:

You're not paying attention in class again. It's okay, though! Hedwig will give you her notes. You're leaning against the wall, doodling. You start to draw your girlfriend, picturing her side profile magnificently.

"Y/N, we'll work in pairs now- … oh, is that me? Wow, you're amazing! You have to show me more later, I didn't know you had such good talent! Can I keep it? Thank you, I'll hang it in my locker and get reminded of you every time I open it!"

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 26

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3.7K

Warnings: Dom/Sub Undertones, Video Chat Sex/Masturbation, Shibari

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019 @rosecentury @wa-ni @secretdream2 @missemrose

Masterlist

Day 351

Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, Ethan pulled Leah’s sketchbook out from under her pen and began to flip through the pages.

“Coleman, come on, you’ve been exclusively drawing crows for weeks, you gotta give us something different.”

“They’re ravens,” Rohan corrected, coming to sit on Leah’s left across from Ben.

Ethan frowned at Rohan, shaking his head. “What’s the difference?”

“Same family of bird but ravens are bigger.”

Leah did indeed have a book full of ravens. With forming hundreds of feathers being so intricate and tedious, it kept her mind focused on her task rather than on how much she missed Sy. The only problem was that she’d had so much practice over the last four months that they were actually becoming easy.

But that was not, in fact, the only thing she’d sketched lately and she prayed that Ethan wouldn’t flip to the back end of her sketchbook.

“Fine,” she said, waiting for an appropriate time to reclaim her sketchbook, “name an animal and make it hard.”

The boys took a moment to think before going around the table and naming their picks, beginning with Rohan and ending with Jer on her right.

“Lion.”

“Peacock.”

“Elephant.”

“Crocodile.”

The boys looked at Jer like he’d just said unicorns were real. It was an unconventional choice, sure, but it definitely met the assignment. She would have to learn the shape and texture of the skin. And, to fit on a single page, it would have to be a close up of its face which also meant teeth.

“I guess I have never done a croc before,” she said.

“That was obvious,” Ethan said, thumbing through the pages and showing off the dozens of animal pictures and the briefest glimpse of one that was much less PG. Read not at all.

Leah slapped a hand over the sketchbook. “Okay, I get it. No more ravens.” She slid it back across the table and set her small pencil case over it. “Was there a reason you guys came in here in the first place? You know, other than to criticize my artistic choices?”

“We’re going into town for a drink. You should come with.”

Leah wasn’t in a particularly social mood but she’d been waiting for an excuse to go into town and visit a post office. She had a letter to send out that she did not want associated with the US military in any way.

An hour later, they were walking through the streets of the German city they called home. When they walked past the store front, Leah held back, telling the boys she would catch up with them in a minute. They offered to wait for her but she waved them off, not wanting to risk one of them seeing something they shouldn’t.

Once inside, Leah headed straight to the section that held the shipping supplies. Double checking that no one was looking over her shoulder, Leah pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack and slid out the image she had carefully cut from the book before leaving the base.

Sy had decided to live off base for the first time ever so he now had a postal address that went to a private residence. Like she’d done the last time she’d given Sy one of her drawings, Leah put it between two pieces of cardboard before sealing the envelope and paying for everything with the bored teenager behind the counter.

Day 362

The incessant buzzing drew Leah from her sleep. She wasn’t sure who the hell decided to put up shelves in the middle of the night but she was going to give them a piece of her mind. Only, when her eyes blinked open and she looked at her nightstand, she realized the buzzing wasn’t coming from a power drill, it was coming from her phone.

“H’llo?”

“What are ya doin’ to me baby girl?” The tone of Sy’s voice made her insides flutter. It was… Leah squinted as she looked at the overbright phone screen. It was two in the morning, six o’clock back in Colorado. Leah had one guess as to what had possessed Sy to call her as soon as he got home from work, time zones be damned.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?”

“No.”

Sy hummed. “See, I think ya know exactly what you’re doin’ and you’re lyin’ about it to be a brat. Because only a brat would send their boyfriend a sexy little drawing of herself naked and tied up while he’s a world away and can’t do a damn thing about it.”

There was a brief pause as Leah’s sleep-addled brain processed his words. “Does that mean you like it?”

Back home, Sy stared at the picture as he repeated Leah’s words in his head. Does that mean you like it? As if there was even the slightest chance that he could not like the image of Leah laying on her stomach, tied in ropes from shoulder to ankle with her tattoos peaking out. The amount of time she must have spent getting every strand of rope, every knot perfect was unfathomable.

“Darlin’ even if there was any blood left in my brain for me to describe how much I like it, I don’t think the words actually exist.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Do you… Do you want to show me?”

A crooked smile pulled at his lips at the invitation in her words. “You wanna see what you do to me? Maybe you also wanna watch me take care of the little problem ya caused?”

From what Leah had seen, there was no ‘little’ about it.

“Can I?” she asked on an exhale.

As Sy took his boots off—something he hadn’t done in his rush to open Leah’s letter—he switched the call to a video, waiting for Leah to accept. When the image came on screen, it was fully dark. He heard the bed squeak as she moved to turn the bedside lamp on and her face came into view.

He was relieved to see that, although a little sleepy, she didn’t look tired. She wore a thin camisole and he was willing to bet she was only wearing her typical boyshorts underneath. Making his way to the bedroom, Sy continued his study of his girlfriend.

Due to the time difference and the fact that Leah was constantly being shipped out on ops, they hadn’t had many opportunities for face to face conversations. It was reassuring to see she looked healthy and injury free.

Stripping out of his uniform one handed would pose a challenge so Sy propped his phone up on the dresser and took a step back.

“See this? I didn’t even have time to change. I opened the envelope the moment I walked through the door.”

He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the edge of a nearby laundry hamper. His shirt came off next before his hands moved to his belt. Leah licked her lips, her eyes traveling up and down the screen.

His hand slid into his pants, grasping his shaft over the cotton of his underwear. “I gotta say baby girl, I’ve never had a drawing make me hard before.”

He’d also never masturbated on camera but there was a first time for everything. Apparently he’d reverted to ‘horny teenager’ status now that he had his first steady girlfriend.

“You were the one who wanted to watch. Tell me what you wanna see. Should I sit or lay down?”

“Sit.”

Sy looked around the room, spotting the phone holder he used to watch videos while he cooked or cleaned. The angle on it could be adjusted so that the phone was almost completely vertical.

Still in his underwear, Sy walked to the bedside table to grab the stand then returned to the living room. He set the phone down on the coffee table, adjusting it at what he hoped was a good distance from the couch. Before he could talk himself out of it, Sy stood in front of the camera, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and pushed them down. His hard dick sprang up to rest against the patch of hair on his lower stomach.

Leah was silent but the slight hitch of her breath and the quickening rise and fall of her chest told him that she was turned on. His chest and thighs filled her screen, showing off his hard earned physique. 

“Makes you hot, don’t it? Knowin’ ya drive me fuckin’ wild.” He stroked himself as he spoke. There was no way he was just going to let any length of silence linger. “Bet you’re drippin’.”

Properly phrased dirty talk was something Sy had learned she really enjoyed. If she was in the mood it made her wet but even when she wasn’t it was like it reassured her to know that he could want her without acting on it. Leah didn’t always want to touch or be touched but hearing verbally how much Sy was attracted to her gave her confidence that she was enough just as she was.

Sitting down, Sy recentered the phone on the table. “You gonna help me baby girl? You gonna let me see you too?”

Leah bit her inner cheek, looking off to the side. For a second Sy wondered if that was too far but then Leah pushed the blankets down to the end of the bed and rested the phone against them.

She disappeared long enough to turn the main light on then came back to kneel on the bed. Her hair was tied in a messy braid over her shoulder, leaving the swell of her breasts on full display. The tight fabric of her white camisole left nothing to the imagination.

As Sy continued to look his fill, his hand returned to its task, slowly moving up and down his length. A groan unconsciously rose from his chest when Leah shifted her knees further apart, revealing the wet patch on her indigo boyshort.

“You gettin’ a little needy there?”

She couldn’t speak but the hitch in her breath was answer enough. In an unexpected move, Leah’s fingers trailed up her stomach to pinch her nipples through her shirt. Even if she had admitted to getting aroused when they were together, she had yet to act on it in front of him. If he’d known that having the protection of a phone screen was what it took to help her trust him, he would have suggested it earlier.

“You gonna make yourself feel good, baby girl?”

She squeezed her tits, pinching her nipples one more time before peeling the camisole off. Sy’s hand paused around the base of his shaft and squeezed. He’d missed that sight. Leah was, hands down, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I’ll try.” It wasn’t exactly a sexy answer but it was the truth. She would only get more stuck in her head if she made any guarantees but she couldn’t find the words to explain that.

Luckily, Sy understood what she meant. He moved to pick up the phone, looking straight at Leah as he spoke. “Good girl, for tellin’ me. No pressure, okay?”

Leah took a deep breath, giving him a small nod. “Okay.”

He gave her a reassuring smile before putting the phone back on the holder and leaning back in the seat. “Take your panties off. Show me all that sweet wetness you made for me.”

Shifting to lay on her back, Leah raised her legs to show her ass off as she obeyed his order. Once the scrap of fabric dropped to the floor, she leaned up on her elbows and let her knees fall to the side.

“Fuck me.” Sy resumed stroking his cock. Her entire apex was shiny with the evidence of her arousal. “Did ya also get this wet when you were drawin’ yourself all wrapped up for me?”

“Maybe…” She had most definitely gotten wet after hours of researching different shibari patterns. Actually, she’d gotten wet just remembering when Sy had first showed her what he could do with a rope. Though she hadn’t realized it at the time, she liked the idea of being at his mercy.

Her fingers found her clit, drawing slow circles around it. Just the soft touch sent a spark of electricity down her spine. Her climax built as she watched Sy chase his own peak, the filthy words never ceasing to fall from his lips. Her mouth watered when she spotted the first drops of precum leaking from his tip which he immediately used as lube to tease his sensitive glans.

It wasn’t long before he was spilling himself onto his stomach, his abs clenching with every jolt of pleasure coursing through his body. Head tipped back, Sy caught his breath but his eyes immediately shot open when Leah found her release, moaning his name as she did.

Day 209

“Stop abusin’ that cheek, baby girl.” Sy’s thumb brushed over said cheek, pulling Leah’s attention away from a random spot on the floor. “No sense in worryin’ about what happens when we get back to base.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

“Will ya let me try something with you?” he asked, putting the last of the freshly cleaned dishes away. “Something that I think ya might really enjoy and that will take your mind off worryin’?”

Leah frowned, feeling wary of the oddly vague request. Planting her hands behind her, she hopped up to sit on counter. “You’re gonna have to give me more detail than that.” 

Coming to stand between her thighs, Sy took the dish towel from her hands and draped it over the oven handle.

“I think you need to give up control and not just the way we’ve been doin’. Actual submission for a scene where ya pick a safeword and we negotiate everything before it starts. Then I want ya to give me full control.”

“How is that different from before?”

“Because before you could have said or done anything ya wanted at any time and I would have followed your lead. Here, once we start, I’m askin’ that ya let me do all the thinkin’. You let me make all the decisions knowin’ that everything I do is in your best interest and will follow exactly what we agreed.”

That did sound appealing. She couldn’t tell how many times she’d wished her brain would quiet down rather than running a million miles a minute but she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘negotiate’.

Although, she did vaguely remember the contract scene from when she’d watched the Fifty Shades of Grey movie.  She’d seen it during a weekend leave and had fallen asleep halfway through so her memory of the whole experience was rather foggy.

Plus, that movie was basically just porn with a lot of plot and she would never take relationship advice from porn videos so she definitely wasn’t going to take any from a movie that couldn’t capture her attention enough to stay awake for two hours.

Pursing her lips, Leah chewed on her inner cheek until she realized what she was doing. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips instead and she gave a small nod.

“Alright,” Sy said, running a soothing hand over her right thigh. “Here’s what I would like to do. I want ya to kneel for me while I tie a rope harness over your chest. If that feels okay, I might continue makin’ a pattern down your leg.”

“What do you want to do once I’m tied up?”

“Nothing. If I finish makin’ patterns down both your legs without ya askin’ to stop then maybe I let ya sit with the ropes for a bit but, otherwise, I’ll take ‘em off right after.”

Leah frowned, she was definitely curious even if she still didn’t know how it was supposed to help her relax… Or what Sy was supposed to get out of the deal. 

They’d messed around a few times since their little tryst on the roof and she was becoming more comfortable with him. She found that she was much more willing to engage in something sexual knowing that Sy wouldn’t push to go outside of the limits she set out beforehand. There had still been a few times where she didn’t want to do anything at all but he seemed to sense it—or maybe her behavior was more transparent than she thought—and he hadn’t initiated anything more than kisses and cuddles.

“You wouldn’t want to get off after?”

“No. Even if you said yes to me now I don’t trust that you’ll be clear headed enough to stop me if you change your mind later. If this works like I want it to, it might make you feel a little groggy.”

“Oh.” She was still skeptical but if Sy thought it would have that much of an effect then she wanted to believe him. “That sounds fine. I don’t have any issues with that.”

He asked a few more follow-up questions before sending Leah to change into leggings and a long-sleeved shirt.

While Leah did as he asked, Sy pulled a few lengths of climbing rope from where they had been stored after their hike. Leah had noticed that one of her old ropes was beginning to fray so she had cut it and put it aside to be dealt with later. It wasn’t made for shibari but he was going to stick to basic patterns that put little to no pressure on Leah’s body and her shirt should protect her from rope burn if the harness shifted as she moved.

After finding a pair of scissors in the kitchen, he climbed the stairs to go join Leah. Her bedroom door was open and Sy walked in just as she finished pulling the shirt down her stomach. The room wasn’t abundantly spacious but there was enough space on the floor for Leah to fully stretch out onto her back which was all they needed. 

“I’m just going for something decorative here so you shouldn’t feel much pressure but if anything pinches or feels remotely wrong you need to tell me. I’ll stop and fix it before I do anything else.”

That was easy enough. She already had an idea of what level of pressure was too much from aerial hammock. Sometimes the fabric could be constricting which required her to loosen it before comfortably moving on to a different pose.

Leah watched as Sy took a throw blanket from the end of the bed, spreading it on the floor then putting a pillow in the center. There was no way of knowing how she would react until they started and he did not want to risk her panicking and rolling off the bed. He made Leah test the position, confirming that she was comfortable before sitting on the ground next to her.

“Have you thought of a safeword?”

“Valkyrie.”

“Good. If you say that, I stop. If it’s too much of an emergency for me to untie you, I’ll cut the ropes off,” he explained, pointing to the scissors.

Sy encouraged Leah to close her eyes as he worked to focus on the sensations. Every step was described as he wrapped the rope and he frequently checked in before moving on. By the time he’d finished with the simple harness, Leah’s head was falling forward.

“Leah, can you sit for me and stretch out your legs?”

He kept his hands on Leah’s waist to hold her steady while she shifted onto her hip then uncurled her legs from under her. Despite putting her hands on the ground, she wobbled when her arms gave out, feeling boneless. Seeing her falter, Sy moved the pillow and made her stretch out on her back rather than sit.

The next few times Sy checked in, Leah gave him a slurred ‘fine’. The pressure of the harness was… Nice. Relaxing like a long hug. Though her legs weren’t restrained, they still somehow felt heavier with the presence of the ropes. Her head, on the other hand, felt light and floaty.

Scratch that, her whole body felt floaty, like she was being lifted in the air.

“You with me, baby girl?”

Leah hummed.

“Open your eyes for me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, finding Sy much closer than she expected. That was when she realized they weren’t on the floor anymore and she was laying over his chest on her bed.

“How’re you feelin’?

“Good. Great actually. What the hell kind of magic was that?”

Sy smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “People often call it bein’ ‘rope drunk’.”

“I can understand why.”

Running his fingers under the ropes, Sy made sure that nothing was pinching her skin after the change in position. Noting that there were no danger spots, he started slowly undoing the ropes from her left leg.

“How did you get into this anyway?”

“Back before I became an officer we were out on this training exercise. They rushed us to this rendez-vous point only to tell us that we had a thirty-six hour wait ahead of us. Anyway, we had nothing by means of entertainment and one of my squad mates was a real kinky fucker so he ended up showin’ us a bunch of basic ties and shit. I liked the idea of it enough to do some more research and learned how to do it safely.”

That was typical. ‘Hurry up and wait’ was a common practice in the military. The most surprising part of that explanation to Leah was the fact that shibari required research beyond knowing how to make pretty knots.

Sy massaged Leah’s legs to make sure the blood flow returned once the ropes were off. He couldn’t help but picture the marks that would have been left had Leah not been wearing any clothing. Or how sexy she would have looked with the ropes still on. Going off Leah’s positive reaction, he allowed himself to look forward to doing it all again in the future.

Chapter 27

[lauronk]

I wish you'd write a fic where ellie was stressed with a job and joel was able to talk her through it and calm her down

this is not because I am stressed with my job hahahaha what

the spinny wheel of destiny picked yours! and boy what a choice because i have also been mad stressed at work lately.

wishing joel comfort upon anyone and everyone stressed at work lately!

what a way to make a livin'

length: ~1.9k words tags: joel & ellie; modern au; father-daughter relationship; shitty customers; retail work; no beta we die like david

All Ellie can think of right now - with this woman hollering in her face - is that gif of Emily Blunt from The Devil Wears Prada. Red eyes, stuffy nose, clicking around on the computer screen and murmuring under her breath “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.” Like it’s a mantra that she has to remind herself of, like if she says it enough times it’ll be true.

I love my job.

Except Ellie doesn’t really love her job all that much. She likes it, sure. It gives her a great discount on art supplies, helps her save up a little extra pocket money. Her coworkers are pretty cool too, always a bonus.

But she doesn’t exactly wanna be an art store clerk for the rest of her life, and people like this woman are exactly why.

She seems to have finally run out of breath, standing on the other side of the counter with her chest heaving and her cheeks scarlet, fury in her eyes. Ellie’d zoned out somewhere around it’s only missing one page and it’s barely a week past the return window and so now she stares at the woman a little blankly.

“Well?” She demands.

It’s right there, on the tip of Ellie’s tongue - Sorry, ma’am, I haven’t listened to a word of your bullshit, and I’m not doing your fucking return - but Jace had told her she was one more customer complaint from being canned. So she swallows it, pastes on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace, and forces out through gritted teeth, “Let me get a manager for you.”

She doesn’t get paid enough to get yelled at.

Jace, though, does, and more than that she loves getting to tell customers off; her face practically lights up at Ellie’s frustrated “She wants to return a used sketchbook purchased four months ago” and bolts to the register like she’s been told there’s a stack of cash there. Sure enough, after about a minute, the woman’s throaty yelling can be heard once again.

A customer in the paint aisle gives Ellie a commiserating look as she settles down onto the ground to take over Jace’s restocking.

“People can be such assholes, huh?” He says sympathetically, right as he takes a slurping sip of a McDonald’s drink and then sets it on top of a stack of canvases. He leaves it there too, and Ellie’s seized with the urge to pick it up and chuck it at the back of his head as he walks away.

You’re not any fucking better! She wants to scream at him.

Instead, she just scoops up the empty cup and tosses it in the trash, detouring to the bathroom to wash her hands afterwards.

Sketchbook Lady and Cup Man have both left by the time she reemerges, and Jace is strolling towards her with a vaguely triumphant air.

“Got her down to store credit for a quarter the value of the sketchbook,” she says happily, plopping back down onto the ground with the boxes of paint tubes. “And told her that if she abused any member of my staff next time she came in here I’d take her picture from the cameras and put a banned notice on the front windows for everyone to see.”

Ellie sighs tiredly, giving Jace a small smile. At least, if nothing else, she’s got a cool fucking boss.

One who’s watching her now with narrowed eyes, hands moving on autopilot as she labels and shelves the tubes. “Why don’t you go in the back and work on today’s shipment. Think we got nine boxes needing unpacking and inventorying back there.”

Ellie doesn’t even try to argue it - she just turns on her heel and strides off.

—

By the time she leaves three hours later, Ellie’s sweaty and exhausted, her head pounding with pressure behind her eyes. She’s supposed to get dinner with Dina and Jesse tonight, but she shoots them a text in the group begging off. She can’t, she just can’t, she’s too goddamn fried right now to socialize even with her best friends. So she just goes home. No music on the stereo, just a quiet podcast she’s only half paying attention to.

She doesn’t really feel herself relax until she’s pulled into her driveway.

Joel’s not home yet - his truck’s not in his driveway - so Ellie toes off her shoes by the front door and flops facedown onto the couch. Dina and Jesse like to poke fun at her for being almost twenty-one and still living at home with her dad, but Ellie loves it. She always jokingly replies that it’s cheaper that way, or that she doesn’t have to do her own laundry, or that Joel’s a better cook.

But really she just…hasn’t felt ready to move out. She’s been living with Joel since she was just shy of fifteen, the first home that she’s ever wanted to really stay in and had the feeling returned. All her foster homes before that were a mismatch, and then in a last ditch effort she got put with this cranky old fuck who Ellie had been sure was going to turn her out within a month.

He hadn’t though - he’d been the first person to ever really look at Ellie and see her.

Sue her, she wasn’t ready to move away from that yet.

Ellie gives herself ten minutes to decompress on the couch - with a few muffled screams into the cushions for good measure - before dragging herself down the hall to her bathroom and making herself take a scalding shower. Normally she cranks some music while she does it, but her head is still pounding and right now all she wants is some blessed quiet.

Fifteen minutes later she’s clean, in pajamas, and back on the couch with a bottle of water and her feet propped up. There’s a text on her phone from Joel saying he’s picked up takeout from Casa Colombia - Ellie’s stomach rumbles as soon as she reads it - so he’ll probably be home in another twenty minutes.

Hopefully by then she’s feeling less like peeling her skin off.

It’s ridiculous, Ellie knows that, letting herself get so worked up by a couple shitty customers at a retail job. She’s dealt with worse before, but some days it was just more frustrating than others - a constant stream of people who don’t see her as a person, simply a robot to find stuff for them or stand behind a register. And even the nice ones can get overwhelming when there’s so many of them. Just constant, non-stop interaction with people.

Ellie groans, letting her head fall back against the couch. All the stress that she’d managed to melt away with the hot shower and quiet time has come speeding back as she just sits here and wallows in her stupid, useless thoughts. Maybe she should’ve turned the television on to distract her.

The sound of the garage door opening greets her, and it lifts a weight off her chest.

Joel’s home.

“Food’s here!” He calls down the hall, and there’s a few thuds as he shucks his boots. Ellie doesn’t move, instead craning her head around to see him emerge, bags in hand. He’s grayer than he was when she moved in with him, wrinklier too. But he’s still Joel, still emanates that sense of safety she’s never been able to find anywhere else.

Still her favorite person in the world.

His brow furrows when he notices her sitting there, already in her pajamas - plaid pants and a (definitely not stolen from him) overlarge t-shirt adorned with a faded Cowboys star. He stills, head tilting as he looks her over. “‘Y’alright, kiddo?”

“Long day,” is all Ellie replies for now, pushing herself to stand so she can walk over and take the bags of food from his hands. Joel presses a quick kiss to her temple as she does, a gesture that never fails to fill her with warmth, before he heads to the cupboards to pull down plates.

They set the table and eat in silence, other than the occasional remark about the deliciousness of an arepa or the perfect seasoning on the churrasco. Ellie appreciates that about Joel, always has. He’s not one to talk about his own feelings, and so he doesn’t push her on hers. But when she wants to talk, he’ll be all ears. Probably have some good, weird southern wisdom too, something like you’ve got horse sense or just because a chicken has wings don’t mean it can fly.

Both things she’s heard him say in utter seriousness.

They both eat everything Joel’s brought home, and then Ellie handles the clean up and dishes while Joel goes to his room to shower and change. By the time he comes back in his own pajamas - which she definitely didn’t get him just because they matched hers - Ellie’s resumed her position on the couch, though with much less tension in her shoulders.

Amazing how much a good meal and quiet time with her favorite person can make the world seem like a good place again.

Joel lowers himself to the couch next to her with a sigh, a heavy hand patting her knee. “Gonna tell me what’s got you all up in your head?”

Ellie sighs, leaning over until her head is resting on Joel’s shoulder. “Just one of those days.”

She feels him shift, and then his cheek is resting against the crown of her head. “Tell me about it?”

The gentle question - one Ellie knows she could refuse to answer, say she doesn’t feel like talking about it - asked in his rough twang, does the same thing it has since she was a teenager. It makes her open her mouth and the words come flowing out.

She tells Joel about Sketchbook Lady and Cup Man and the person who’d hung up on her and the older man who’d kept staring at her chest and the woman who had practically tossed her payment in Ellie’s face and the perfectly nice lady who wanted to tell Ellie her whole life story while purchasing one pack of coloring pencils and a single tube of red paint.

It’s still draining, reliving all the seemingly trivial interactions she’d had, but this time it’s like unloading a weight from her shoulders. By the time she stops talking, finally done, Ellie feels like she could just pass out right there against his shoulder and sleep dreamlessly.

“‘M sorry you had such a day,” Joel replies quietly, readjusting them so his arm’s around her shoulders, and he squeezes ever so slightly. “I bet you'll probably have more shitty ones though, sorry to tell you. But just remember that you're good at your job and they're lucky as hell to have you, baby. And you can handle some shitty assholes. 'F you can't, just let me at 'em.” Ellie chuckles softly, burrowing a little closer to him.

They're both quiet for a few minutes, and Ellie's just about to suggest popping a movie in and digging into the ice cream in the freezer when Joel speaks. “You’re off the next two days, ain't you?”

“Yeah.”

His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, tilting her so he can press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t you ‘n me take a little day trip or somethin’? Go down to San Antonio, hang out at the Riverwalk. Or we could go out to Fredericksburg?” He offers the last suggestion a little hopefully, and Ellie grins.

“You just wanna go back to the World War II museum,” she teases.

“...No.”

Ellie giggles, eyes slipping shut when his dull fingernails start to scratch over her scalp. “Fredericksburg it is, then.”

thanks for reading!

if you sent a prompt to my inbox, i promise i am still planning to do them all. but i also wanna get the next chappy of if you can wait finished and posted soonish too, so it might be a moment before you see another. and i will once again leave it up to the spinny wheel of destiny.

love y'all!

[desmond69miles]

The Catch

This is sort of a prologue to 'An Artists Eye'. It uses the same way of meeting/Élise and Bellec are still alive, but reading the previous fic is not necessary! This is supposed to be after the game (but obviously a different ending), it more so came out as a completly different timeline- what the hell it's fiction anyway

Arno offers to show you around the hidden assassin base below Cafe Theatre. He also offers a risky sexual time in a small, curtain-drawn study in the archives.

Warnings/Tags: Google translated French, GN reader (no descriptions listed), oral sex/blowjob, risky sex, getting caught, probably ooc Axeman but IDK anything about him (he 'flirts' with you).

Word Count: 3.4k (rounded up)

AO3 LINK: Here

Enjoy.

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Arno Dorian was a man of many suits. He drank like a monster, risked his life daily in more ways than one, and fought like a madman. But, he was an attentive lover. Caring and somewhat good-natured when it came to you.

You were wary of Arno's regular disappearances and injuries once you started dating him, perhaps a little more worried than a normal partner would be. You weren't sure if his gambling was getting him into fistfights or if he got into one too many scraps with local drunks, but you could never recall a time when he didn't come back to you unharmed. 

At first, you’d thought him a thief or maybe a smuggler. To your surprise, he was neither (or both) but an assassin. You laughed at him then, giving him a look of disbelief, but when he stayed stone-faced, your look of humor soon turned into panic. 

“Arno,” you had said, “you cannot be serious. An assassin?” He gave you a slight smirk that you can still picture perfectly today and took your hands in his. “Yes, an assassin. I’ve been one since I was twenty-two.” He said it so plainly that there was no other truth besides that- a killer. You weren’t scared, though, and perhaps you should have been. You trusted him not to get himself captured or, worse, killed. 

Despite your trust, he did come home wounded quite often. The unexplained injuries suddenly made a lot more sense, especially the stab and slash marks from a sword--and, god forbid, a bullet hole once in a blue moon. While you weren’t thrilled about becoming skilled at suturing your lover, you got exceptionally good at it. In return, Arno affectionately called you ‘mon infirmière.’

My nurse.

“Arno,” you sighed nervously while threading a needle. “You know that you’re supposed to stick them with your sword, not be stuck by their sword, right?” He laughed and winced after, fists clenching at the two-centimeter-deep slash wound on his right side. “Oui, mon amour, I’m well aware. Sometimes, it’s a bit difficult while fighting three people at the same time.” You side-eye him then, tutting. “I have you, though, mon infirmière. You are much more gentler than Elise and not as scrutinizing.” 

You also missed him a lot, even when he was right beside you. The constant fear that he might one day leave and never come back haunted you.  Every time he returned in the dead of the night, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief. You would thank him, your voice barely audible as he quietly removed his boots, careful not to disturb your sleep. 

It’s been six months since you’ve started dating Arno. Your worry decreased dramatically during that time. Partially because the longest missions Arno’s been on are only a few days to a week at most, partially because he’d always spend a day or two before that mission with you doing things he’d know would quell your stress. This time, though, he’d be traveling to Toulouse for three weeks: six hundred and seventy-eight kilometers, a day and a half carriage ride away.

Arno was going to leave in two days, and he had been spending time with you in between the preparations. You sat in a chair by the fire, scribbling around your sketchbook. Arno was gone—probably below Cafe Theatre or in the study—the only thing keeping you company was the gentle crackling of the flames and the songbirds chirping outside in the terrace garden. Summer was coming to its final stretch and starting to transition into fall. Leaves were turning into gorgeous shades of red and orange, the temperature just warm enough to leave without a coat, and the apple trees were blooming to make the perfect apple cider. 

A beautiful time of growth and change, and you’d be experiencing it with mostly Elise and your best friend (not that you had anything against Elise or your best friend; you did love them, but something about fall was so romantic). 

“Mon amour,” a disembodied voice said, “what are you drawing?” His hands rested on your shoulders, squeezing lovingly before he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.  “Eurasian jays,” you replied, moving your gaze from the crisp paper to your lover. He stole a chaste kiss and looked at your page of elegantly drawn birds. Arno recognized them as the bird that stole a piece of your bread a few months back, a smile drawing to his face. 

Arno sighed through his nose. “How are you?” he asked, his voice ever more soothing at this peaceful moment. “Alright. How is your work going? Are you still leaving in two days?” His slight noise had confirmed, although he did not speak, and he moved one of his hands down, carefully taking your sketchpad away and setting it down on the table next to the chair. 

“I have something that might put your mind at ease during my mission,” Arno said softly. “The Council has permitted you to visit our headquarters. You can meet my mentor and our fellow assassins. While you can't go there alone, I thought it might comfort you to see where I spend my time.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, quickly taking his hand as he helped you stand.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I weren’t certain,” he replied, reassuringly smiling. “There aren’t many people there right now, maybe my mentor or a few friends. We could go now if you’d like?” You chewed your lip briefly, pretending to ponder before nodding. “Alright, let’s go.”

Arno led you down the familiar hallways of Cafe Theatre, but this time, he stopped at a spot you had never taken much notice of before. With an odd-looking key that you’ve never seen before slotted into the lock, the dark wooden door swung open with a quiet groan. Inside was a dimly lit staircase that descended into a stone hallway with a red rug lining the middle.  “This way,” he said, taking your hand as he guided you into the dimly lit corridor.

The passage trailed downward, the air growing cooler and damper as you descended. The walls were lined with old, worn stone, and the faint scent of old books and earth made up the air. Arno walked with the confidence of a man who’d traversed these halls too many times to count, his gloved fingertips brushing against the bricks while his arm that didn’t wield the blade held your hand. 

Eventually, you arrived at the bottom of the staircase. The hallway was much grander than you had seen from the top of the stairs--curtains framing big paintings of what you assumed were important figures in the assassin world, numerous pedestals holding silver or iron statues, and a large red tapestry with a white emblem on it hanging from the tall ceilings, the Creed’s sigil. The room was illuminated by torches mounted on the walls, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced over Arno’s face and shadowed a beautiful gleam on him. 

Once the hallway ended, there was a room containing a long table surrounded by haphazardly pushed-in chairs. On all four sides of the room was another hallway, but the one in front of you led into a vast room resembling a courtroom. It was no less magnificent than the hallways—possibly a little more—such as the oak table covered in various maps and documents and the walls lined with weapons and other neatly organized tools of the trade. 

Arno turns to you with a gentle smile, speaking in a tone that feels a little too loud for the setting, “This is where I spend much of my time when I’m not with you. It’s not much, but it’s home.” 

You took in your surroundings with a deep breath. There was a strange comfort, as well as uncertainty and awe, seeing where Arno lived most of his life. You had talked about seeing the creed’s hideout when you first found out about his position, and honestly, what you saw now was not what you envisioned in your mind. When you think of Assassin, you think of torturing and other dark things. While you were sure it did happen, there was no hint of it here. 

True to his word, there weren’t many people in the hideout. In fact, there wasn’t a soul around. “Is it normal for there not to be people?” You ask, looking at Arno as he wraps an arm around your waist. “No. Usually, there are many people, but most of us are out on missions, and the council is out on a meeting with-” “Arno!” 

“Axeman, mon ami!” 

You turned your head to the right to see a man walking towards you, an axe strapped on his back. You rolled your eyes playfully at the ‘clever’ name of his friend. Axeman slapped his hand on Arno’s shoulder in a hello, his brown eyes meeting yours. “And half of us thought you made them up,” he jests, sticking his hand out for you to take and gently kissing the back of your hand. “How could I make someone so great up?” Arno smiles, and his arm briefly squeezes you closer. 

Axeman chuckles while running a hand through his pushed-back brown hair. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat with your lovely partner, I do have a mission to get to.” He gives you a small smile and Arno a playful smack again, turning to walk the way you came in. “Bellec’s around, so be on your best behavior.” 

Once his buddy left, your lover turned to you, giving you a frisky smirk. “Let me give you a tour,” Arno grabbed your hand again with a slight squeeze and led you deeper into the underground hideout, his hand warm even through the worn leather glove. “This way,” Arno said, pulling you to the left hallway. This passage was thinner than the others and dimly lit by candelabras placed every five feet, occasional carvings etched into the stone walls between large pillars. Large wooden doors started after the fourth pillar, and Arno took you to the second one on the right side, swinging open the heavy door and nodding you inside. 

“This is the main training room.” He gestured with a flourish, letting you step inside and look around. The space was huge, with mats covering the floor. Wooden dummies and targets lined two of the four walls, some riddled with throwing knives and arrows, some looking so broken it was just remembrance of rough training. Three assassins were sparring, one sitting down to the side drinking water and two practicing their knife skills. 

“Care for a quick lesson?” He teased, knowing full well that you weren’t one for battling people, instead gnats or annoying flies that buzzed around. “Maybe later,” you replied with a grin, “What’s next?” 

He followed you out and closed the door behind him, leading you across the hall into the next door. “Here is the armory.” The room opened to reveal wooden walls lined with weapons of every kind: swords, daggers, pistols, rifles, smoke bombs, bomb bombs, and, of course, things to maintain the hidden blade. Each was meticulously maintained and ready for action. “Most of us have our preferred weapons, so this is mainly for recruits or people who have lost a weapon. Pick any weapon, and it’ll have a story,” Arno said, following you inside.

His fingers brushed an ornate-looking sword, the beautiful engraving on the blade glinting in the candlelight. You reached out, touching a dagger with an intricate hilt next to the sword Arno was looking at. “What about this one?”

“Ah, that belonged to Thomas de Carneillon, an assassin in the 13th and 14th century,” Arno explained, “he tried to steal a sword of Eden, the same one that killed Germaine.” He gives you an inquisitive look and lets you wander around the round room, watching as you observe the weapons with a curiosity that makes his stomach twinge in an absurd kind of attractiveness. 

Once you circle the room and return to Arno, he offers his hand again and leads you out of the room and deeper into the hallway. “You’ll love this,” he assures, motioning towards the end of the hallway where a huge arch opened up to a library. “This is the south archive,” he said, smiling at your giddy smile. 

It smelled like old parchment, ink, and worn leather-bound books, a scent that engrained itself in your brain. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and books lined the walls, going up to the ceiling where a giant metal chandelier hung. Maroon velvet curtains lined the arch, and when you slipped into the library, you didn’t notice Arno tugging the golden rope that held them back. The drapes made a soft noise as they closed, dimming the room just the slightest bit, and Arno watched as your fingers trailed over the spines of the books. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured. “You said that this is the South archive?” Arno hummed a ‘yes,’ coming up behind you as you pulled one of the smaller books off the shelf. He wrapped his arms around your hips and kissed your temple, scanning the book you opened. “This library isn’t the biggest one here, but this one is always empty, perfect for us.” 

Arno watched the trail of your fingertips against the worn paper, gentle like your fingers when you trail them over Arno’s back. His eyes followed your hand as you turned the page, forefinger and thumb pinching the page like when you pinch your nipple while he’s fingering you. He should not be turned on right now. 

“Arno,” you said, head turning to look at your lover behind you. His eyes caught yours, your pretty eyes that always glistened right before you orgasmed, and right then, he made up his mind. Before you could speak again, Arno had pressed his lips against your soft ones, maybe just a little too roughly, the leather of the book in your hands creaking with how hard you gripped it. 

His hand grabbed the book from your hands and placed it back on the shelf with a little bit of struggle. Nipping your bottom lip, Arno’s hands gripped your hips and slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He tasted like wine and something sweet--something him-- and god, you’d be lying if it wasn’t intoxicating for the both of you. When you did pull away, a slim bridge of saliva connected your lips and snapped when he licked his. You were suddenly very aware of the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into--his erection pressed into your behind and his needy hands wandering your body.

“We’re in the base,” you un-needily whispered, sucking in a small breath as his lips moved to your jaw and pressed a kiss just behind your jawbone. “Oui, but we are alone. No one is near us, and we’ll be quiet.” You shakily breathed as he continued to kiss along the side of your neck and fuck; if the thought of risk didn’t set a throbbing between your legs, you weren’t sure what did. 

With an enthusiastic nod, Arno grabbed your hand and pulled you to one of the curtain-drawn study rooms off to the side. As he did with the entrance to the archive, Arno pulled the rope holding the drapes back off and dropped it to the floor. The ambient candlelight under the curtains, the only light in the ‘private’ study room, set a surprisingly intimate aura as Arno’s hand cups the side of your face and kisses you again. This one was headier, making your mind swim as his other hand grabbed your butt, pushing your hips into his. 

Your hands that had been resting on his shoulders slipped down his chest and to his belt, one palming his obvious arousal and the other fiddling with the belt buckle. He groaned into your mouth, hips chasing your hand as you moved it up to help undo the buckle. His hands joined yours in a messy struggle, and once his belt was undone, you immediately sank to your knees. 

Arno swore--a short, breathy ‘merde’ that sent every single ounce of blood that was in your brain rushing south, and with that blood came a fleeting thought of how easy it was to get you to suck him off in a place with people. It wasn’t the first time that you had sexual interactions in a public place--far from it--but it was the first time that you’d be on the giving end. 

His hand came to rest on the back of your head as your fingers unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down with his undergarments just to free his cock. Even in the darkness, you could tell that he was fully hard, your hand that didn’t rest on his hip coming to stroke him teasingly slow. Your thumb swiped over his tip that dribbled precum, and his hips twitched with a soft groan that was nothing short of heavenly. 

You softly pressed your lips against his head and trailed them down his shaft, letting your spit dribble against his heated skin and slicking him up with your hand. His quiet groans and the schlick of your hand made up the space--an erotic opera--and finally, your lips slipped around his tip and gently sucked. “Dieu, fuck, don’t stop,” Arno groaned, hips rocking in time with the drawls and push of your head. After enough saliva drips from your mouth and down his cock you took him deeper in just so the head of his cock was resting against the back of your tongue. 

Arno moved both of his hands to the side of your head and gently held you in place, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, and he began to thrust into your mouth. At first, his thrusts were shallow, but as your hands came to his thighs once again, Arno gave a chuckle and picked up his pace. You slid your tongue against the underside of him, and he let out a groan, one that was a little too loud. “Good job, mon amour, good job…” 

No matter how many times you took him in any way, there was never a time where he failed to make you so painfully aroused. 

“Suck,” Arno said, stopping his movements rather deep inside the constrictive heat of your throat and petting your head. And just like he said, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. His head thudded against the wall he had his back rested on, and, oh, that groan. Primal and needy and wanting in every sinful way known to man. “S'il vous plaît, continuez, putain, juste comme ça. Tu me prends si bien- si bien, fuck!”

His fingers threaded through your hair and gripped the strands, holding them tight as he rocked against your mouth. Arno was so, so close, you just needed to suck a little harder and-

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ARNO?!” 

You immediately pull off of Arno, who seems equally surprised but, strangely enough, not embarrassed. You wiped the back of your mouth with your hand and turned around, face mortified at the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. He shook his head and turned around, letting the curtain fall behind him, and you could still tell he was outside due to the shadow from under the drapes. Arno haphazardly tucked himself back into his pants and offered you a hand up off the ground. When he pulled you up, you gave him a look, one that said Arno, are you fucking kidding me? but all he did was chuckle and step out of the study. 

“Désolé, Bellec.” Your lover said, utterly unphased by the fact you had just been caught in a very precarious and intimate moment, and you heard a sigh from not Arno. “You never fail to amaze me, pisspot,” The man- Bellec- laughed. 

You stood in the study for a good fifteen minutes with your face aflame, too embarrassed to even walk out of the hideout. 

Thankfully the second meeting with Bellec was not when you were sucking Arno off and instead over wine (that doesn’t mean you weren’t a hot-faced mess with an embarrassed smile on your face throughout the whole thing, though). 

[poopwons]

Thinking about Artist!Jean being just the SWEETEST boyfriend when his girl isn’t feeling herself. 😭😭

Modern Au, Fluff, fem reader, No use of y/n, this is purely self indulgent, and my first ever fic I’m actually posting, sorry if it’s bad writing 💀

TW: anxious thoughts, insecurities, reader doesn’t feel good enough, I think that’s all??

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You come into the apartment in a huff, putting your things down and going to the fridge to get some water.

“Hey,” Jean starts, as he walks into the kitchen from his studio down the hall, before he stops and takes in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, not really wanting to go into all of it, all your insecurities and the anxiety you’ve dealt with throughout today.

None of your clothes fit the way you wanted them to, making you feel like nothing you put on looked even remotely good. You were sporting an acne break out from stress? Hormones? Who fucking knows, but it’s annoying. The fact that in every window you walked by today, you saw your reflection and just felt…not pretty enough. And you do all of the things your therapist recommends when you’re feeling low like this, you’ve been working out, eating right, trying to drink more water. Not to mention the affirmations you had scribbled on your mirror in the bathroom. But some days, the irrational side of your brain wins out. Today you could not see past any of the things you don’t like about yourself. You weren’t able to view the whole picture and instead focused on the small flaws. Even going to lunch with your friends was discouraging, watching them all sport smiles and feel confident in themselves. It seemed effortless for them. And nothing ever felt effortless for you. You felt like you had to work so hard to even feel some semblance of the confidence your friends exude daily.

“What happened?” Jean asks, coming around the counter, wrapping his big arms around you pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving down to your lips. “Do I need to beat somebody up?”

“Not unless you wanna beat up your own girlfriend.”

“Mm. That kind of bad day, huh?” He says softly, tilting your head to look at him before he kisses you again.

Jean knows about your struggles, you’ve been together for a while now, so it would have been impossible for him not to notice. He tries to do the most for you when it gets like this. He knows you can’t help it, that it tends to come in waves. You’ve been stressed at work lately and that usually bleeds into your anxiety.

“Come here, Pretty.” He says, pulling you by your hand to lead you to the couch, sitting you down and getting the blanket off the back to wrap it around you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He turns to go back to his studio, but not before turning on your usual comfort show for you.

He comes back into the living room and sits down with you, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

“You don’t have to work out here.. I know you have a deadline.” You say softly from your spot on the couch, not wanting to distract him from his work just because you had a bad day.

“I got that piece done already, this is something different. It’s not work, so I’m gonna sit with you. Besides, I haven’t seen you all day.” He says leaning over to press another quick kiss to your lips, before leaning with his back on the arm of the couch, knees up with his sketch book pressed to them.

It’s pretty normal for Jean to draw in his free time when he’s not working on commissions for clients. It’s his chance to work on stuff he actually likes and lets him get more creative without the constraints of a clients wishes. You turn your attention back to the show, finding comfort in this cute little routine you two have. The warmth of his body next to yours while he scribbles on his page, the faint sound of the pencil scratching the paper, when the two of you get time like this everything else in the world kind of drowns out.

While half your brain is still going on and on about the ways you’re not good enough and ways you could improve, you try to focus on the show, trying to ignore all those other thoughts. You laugh at a part you’ve seen probably a hundred times, but you still find it just as funny as the first time. You glance over at Jean who’s smiling down at his paper, his eyes flitting between the tv and the paper. He doesn’t normally show you his free time stuff until it’s finished, so you don’t bother asking him what he’s working on, knowing that you’ll find out eventually.

The two of you sit like that for a couple hours, just enjoying being in each others company, chatting idly about the show and some stuff the two of you have going on over the weekend. After a few more moments, Jean shifts again, sitting closer to you, his sketch book splayed open to the page he was working on as he puts his arm around you. When you finally glance down at it, a look of surprise spreads across your face.

“Is that..me?” You ask softly, taking the book in your hands to examine the drawing further.

Jean simply nods, offering you a small mumble of affirmation with a little grin on his lips. As you look over the paper you see how he’s drawn you, plush lips turned up into a wide grin, you’re laughing. Your eyes are bright and you look..happy, your hair is in beautiful waves, no frizz in sight. There’s another small drawing in the corner of the page, it looks like he’s just drawn your eyes alone, shining and bright. It hits you then that when he lifted his head up from the page earlier, he hadn’t been watching the tv, he’d been looking at you.

Taking the book you look at the front cover and realize that this isn’t his usual sketch book. You flip to the front of the book and go through the pages, as you flip through it you have to fight back the tears that well in your eyes. Every page, is filled with you, sketches, drawings, some with color some without. Some pages are just studies of your features where he was trying to get your smile right, or your eyes. Some of them are full body drawings, and you recognize your own clothes, days when you’d send him selfies of your outfits with a big happy smile.

You look over at him with a soft smile, “what is this?”

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s you, baby. Whenever I’m having an art block or can’t think of what I want to draw, I just..draw you.”

“You drew me so pretty..”

“You are pretty. More than pretty.” He says, leaning into you to press another kiss to your temple, resting his head against yours. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought about it when you came home and said you felt bad, that I wished you could see yourself the way I do. I thought, maybe I should just show you.”

You continue flipping through the pages, they aren’t all happy drawings. Some of them are clearly from some times when you weren’t feeling your best, but even in the ones where you have a sad expression, or tears in your eyes, he still drew you beautifully. Even when you felt your worst he still thought you were beautiful.

“Thank you…for this.” You say softly, turning towards him to softly kiss his lips, setting the sketchbook down on the table and pulling yourself into his lap to wrap your arms around him.

“Just drawing what I see, nothing else.” He murmurs as he buries his face into your neck, pressing a kiss there before holding you tightly.

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✨I want this man so bad, that is all.✨

Thanks for reading!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Serendipity (CH 5)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2586

Warning: Mild language, fluff, smut, angst, graphic scenes, death, murder, gore, violence, mature material…

Prompt: You have a major crush on Gibbs, however you choose to push it away as you fear he doesn’t feel the same way. Suddenly there is a bunch of chances that lead to a happy ending…

I was calm now and Abby fixed my makeup for me. She had an extra shirt for me to borrow. It was a black crop top with a plunge neckline. I had more chest area than Abby so I pulled at the shirt trying to cover it some. It had some chains criss-crossing across it and there was a skull with a bow on the shirt.

"You look great! Now go kick some ass...and save that camera and sketchbook." She says.

I laugh, hugging her before taking the stairs. It goes silent in the bullpen as they look at me. I shift uncomfortably.

"I-I didn't have an extra shirt. A-Abby lent me one of hers." I mumble.

Gibbs walks to my desk, grabbing my blazer as he throws it at me. Tony catches it before it could hit me in the face like it would have. He gives me a small smile, handing it to me. I nod slightly, shrugging it on as I go to my desk.

I open my sketchbook, grabbing tissues to soak up some of the coffee. It was effortless, but it kept me distracted. I grab my camera, pulling out cleaning wipes to clean it up. I turn it on and was relieved to see that it worked. I move the pictures over to my laptop before sending them to Tim and Abby.

I open my sketchbook and work away at it in silence despite the tension I felt. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me want to shrink away and disappear.

I start pulling the sketches out, pinning them to my empty bulletin board. I study them, trying to ignore the coffee stain. I grab the sketchbook and throw it in the bin.

"Problem, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"Boss, she has to have clear paper. It bothers her if it isn't. I think the coffee is making her upset." Tim says quietly.

"Y/N/N, don't you have an extra in your drawer?" Ziva asks softly.

I hated this. I was being treated like a baby since this stupid accident. I pull the sketches down, shoving them in a drawer as I grab my keys and my phone, jogging towards the elevator.

I was in the closet art store within minutes. I stood in the sketchbook aisle for a good twenty minutes, just staring.

"Ziva said you'd be here." Gibbs mumbles, moving to stand beside me.

I continue staring at the sketchbooks. I was kind of mental over my sketchbooks. I knew I was. But, I've never experienced something this bad before. Not to mention on top of this last week.

Gibbs stands next to me silently, observing me. I tried to keep my cards close to my chest, not wanting him to figure me out. I was falling to pieces and the only person who knew was Abby.

I step forward, grabbing a pile of sketchbooks and adding them to the cart. I got three different sizes, all the same color. I got like ten of each one. Hopefully it'll be awhile until I need more. I push the cart to the pencil aisle with Gibbs silently following behind me.

"Your trying to find a sense of control." He murmurs from behind me.

I keep silent. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. Either way, I found myself angered that he was trying to profile me. I reach out, grabbing a pack of sketching pencils to read the back. It's the brand I always get, but I found peace in reading the description on the back before tossing a bunch of packs of pencils in my cart. I found myself drifting through the aisles, tossing random stuff in my cart before paying.

I get to my car, ignoring Gibbs. I drive back, aware that he was right there behind me. I grab the bags and head towards the building. I try going for the stairs, but he grabs my arm and pulls me into the elevator. I stay silent, even when he presses the emergency stop button.

"I shouldn't of snapped at you earlier." He admits.

"Rule six." I mutter.

"I didn't say I was sorry. I just admitted I was in the wrong earlier." He says, quirking a brow at me.

"Sounded like an apology." I mutter.

"Maybe it was. Look, I shouldn't of snapped. I had no right. Your right though. I was jealous. It's hard not to be jealous though. The thought of losing you...it's a hard one to grasp." He admits quietly.

"Your the one who said we can't do this and I should just lose my feelings for you. Your the one who said I should find someone else. All because of your stupid rules." I snap.

"I know...can we talk after this case is done? At my house over some steak and beer. Please." He asks.

I stare at him for a moment before nodding slowly. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. It probably wasn't. He probably was going to explain how we couldn't be together and why. Did I want to hear anymore bullshit? No. I didn't.

The elevator doors opening snap me out of my thoughts. Gibbs walks out, stopping as he waits for me to step out. I ignore the teams concerned stares as I walk to my desk. I sit on the ground, opening the drawer as I pull the coffee-stained drawings out.

"Next time I see that asshole, I'm going to deck him." I say.

"What?" Tim asks horrified from behind me as Gibbs chuckles.

"Who is she talking about?" Ziva asks surprised.

"Where has our innocent baby Y/N gone?" Tony asks.

I wasn't one for violence. I looked at the upside of...well everything. Even if someone made me upset, I tried to keep it together. I run out of room for my sketchbooks and sigh.

I look up when Gibbs grabs a pile. I was confused as he puts a pile in his bottom desk drawer before handing a pile to Ziva, Tony and Tim.

"There. You have plenty on hand and now everyone has them on stock in case you run out." He says, patting my head since he could ruffle it since it was up.

I pull out a new sketchbook, taking the plastic off it. I grab a pencil and start sketching the crime scenes away. I didn't like to redraw. It threw me off. It didn't feel right having to do it a second time.

Nonetheless, I finish them and hang them back on the bulletin board, tossing the other ones in the trash. I study the drawings, my pen between my teeth and my notepad rested against my knee.

I start writing away, glancing up at the pictures occasionally.

"Y/N?" I hear.

I look up and see the shrink. I let a puff of air out, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I don't think we are done talking. You dodged all my questions. I won't let up until I get answers." She says.

"I died. Then Gibbs brought me back. I died again on the ambulance. They brought me back. Then I was in a hospital for two days. Alone on one. Talked to the shrink there. Went home. Dreaded not being able to work a week, but now I'm here. I'm fine. Can you please leave me alone now?" I ask.

"I talked to the therapist at the hospital. Who said you also dodged their questions. You never should have been discharged until you properly answered the questions. That is why I'm not letting up." She says.

"I'm this bloody close to decking you. Your really starting to piss me off." I grumble.

Thankfully, Tim only heard me and he slowly turned to me with wide eyes. I tilt my head at him, narrowing my eyes, daring him to say something.

"She's great! She's just a little grumpy from her run in with this guy earlier. He spilt coffee on her." Tim says.

"Your intimidated by her. From what I gather, she's typically happy and bubbly. However, she seems to be quiet, distant, agitated, on edge and even a bit angry. None of you are use to this side of her." She says.

I take a deep breath in before slowly letting it out. My phone rings and I give her one final glare before answering my phone.

"Hey Abs, what's up?" I ask.

"The shrink lady is coming to talk to you! She wouldn't stop asking questions and more questions and I snapped! But I was trying to understand why she won't stop prying because she doesn't even do that on Ziva or Gibbs! So I did some digging! She's the wife of the get-away unsub who tried to kill you!" Abby exclaims.

"Thanks Abs. I'll be down here in a bit. Relay the message to Gibbs." I say.

I smile, hanging up the phone as I look at the shrink. She taps her clipboard as Gibbs' phone rings. I stand, walking towards her. I heard Gibbs set the phone down and I pull my fist back, hitting her in the nose.

She sways before falling back. I look down at her before heading back to my desk. It was quiet and I look up, smiling.

"Boss!" Tim exclaims.

"The man who tried to kill Y/N...that's his wife. She wanted to see if she remembered her husband or not." Gibbs says, shrugging.

"Did you know? Is that why you said you wanted to deck her earlier?" Tim asks.

"I didn't know then. She was making me mad. I feel better now. A lot better. I think I just needed to hit someone!" I say, smiling.

"Let's not make this our way of letting our anger out." Gibbs says, giving me a lopsided smirk and I shrug. 

"You can always come with me to the gym. They have some punching bags there." Ziva offers.

"I'll take you up on that." I say.

"There is also other ways to let your anger out, Y/N. It can be with a lover, between the sheets, hot...passionate and anger. Ah! I'll stop boss! Please don't hit me!" Tony pleads as Gibbs slowly stands.

"I don't have a lover, Tony. So a punching bag will do." I say.

"You gonna fill us in on what you know, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"On what?" I ask.

"The case of course." He says in a duh tone.

I scramble up, my cheeks flushing red as he chuckles. I grab a random clear board we keep nearby just because I do my sketches and hang them up before putting them at the front of the bullpen. I stand, staring at the board from the end of the bullpen.

"Alright, the unsub stood between two big oak trees for awhile. I'd say he's been watching out victims the past two to three days at most from the cigarettes on the ground. He had perfect view through the window and the sliding doors. Through the window, he could see the kitchen and living room. Through the sliding doors, he could see the hallway. Our unsub slips in, walks to the living room, pulls the gun out, bam. Husband is dead. The wife was the target." I say, the scene unfolding around me once again.

"How do you know that?" Tim asks.

"The husband was shot execution style. However, the wife underwent extensive pain. She was stabbed in the chest several times, each wound reaching her heart. Maybe a way of communicating his heartbreak or jealousy. Then postmortem he went to overkill by one shot to the head, bam. He took his time with the wife from the report I gathered from Ducky. She went through tremendous pain and was awake." I say.

"Why was the living room trashed then?" Tony asks.

"Well, earlier that night before the couple was murdered, the neighbors filed a noise complaint which then turned to a domestic violence call once the dispatcher gathered that there was screaming and some furniture could be heard breaking. The officers came and went, hesitant. The fight picked back up after, before the two went to separate rooms. From what I could gather, they seem to be on rocky terms. Her ring was in the sock drawer and she had the bedroom. He was sleeping in the living room." I say.

"So, what about the unsub in all of this?" Tim asks.

"I'm going to say that it's safe to assume that the wife walks to her room to take a breather, maybe go to the master bath and splash some water on her face. Then the unsub comes in from the sliding doors. The husband, our marine sergeant, wasn't paying attention. He was trying to cool down himself and get a grasp on his temper. There's a painting above the fireplace. It's of their wedding venue. He was staring at it when he heard a noise. He turns around, bam. The unsub fires of a shot before he could fight. Unsub hides around the corner as the wife comes to investigate when she hears a big thump and finds her husband dead. Then the unsub attacks her." I say.

"I like it. Now, we need to determine who our unsub is." Gibbs says.

"I've narrowed it down a bit. I found a boot print and a bunch of cigarettes between the trees. Abby is still running some tests on the cigarette buds. However, the boot print is a size thirteen marine boot. The pattern is one to the marine boots. Could be a buddy of the husbands maybe. I'm going to estimate that he's about six two with a heavy build or he's heavier set because the weight left behind on the boot print." I explain.

"Any profile?" Ziva asks.

"Again, I think it's safe to assume the wife was the target. The couple is our only murder so far and hopefully it stays that way. So, it's kind of set it in stone that the unsub is more than likely an ex-lover, the baby daddy, a jealous friend of the husbands friend who wanted the wife, or maybe this man knew something we didn't and thought he was protecting the husband. However, that's a leap as he did kill the husband. The wife was the target. She was overkill. I'd suggest that it stems from betrayal, jealously and definitely anger. With how motivated he was for the murders, I'd also like to suggest that he's going to be quite cool and laxed about this. He's probably narcissistic, has strong views on a woman's role, temper-issues and I'd say even paranoid. However, I don't have enough to build on the profile so it very well could be wrong." I say.

"What does your gut say?" Gibbs asks.

"That I'm hungry." I say and everyone chuckles, including Gibbs.

"We will go get lunch soon." He says.

"Okay. However, aside from being hungry, I feel pretty confident about the case built and the profile I presented." I say.

"Then we will go with your word." He says.

I sit, feeling relieved we were closer to the end of this case. However, it did make me nervous at the thought of the end of the case. That meant I'd have dinner with Gibbs and I was dreading it. I knew how it'd go.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// The Rules of K. Ink. inked 03. //

prev << 03 >> next

*The nature of this series may be not be appropriate for all readers. Content warnings include: vulgarity, heavy swearing, and implications of adult relations.  Due to these themes, this series may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16.  Reader discretion is advised.*

Kuroo Tetsurou knew he made a mistake when you came waltzing in with that cocky grin plastered on your face.  He was hoping that, at the very least, you would have some humility with the situation, but you just proceeded to sidle right up next to him at the counter, eyes trained up at him as if you were the one giving him the opportunity of his dreams.

“Well, well, alley cat.  I had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to resist me,” you say low and smooth, the corner of your mouth twitching up into a teasing smirk.

He could already feel the steady drum of a headache settling in behind his temple and he had a sneaky suspicion that it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.  His bright eyes blinked slowly, almost unamused, before he pushed away from the counter, walking off further into the shop leaving you behind. 

“If you’re going to work with me, kid, you better learn to move those damn legs,” he shouts, leaving you to scramble in an effort to catch up to him.  This was everything that you’ve been hoping for ever since you first stumbled across his Instagram feed all those years ago.  He had just been starting, no more than 200 followers and maybe a dozen likes on his posts, but the talent and the seeming mastery of the craft was all there, even if he was only 20.  His page had grown with him as an artist and you had been right there every step of the way, admiring from afar, picking up his techniques and incorporating them into your own work.  He was, to put it simply, your biggest inspiration, your push in the right direction.

You clutched the strap of your bag.  It had been in the back of your car, waiting patiently for the call that you knew was coming.  Sketchbook, pens, pencils, inks of various colors, everything that you could possibly need to make the most out of your tattoo artist apprenticeship.  You felt like a kid wandering around a toy store.  Frames upon frames of artwork were displayed in the front window of the shop, each piece signed with an extravagant ‘KT’ in the bottom corner.  Paintings of various sizes littered the walls depicting various landscapes and buildings, each one seeming to carry an essence of home between the brush strokes.  It has you slowing to a stop, leaning in close for a better view at all of the tiny individual shapes that pulled the full picture together.

“Did you make these?”

“Rule number one.  Don’t ask pointless questions.  You’re here to learn, not uncover my life story.”  Kuroo doesn’t even bother to look back at you.  He just pushes open a door to a small supply closet, taking something down from a shelf.  His smile was almost too kind when he turned back to you, but his eyes didn’t carry that same sentiment.  They were almost cruel, narrowed to a point that you could barely make out any color at all.  “Welcome to K. Ink.  It is K dot Ink and you will call it as such.”

“But your sign says-”

“I know what it says!”

“And your instagr-”

“K.Ink was taken!”

“So you chose k-”

“Rule number two! Do not call my shop or anything associated with it Kink!  Now, I have some work to finish, so I can’t deal with you right now. Bokuto took a massive shit earlier and now the bathroom fucking reeks, so I’m going to need you to take care of that for me.  Unfortunately, our toilet brush is having some technical difficulties and had to be taken to the repair shop, but luckily for you, we do have this toothbrush.  I’ll see you in a few hours, kid!”

“Hours?!”

“I told you.  Massive shit.  Remember, if you breathe through your mouth it won’t smell as bad!”  Kuroo pushed the toilet cleaner and the small plastic toothbrush into your hands.  “Gloves are in the cabinet.  Have fun, kid.”  He gives you a firm pat on your back that has your body lurching forward as he walks by you.

“Wait!  Kuroo!”  If he heard you, he sure didn’t act like it, because he didn’t even acknowledge you.  He just kept moving, black boots tapping rhythmically against the tiles as he disappeared back into his own work space.  You stared down at what he had given you, not exactly the materials you were expecting to need for your apprenticeship.  Accept defeat or march in there and tell him no? Accept defeat and you’re left on your hands and knees scrubbing a disgusting toilet bowl, nose deep in a smell you could do without.  But, telling him now, could just result in him telling you to leave again.  He wouldn’t even give you a second chance.  Taking on an apprentice was already out of his comfort zone, surely one fuck up would just have him shooing you away with your tail between your legs.

You pushed your sleeves up, reaching for a pair of gloves in the cabinet and letting them snap down against your wrist with a satisfying noise, holding a tight grip on the handle of the toothbrush. 

Defeat it was.

Hours seemed to pass and each time you heard a set of footsteps, you could only hope that it was Kuroo coming to finally tell you to stop scrubbing.  But he never came.  Those bells above the door just kept chiming as clients arrived and left, satisfied with their K. Ink experience.

“You’ve had them scrubbing that bathroom since 2 p.m., Kuroo.  I’m pretty sure it’s cleaner than it’s ever been,” Akaashi stated, peering up at Kuroo over his glasses.  It was almost 5.  With walk-ins unwelcome and only a handful of piercing appointments scattered over the next few hours, the work day was closing down and the other two staff members of K. Ink had to have a proper introduction with the newest member of the team, who apparently was just doubling as their janitor.  

“They’ll be fine.  It hasn’t been that long.  Besides, you smelled that bathroom!  It needed a good cleaning.”  Kuroo shrugged, leaning against the front counter, typing away the caption to an Instagram post.  

“Kuroo, you’re supposed to be teaching them how to be a tattoo artist, not how to clean toilets.”

“I didn’t teach them how to clean, they figured that out themselves.”

“Kuroo-” Akaashi warned.

“What?”  There was not another word from the desk clerk.  He simply shook his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose, turning his attention back to the computer.  “Akaashi!” Kuroo whined, sinking down against the glass countertop.

“I just cleaned that.  Don’t get your fingerprints all over the glass or else I’ll make you clean it.”

“Then I’ll just make-” he paused.  Akaashi could practically see the gears spinning inside Kuroo’s head.  “Do you remember their name? Kid, apprentice, I don’t know, whatever their name is- they can clean it when they’re done in the bathroom!”

Akaashi rubbed his face over his hands, bringing his coffee mug up to his mouth.  No amount of caffeine was going to get him through this day, hell, through the span of your time at the shop.  “You don’t even remember their name and you have them scrubbing our toilets?  You’re absurd, Kuroo.”

“You’re going to give me hell over this forever, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to give you hell about it until you see that this is ridiculous.”

Kuroo just sighed and rolled his eyes, stepping back from the counter with his hands up in surrender.  “Everyone has to go through some sort of shit when they get an apprenticeship.  It’s just how it is.” 

The smack of his palm against the door made you jump, had you scrambling for the toothbrush that had long been forgotten and had been traded for cycling endlessly through the same three apps for nearly two hours now.  The door teased open just as you had dipped your hand back into that disgusting toilet bowl to at least pretend like you had been scrubbing away this entire time.  

“I’m not going to lie, this is a pretty disgusting thing to watch.”

If you weren’t so determined to keep this damn apprenticeship, you would’ve smacked the absolute shit out of him with that nasty toothbrush.  You could just slump down against the wall and look up at him.  “It’s not exactly the most glamorous thing to do either.”

He leaned against the door frame, arms tucked over his chest.  “Come on, wash up, and let’s go.  I got another job for you.”

“What?  Am I going to be polishing your tiles with your gym socks?”

“You know, that’s really not a bad idea.  Maybe some other day.  Just move your ass and get up.”  He waited in the doorway just long enough for you to scrub your hands under the running water of the sink before stalking off back towards the front of the shop with you having to almost run to catch up with him.

“Kid, this is Akaashi Keiji, he’s the front desk clerk, you know, the one you blatantly ignored this morning.”

“Hi.  Y/N.  It’s nice to meet you, Akaashi,” you state, reaching your hand across the counter for a greeting.

He nods, giving your hand a firm shake.  “It’s a pleasure.”

“Bokuto!” Kuroo shouts as if he wasn’t ten feet away from the piercer’s room.

“He’s with a client right now.  You’ll have to give him a few minutes,” Akaashi says, eyes darting from you to Kuroo and then finally settling on you, studying you like a textbook, steel eyes tracing over every inch of your face before finally nodding in contentment.  

Kuroo hummed as he leaned back against the counter.  “Well, we have some rules to finish up anyway.  Where were we?  Four?”

“Three.”

“Right.  Rule number three.  There’s a shop a few doors down.  You know the owner’s name, you’ve almost said it.  We don’t talk about him here.  You keep that snake-ass bastard’s name out of my shop.”

“Snake ba-? Oh! Do you mean Dai-”

Kuroo raises his index finger up to your lips.  “What did I literally just say?  Rule number four.  Listen.  You have ears.  You better use them.”

“What’s your problem with him?  He’s cool,” you pause, eyeing your new boss up and down, letting a smirk pull at your lips as you watch him start to unravel at the mere discussion of he-who-shall-not-be-named.  “Cooler than you.”

His voice is low, almost a growl as he leans into you, stooping down so he’s right in front of your face.  “Tell me rule number three, pip squeak.”

“‘Keep that snake-ass bastard’s name out of the shop.’  Yeah, got it, boss.  It was just a question, damn.  What?  You two have some secret romance going on?  Are things not good between you two in the bedroom, is that what this is?” You ask, mock sympathy painted over your face.  “You know, it’s actually really common for men your age to have perf-”

Kuroo looks at you completely exasperated and utterly baffled that that’s where your mind instantly went.  “Do not even finish that sentence.”

You turned to Akaashi and gave him a teasing smile.  “That’s a yes.”

“Rule number five.  Do as I say.  If I want you to rewire the electrical, you’re going to rewire the-”

“No, they aren’t.  That’s how you get a fine from the fire department.  You already have a health code violation against you.  Don’t be stupid,” Akaashi warns.

“Fine!  No electrical work! But, rule five still stands.  For these next few years, you better be ready to be at my beck and call whenever I need you during business hours.  Which brings us to our sixth and final rule.  Do not contact me outside of business hours.  We are not friends.  I do not want to be your friend. This is a strictly work relationship and it will remain that way, are we clear?” Kuroo finishes, raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

“Alright, that should get you all finished!  You wanna pay cash or card?  Cash?  Great, then I can go ahead and take that from you.  Remember to just give me a call if you have any questions or concerns.”  The big man who had tried to stop you during your desperate attempt at gaining your apprenticeship emerges from a room, a client sporting a nose ring that was still a little red trailing behind him.  He smiles brightly and waves as the shop door closes behind them.  “Man, you never would’ve believed how much she bled!  I mean, I get it, you just got a needle jammed through your nose, but damn!  I haven’t seen one bleed like that since I did your eyebrow, bro!”  He turned his attention to you.  “Had blood dripping down his face like crazy.  Looked like someone had beat him real good upside the head.  I’d wipe it away and woosh! More blood.”  The man paused, finally getting a good look at you.  He leaned away from you to look you over.  “Do I know you?”

You shake your head, holding your hand out towards him.  “Y/N.  I’m Kuroo’s apprentice.”

“Oh! You were-” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Sorry about the toilet.”

{Taglist: @boosyboo9206 @universal-s1ut @zamorazz // never miss an update! send an ask or dm to be added to the inked taglist!}

[robodove]

SHOW US THE PIRATE STUFF DO THE MERMAID STUFF ALKNASDAS

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE A LITTLE TIME ARRGAGRG I hope this aimless infodump is readable

so! Their designs and junk are a mess rn but I do have some stuff of them!!

Ignore the little dragon in the last I'm still working on Lloyd's whole... business. And! Don't mind the text in the pink one, I was just tryna think up silly nicknames!

Anyways! They aren't really... Traditional pirates? Y'know.. cause their crew size is like 5 + a child and ancient beast.

Under division is a small ramble

Cole's the "captain" and is a selkie (although I know they're usually seals I accidentally chose a sea lion)! He's the sea lion in the pictures and I'm desperately trying to work his skin into the design. I thought it'd be silly since he was raised in dance and entertainment.. and hey! Sea lions are known for that too!

(he wasn't meant to look so forsaken here, sorry Cole)

Jay is a mermaid (thing?) When in the water, he has the lower half reminiscent of an electric eel (I saw reminiscent as there are some major differences)! No one really has powers in this but he can still shock like that,, Ed and Edna are still human in this and I'm trying to remember if they still lived at a scrapyard or a shipyard.

Both Kai and Nya are only half mermaid! Nya ended up inheriting way more mermaid traits than her brother, who doesn't even have a tail in water, but still has a lot of human drawbacks. She can only breathe underwater for so long and ironically Kai can last down there longer. He just chooses not to since I thought it'd be funny to still let him be scared of water in this 😭 sorry Kai. He still has the recognizable sharper teeth and has bits and flashes of shimmery scales but is overall the most human of the bunch once you count out Cole's unskinned form.

I couldn't resist myself on Zane and ended up making him a siren. Mainly because.. bird! And also if he was going to be organic, I wanted to isolate him from the other sea related creatures. He has the wings and feathers of a gyrfalcon and can't swim as well in the ocean! He ends up bonding with Kai over this Kai originally hadn't liked him too much! Reasonably so since.. y'know.. sirens eat people. And mermaids in this.. although Zane eats human things as he was raised on it by a still very human Dr. Julien (who I guess is more of a bird-oriented wildlife scientist in this? ornithologist?). insert joke about him being a hand raised bird.

I don't have my sketchbook with me right now so I'm scrambling for pictures but ! Like all their designs, he's still a work in progress. Will most likely make his legs longer or something but this is just my ideas LOL

And anyways! Onto Lloyd! (And the others?)

I was struggling to decide what Lloyd should be,, like? A dragon could still very much work and his normal version is already so cool?? However, I ended up on leviathan.. a baby one. The serpentine aren't decided but Lloyd's still pretty much not taken seriously by the town. Still winds up being taken in by the "ninja!"

Garmadon is still locked up, although now at the bottom of the ocean! The Skulkin are drowned/dead pirates?

Wu is who I've been struggling to decide on as well! For whatever reason I've been contemplating making him like just some statue in the Destiny's Bounty that speaks to them.

There's plenty of other things going on,, Kai and Nya come to them on accident and Jay is over the moon to see other moons and wants to show them their "ways" despite having never even met others before. Cole is desperately trying to keep everyone in one place as they've accidentally made the perfect collection of the world's most valuable pelts.

Kai still raises Nya at the forge (which in this, is beachside), but years later there's a rise in pricing for the scales of mers and the boy decides that they need to leave in effort to protect her. Nya is devastated because this is their home! Where else would they even go?? They barely have any cash! Kai's decision is further inland AND with the money they get from selling the forge. Yadda, yadda, the buyer turns on them and they wind up in the ocean near their home! Kai's knocked cold, which is for the better as Nya swims them further and further into open ocean.

For the first time, Nya meets another mer as she tries to save her brother, and he helps them aboard a ship! The Destiny's Bounty! (Or perhaps a ship before it? It's all still up in air)

I'd expand more but I'm out of time </3 please give any suggestions if you'd like to! I'd always appreciate criticism

[igot-sarang-ggg]

Meeting Heaven's door (Rohan Kishibe x Reader)

Masterlist

Small Summary: So this was a small idea I came up with a few days ago. What if Rohan used Heaven's door to let you (a non-stand user) be able to see his stand?

Small mentions: gn!reader, there are none

Rohan called me over to model for some posing references for his manga. I knocked gently on the door waiting for a response, "Come in," a faint voice could be heard from somewhere in the house, I slowly opened the door and walked in. "I'm upstairs y/n, just trying to finish some of my work here."

I walked upstairs and into his office, I stood by the doorway so as to not disturb him while he was working. "Rohan sensei you're pretty fast at drawing. I never asked, how are you so fast?" He stopped drawing; standing up, taking the papers in his hand, and putting them away, on a nearby bookshelf. "It's all thanks to my Heaven's door... Oh right, you can't see stands can you?"

"No, I can't. Josuke and the others have tried showing them to me but I can't see them, unfortunately." I'm not a stand user, most of the time I see random items floating sometimes or feel something touching me when I'm with my friends. He looked in my direction, "Why don't you try with my stand?" I walked towards him, "I'm sorry, I don't think I quite understood you, Rohan?"

"I could try with my stand. If you've tried with the others then maybe mine will work." I didn't know what to say, he rolled his eyes at me, "I'll try and show you my stand." He said as took out one of his sketchbooks, and sat back down at his table, "Heaven's Door!" Rohan shouted causing me to jump slightly, "Rohan sensei this isn't going to... work...?"

Before me stood a figure It was wearing a long overcoat, closed to the end of its torso, a bow tie, and a flat-topped hat. It has lines emanating from the bottom and the bottom outsides of its eyes, "Woah this is your stand?" So, this is what it looks like, "What did you do?" I looked at him and then at his stand. I have to admit Koichi was right about some stand users not matching their stands, Heaven's door is adorable.

"I made it so that you can see and interact with my stand Heaven's Door. You can now do the same with everyone's stand as well." I smiled at Rohan, "Thank you, Rohan." I bent down to get a closer look at Heaven's door. "You look adorable." He handed me a paper, I looked at Rohan who was busy sketching something as he watched us both. "Hm? What's this?" I took the paper in my hands smiling to myself. He gave me a drawing of a rose one of my favorite flowers. "Thank you." I hugged him, and Heaven's Door smiled at me.

I stood up looked at Rohan and walked over to him, "So a stand is a manifestation of one's soul, am I correct?"

"Yes, it is. why do you ask?" Rohan stopped sketching and looked at me I showed him the drawing Heaven's Door gave me. He covered his face and looked the other way, I giggled at his action, "That doesn't mean anything y/n. Heaven's door was simply giving you a drawing we've been working on, that's all."

"Sure it doesn't," I rolled my eyes jokingly, "So you called me here to model for reference, are we starting soon?" Rohan showed me the drawings he was working on. "It's already done. While you were having your small interaction with Heaven's Door I took the liberty to draw you. I wanted to get that raw expression from you when you first meet my stand... Seeing that genuine smile of yours is as raw as it gets." He smiled to myself while looking at the drawing and then looked at me our eyes met and a light blush spread across his face.

"A-Anyways thank you for coming today, I'll call you again when I need." He stood up and walked me down the stairs towards the door, "I'll see you around Rohan." I waved him goodbye and made my way home. On my way home I bought a picture frame for the drawing he gave me.

[artzzyb00-27]

{🧡Silence in Darkness🧡}

Trigger Warnings: Attempted assault and rape. I know people who have gone through this and experienced it further sadly. My heart goes out to victims of assault and rape and I hope justice goes in your favor.

After meeting the turtles, reader was wrapped into their world and way of life quickly. A main reason being that talking wasn't easy for her. Their first meeting was after Mikey had fallen off a building and into a dumpster. Reader had been drawing in her sketchbook and heard the noise through her headphones. Sitting on the edge of her fire escape looking out to the city, getting inspiration from the colorful lights.

Taking off her headphones and looking over the fence to see what happened, Mikey was looking up laying on his shell in the dumpster with his legs hanging out. Obviously being too big to fit completely. Reader paused her music and rushed down to check on him. Freaking out over the fact he was a giant mutant turtle quietly in her head. His brothers came down quickly, making sure she wasn't going to take a picture or try to expose them, then realizing she wanted to get close to Mikey.

Donnie had checked his brother and then reader did the same. Pulling out some gum from her pocket, and offering some to the orange-clad turtle. Once doing the same to the three other mutants, they tried to talk her out of telling someone. When she only nodded and didn't respond, Donnie had come to the assumption she was mute.

"We should get going now, have a good night, um-" he paused waiting for her to at least give them some sort of title to her person.

"Reader." the turtles nodded and began to leave. Mikey had stayed behind and asked for her number then put her name as 'Mouse 🐭' on his phone. For shits and giggles, she put him under 'Turtle with Orange zazz'. Since then they've been close, but not enough for her to talk vocally.

She would either respond with head movements, or writing, and sometimes facial expressions. Mikey was the most persistent, why wouldn't he? Outgoing extroverts always love to make shy introverts come out of their comfort zone to make something bright of themselves that shows others they're more than a stereotypical quiet kid.

Music had also become a way of interaction between the quartet and small human. While reader had a variety of preferences, they weren't picky, so they bonded with each of the turtles over their music. Mikey was a hiphop guy, while Leo loved Metal and Raph preferred classic Rock like David Bowie, Queen, Metallica, and Joan Jett. Donnie was more indie than any of them, but occasionally listened to rap while experimenting on side projects.

Reader would sometimes stay the night a couple months after meeting and tonight was one of those nights. Some would say sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable, especially the couch the turtles had. Reader would disagree, it was more comfortable than her bed back home. For what reason? She didn't know, and didn't need to know. However, tonight she felt restless and couldn't go to bed. On impulsive thoughts, she decided to walk near the pier and take a breather. Not knowing Mikey was following from the rooftops.

He had gotten up to go get some water when he saw her walking out of the lair with her red and gray-lined jumper Raph had given her for her birthday. Being the chivalrous turtle that he was, he went to make sure she was safe. So far everything was good, and Mikey was just admiring her from afar. While also being a good friend and ready to step-in if need. She may be shy but that didn't mean she couldn't fight.

Just then a guy wearing a gray hoodie had stopped her to talk. Getting a nervous feeling, Mikey got his weapons ready, even though he most likely wouldn't need them.

"Hey little lady, whatcha' doin' out here?"

"Walking." Vague and simple, almost always gets the guy to lose interest. Sadly this guy wasn't right in the head and pushed her against the railing putting a hand on her neck. She punched him on the sides making him belch in pain. She tried running back to the lair but the guy ended up tripping her and got on top of her. Holding her arms with one hand and the other heading towards her pants.

Suddenly getting kicked into the railing and ended up falling down to the beach below. Reader got up to look over and saw the guy knocked out. Or dead? Who knows, he was off of her and that's what mattered. Finally noticing the giant shadow next to her, she turned and took Mikeys' appearance in. Still a bit shaken from the experience she took some deep breaths making Mikey look at her.

"You okay?" she nodded in response. Mikey didn't expect her to talk, not after that. He put a hand on her back and guided her lightly to the direction back to the lair. While in the alley heading to a sewer grate, she gained some strength in her voice to talk.

"Thanks for that." Mikey paused for a sec then continued while smiling.

"Just doing the right thing. You can always count on me you know?" he asked, though it sounded more of a statement then anything. She nodded and waited for the grate to be opened.

"Really though, I think I might need more training. Wanna help?"

"Sure, anything to spend time with my favorite human. Don't tell April." reader laughed lightly and made her way down the ladder.

"My lips are sealed." The rest of the way they held a conversation. Once arriving they said goodnight and the next morning they were talking to each other first thing. The others confused on what had happened for this to be the result, didn't question it vocally until reader left the lair to get ready for work at the bakery.

Mikey only said they took a walk last night and bonded. Call it what you will, but Mikey was glad she came out her shell in the right way after that experience. He'd hurt or kill anyone who tried that again.

[starlightwayfinder]

Naminé fic snippet!

“This is my favorite one yet.”

Roxas held up the drawing so they could see. The colored pencil marks blended together to depict himself, Xion, and Lea embracing in the Keyblade Graveyard.

Xion nodded. “It really is like a memory on paper.”

Naminé blushed slightly and clutched her sketchbook. As always, Twilight Town was colored in a lovely red sunset. The trio met up in the usual spot every day to sift through memories in hopes of finding clues about Sora.

“How about you, Naminé?” 

Naminé looked at Xion and tilted her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulder.

“Which drawing is your favorite?” Xion clarified.

“I…” don’t have one, she began to say, then hesitated. There was a picture that stood out to her more than any other. She opened her sketchbook and flipped through various drawings of the party on Destiny Islands, ending on a page of Sora and Kairi sitting together on the paopu tree, watching the sun.

“I like this one.”

Xion’s expression softened. “That was such a beautiful day.”

“The three of us finally got to go to the beach together,” added Roxas.

For a moment, Naminé thought he was talking to her.

“We did!” Xion beamed. “Axel kept his promise after all.”

Oh. Of course.

Naminé quietly finished drawing the last memory for the day—Roxas, Xion, Kairi, and  Sora fighting together. When it was done, she gathered up her colored pencils and Xion photographed the new sketchbook entries.

“I’ll send these to everyone in the group chat later. See you tomorrow!” Xion waved, leaving to go back into town. 

“Goodbye.” Naminé waved back with a small smile. 

Roxas checked his Gummiphone, then looked up.

“Hey, it sounds like Hayner, Pence, and Olette are on their way over—”

“Oh, right.” She stood, head lowered. “I’ll go-”

“No, it’s okay. Actually I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out with us?”

Naminé seemed slightly stunned at the invitation, but agreed. 

“I—Yes.”

I must have made him feel guilty.

“Pence said they’ve got summer homework, but if it’s anything like last time we’ll probably just-” he trailed off and gave a small laugh. “Well, odds are we’ll end up going to see a movie or something instead.”

Naminé smiled, but felt a pang of sadness in her chest.

He’s so… 

Normal.

Roxas put his Gummiphone back in his pocket. “It’s nice, huh? Bein’ able to do whatever we want for a change.”

“…It is.”

“So what do you want to do?”

Naminé thought carefully, lacing her fingers together. “I want to keep drawing memories. If I find Sora, I’ll finally feel like my powers can be used for something good.”

Roxas blinked. “That’s… I was thinking more like… ‘go get ice cream’...or something.”

“Oh.”

“Did someone say ice cream?” 

A hand pulled aside the fabric that draped across the entrance to the usual spot, and Roxas looked over as someone suddenly poked their head through. 

“Pence! Geez, thanks for giving me a heart attack.”

Pence walked in and handed a blue ice cream bar to Roxas as Hayner and Olette followed.

“Ooooh Roxas was scared~!” teased Hayner.

Roxas grinned and opened the wrapper. “Who, me? Not a chance.” He pointed to the trophy in the corner of the room. “I’m the ‘toughest guy in Twilight Town’, remember?”

They laughed, and Pence noticed Naminé.

“Oh hey! Who’s your friend?” 

“Naminé.”

“That’s a cool name.”

She smiled in surprise. “Thank you.” 

The tracks above them rumbled loudly as a train passed.

“Hey that reminds me; we picked a topic for our paper,” said Olette.

Roxas shook his head. “Here it comes...”

“The seven tourist attractions of Twilight Town!” interrupted Pence. He gestured dramatically, as if advertising for a commercial. “Popular sightseeing destinations for world travelers passing through the Realm Between!” 

Roxas accusingly pointed his ice cream stick. “The whole ‘other worlds’ thing is still technically a secret, Pence.”

“We know, we know.” Hayner folded his arms. “But we sure do get a lot of visitors nowadays.”

Naminé looked at them curiously. “What are the attractions?” 

Olette waved for everyone to follow. “C’mon, we’ll show you!”

And some bonus moments I thought were worth sharing:

“Hey, the fun’s not over yet!” Pence reassured. “Attractions Three through Five coming up next.”

“Can you really have three at the same place? That feels like cheating…” asked Roxas.

“As long as we can prove we went out and researched we’ll get full points,” said Olette.

They arrived at Station Heights, where the clocktower stretched into the sunset sky above. 

“Three in one!” Pence began narrating theatrically again. “Transportation, sightseeing, and a gift shop!”

“Because who doesn’t want a keychain that says ‘I ‘Struggled’ in Twilight Town’,” said Roxas. 

Hayner folded his arms. “They didn’t think that one through.” 

“Hey, what happens if you put one of those keychains on your Keyblade?” asked Pence. 

Roxas made a face. “I don’t know. It doesn’t work like that—” 

Just then, his Gummiphone rang, and his expression grew serious.

“Hang on, this might be important.”

He tapped the screen.

“Hey, Donald, Goofy. What’s up?”

“We’ve got something real important to share with ya-” started Goofy.

Donald burst into a hurried explanation. “Rikuwenttoanewworld!Andhe’sgonnafindSora-”

“Woah what? Slow down!”

“We’ve got a lot of phone calls to make!” yelped Donald. “Because Riku found out where Sora is!”

Naminé froze.

“He did?! That’s great news!” 

Hayner, Pence, and Olette high-fived. 

“So are we heading out? Where to?”

“No! It’s top secret!” quacked Donald.

“We’re just supposed to tell you to stop what you’ve been doin’,” explained Goofy.

“Gotcha. Well if there are any more top secret updates give me another ring, all right? I want to be the first to know.”

“We will!” said Goofy.

“Now hang up already!” said Donald.

The call ended, and the others laughed.

“Hey, that’s really awesome,” said Hayner, putting a hand on Roxas’ shoulder. 

“So Sora’s going to be okay?” 

“Of course! He’s gonna be hitting the beach with us in no time at all.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

~ And later, after the other three leave…

They ended up in a small park area lined with a wooden fence.

“Oh, I think I’ve been here before.”

“It’s called Sunset Hill,” said Roxas. “The view isn’t quite as good as the one from the clocktower, but it's probably a lot safer.”

She walked to the fence and stared out at the sky.

“So?” he asked. “Is it as good as the one from your favorite drawing?”

“What?”

“The sunset.”

“Oh… yes. It’s beautiful.” Disappointment stained her voice.

“It’s… Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Wait, was it supposed to be pink?”

Naminé felt tears threatening to spill over, and she turned away.

Roxas shifted. 

He’s just trying to be nice. I made him feel bad. He’s cool and normal and I’m—

“Sorry,” he said. “Axel says I always press the wrong buttons.” 

“It’s not anything you did, Roxas. It’s just, that’s not why I picked that drawing.”

“Oh. Why did you, then?”

She took a deep breath.

“Remember when we joined hearts with Sora and Kairi?”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

“We said, we’d be together every day. And-and I was so happy because I’d always been alone, but then—Maybe even if no one wanted to choose me, if I was part of Kairi then… then someone would.”

Part of her was mortified for admitting it, but she continued, tears falling.

“But they weren’t together every day. And now I’m back. I’m back and I don’t know what to do. I can’t even force you to spend time with me anymore. …Because, they found where Sora is.”

To be continued..?

[itzpris15634]

Butterflies (ft. Blythe and Roger)

A bright, sunny afternoon in the Suburbia neighborhood. It was a lovely day to tend to gardens.

As Roger watered the flower bushes, his 7-year-old daughter Blythe sat quietly in the shade, drawing. Roger was so proud that Blythe had found herself a hobby. And she was good at it too, especially for her age.

As he tipped over the watering can to water the next bush, something caught his eye. Something small and light, flapping in the air…

"Blythe, come here!" Roger called his daughter over. "A butterfly!"

"A butterfly?!" Blythe looked up from her sketching in excitement. She left her sketchbook on the table and ran over to her father's side. She jumped in joy when she noticed the little insect.

"A butterfly! Woah, it's so pretty!" Blythe said.

"Absolutely," Roger nodded.

Finally, the butterfly flapped away in another direction, leaving the Baxter's garden.

"Aww, bye bye little butterfly!" Blythe waved the creature goodbye.

"You know Blythe… your mother really liked butterflies. She found them fascinating."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When were in highschool, she'd constantly mention bugs whenever we talked. She even took entomology in college."

"En…toe…wha?"

Roger chuckled, "Entomology. The study of insects. And butterflies are insects."

"Ohhh… Okay, okay! Wow, I wanna draw butterflies now!"

"Well, go right ahead!"

Blythe walked back to the shaded part of the garden, where the table with her sketchbook lay. Once there, she got back to drawing.

Roger smiled. He was so, so lucky to have this little girl.

---

15-year-old Blythe was seated on the couch, sketching. She had her music playing through her headphones.

"Hey, Blythe?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"Can I see your sketchbook?"

The question made Blythe shiver.

"Uh… why? You don't think I'm up to anything, do you…?"

"No! No. I trust you, Blythe. I know you wouldn't. I just wanna see your pages about butterflies again."

"Oh. Sure thing, Dad!" Blythe flipped the sketchbook over to the right page, then handed it to her father.

"Ah, I see…" Roger hummed as he examined every little sketch, "Wow. Wow! You're doing butterfly-inspired jewelry?"

"Yeah!"

"That's great! Totally great. Super great. Lovely."

"…Is there any particular reason you wanted to look into my sketchbook?"

"Uhm…" Roger hummed as he sneakily took out his phone and took a picture of the page, "No reason at all."

"You just took a picture of it."

"No I didn't," Roger immediately shoved the phone back into his pocket, and the sketchbook back into Blythe's hands.

"Lovely sketches, Blythe! You're really good at this."

He was clearly dodging her questions, but today she was going to not mind it. So instead, she said;

"Thanks, Dad!"

"You know, if you're up for it, would you like to go to art school? I think you'd be fit for that."

"Oh, I was actually thinking of something more like… fashion design. Like, fashion university."

"Ooh, fashion! Very ambitious. What are your goals for that one?"

"I'm… not really sure yet! Work at a fashion magazine? Start my own fashion business? I dunno."

"I see. Well, who knows? You've got plenty of time to think about that! What are you in again? 7th grade?"

"Mhm."

"Yep. Plenty of time!"

---

A few weeks later, Roger was on some sort of overnight trip. He was heading to Britain this time? Yeah…

So when Blythe heard the doorbell ring, she bolted over to the door to check who it was.

"Who is it?"

"Blythe, it's me! I'm home!"

When Blythe opened the door, she found her father standing there, dressed in his pilot's uniform.

"Dad! Welcome home!" She didn't hesitate to give him a big hug, which Roger gladly returned. "How was the trip?"

"Lovely! In fact, I've even got a few things for you!"

"F-for me? Really?"

"Hmmm… I'll show you after dinner! Come on. I got some food on the way back here." Roger said in a sing-songy voice, whistling on his way to the kitchen to prepare the food.

"Bah, cliffhanger…"

-

"Mmm, that was some really good food!" Blythe sighed, satisfied and happy with the night's meal, "Which restaurant did you get this from?"

"Oh, not exactly a restaurant. You know Ms. Lora's place?"

"Lora Hall? The lady who lives… 7 houses down from here?"

"Yeah, her. Her daughter recently started up a cooking business, so I checked it out."

"That's amazing! Do they have anywhere I can leave a 5 star review?"

Roger chuckled, "No, I don't think so. It's just a neighborhood thing, y'know? But I'll be sure to tell them that the next time I pass by their place!"

Father and daughter laughed together, enjoying each other's company.

But then, Blythe remembered.

"Hey, Dad. I remember you mentioning you had something… for me?"

"Oh! I do, yes I do! Here, let me just…" Roger reached into his bag, digging around in it, looking for something. Finally, he brought out a tiny little box.

"Wait… jewelry?" Blythe asked in disbelief.

"Yes! Or no. Maybe. Open it and find out."

Blythe followed the instructions. Her fingers took careful hold of the lid of the box, gently lifting up to reveal…

"A… candy necklace." Blythe held up the confection jewelry, looking at it with a raised brow and a look of confusion.

"Yes! A great addition to your closet, right? At least until you eat it. Or the ants do…"

Blythe simply rolled her eyes, chuckling, "Dad…"

Roger couldn't help but chuckle as well, "Okay, no, but seriously. Here's your actual gift." He presented another little box to Blythe, taking back the candy necklace (which he promptly ate).

When Blythe opened the new box, she was surprised to find…

"Oh. Em. GEE!" She gasped, "Is this one of my designs?"

"Ding ding ding! You got that right." Roger nodded. "I took it to a jeweler, and now I got you this!"

Blythe held up the necklace, watching its gold shimmer in the light. She recognized the design on the charm as one of her own- an outline of a butterfly's wings, with several bright, shining, magenta gems sealed in.

"Dad, it's beautiful! Thank you so much… would mind helping me put it on?"

"Of course, anything for you, Blythie."

---

25-year-old Blythe Baxter groaned, repeatedly banging her head against the desk, not caring that she could crack her glasses. Said desk was a mess, covered by a thick layer of documents, designs, notes and writing…

This stupid job. Her stupid co-workers, Brittany and Whittany. And their stupid, nepotistic mother for allowing them to work in the place-

Okay, no. Not these thoughts again. She's getting all worked up…

Sighing, Blythe took off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose.

As she went to hang her glasses by her shirt, she heard the familiar dangling of a chain on her chest.

Oh. Right. The butterfly necklace.

Butterflies. Insects. Mom. Dad…

How long has it been?

While Blythe loved Downtown and met all these amazing people there (everyone down at the pet shop, plus her friends at work that made her days there just a bit more bearable), she also missed Suburbia. She hasn't been there since she left. More importantly, she missed her Dad…

She'll have to go back and visit him sometime.

===

Day 7: Nostalgia

Planning to continue this with tomorrow's prompt, Homecoming, but idk man. Got real life stuff going on, but we'll see.

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 2: Welcome Back

Ok, fine. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want to go to the Cotillion. I mean, even antisocial outcast witches need to party once in a while, right?

So I’ve made my decision. I’m surprising them by heading over today!

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, just keep the mice out.” I say my last goodbyes to Binx as I finish packing a small bag. I’d use a transportation spell or my broom, but that’d be too eye-catching.

“Don’t worry, this place will be safe with me. After watching over your mother’s house for 300 years I’ve definitely had practice of guarding. Go have fun and be a normal girl for once!”

“Bye bye!” I wave and start making my way through the thick, dark woods…

The school looks almost the exact same, with the exception of a few new banners announcing the upcoming cotillion. If it weren’t for a nearby poster I wouldn’t remember that I’m a convict. It shows my face sneering an evil smile and says: Beware! Wanted: Magica Sanderson, evil witch. If sighted please report to Headmistress Fairy Godmother immediately! Huh. On the bright side, my picture doesn’t look half-bad. Students are buzzing around everywhere, so to avoid getting caught I slip on my invisibility cloak and creep through the gardens. 

Once I’ve slipped through the front door to the dorm housing then it’s all smooth sailing straight to Evie and Mal’s room. And just in time: Chad just left and in doing so left the door open! I don’t miss a beat and quickly slide in to find Evie and Doug holding hands. Aw, they finally got together!

“So do you think this dress seems a bit bland, or maybe I should touch it up a little?” I look over Evie's shoulder at the purple dress she’s referencing. It’s a gorgeous Victorian one with a purple and black pattern, long sleeves, and a hood attached to the back.

Grinning underneath my cloak, I turn and say: “It gets my approval!”

“Oh!” Evie jumps in surprise and turns around with wide eyes. “Magica? You came!” She tugs me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Does this mean you’re going to cotillion?”

“Yes,” I wheeze out, almost unable to breathe. I give Doug a wave. “Hey.”

He waves back and smiles. “Hey, lab partner! I’ve missed you!”

“So you won’t tell anyone I’m here? You don’t think I’m a wicked witch?” I’m only half-joking.

Doug chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, you’re not wicked. Maybe a bit over-dramatic when it comes to studying but nobody’s perfect.”

“How’s chemistry been going? From the looks of things I’d say you and Evie’s chemistry looks vibrant as ever!”

Evie seems to ignore my comment and starts showing me her sketchbook, which is full of more designs and patterns than I could ever imagine!

“So for you I’m thinking purple and black, like the one you approved earlier. Something sleek but elegant. You’re going to be a cakewalk compared to Chad. We just got done with his cotillion fitting.” Evie rolls her eyes. “I swear his head can not get any bigger!”

I nod. “On a different note, you got your own room?” I take a better look at the racks of fabric and giant sewing machine.

“Yes! FG approved that I get a private room so I can run my business! But enough of that. Everyone’s going to be so surprised when they see you! Especially Carlos, he really misses you.”

I hang my head in shame. “I really miss him too. But I’ve gotta figure out my own problems before I let him get dragged into them too.”

Evie and Doug look at each other, and I’m unsure what they’re thinking.

“Magica, Carlos doesn’t think you’re a burden,” Evie says softly. “He wants to help, and spend time with you. And you better tell him how you feel soon, because-”

There’s a knock on the door and we all freeze. Instinctively I grab my invisible cloak and throw it on, dashing off to hide in the corner. In mere seconds the door opens, revealing Jay and Mal- with blonde hair?

“Hello, everyone,” Jay gives a dramatic bow. “Just wanted to check in to see how things are going, plus Mal needs some encouragement for her date with Ben later.”

Mal twirls a piece of blonde locks in her fingers. “I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but trying to stay the ‘perfect Auradon girl’ is really getting to me.”

Wait, what? Why is she doing that?

Evie and Doug exchange playful smiles.

“Well, if it’s encouragement you’re looking for, how about a positivity spell?” Evie asks.

Mal rolls her eyes. “Evie, you know I don't do so well with positive magic. And Magica’s at least an hour away-”

“Or mere seconds!” I jump out and touch Mal and Jay’s backs, causing them to scream.

“Trixie?” Jay starts laughing his head off and pats my shoulder. “Jeez, you still got it! It’s nice to see ya!”

I cackle wickedly and “I see you guys all got new looks! But Mal, why blonde? I thought I was the one who’s supposed to try to look normal!”

“Uh, I'm trying to look a bit more normal to fit in and impress Ben. But between trying to go non-magic and being bombarded by reporters, I’m so close to bursting! I mean, ‘do you like being blonde?’ ‘is your mother still a lizard?’ What kind of questions are those?! ”

“Really? Just how much TV have you gotten yourself into?”

Mal cringes and goes to snack on a bowl of strawberries on Evie’s desk. “I can’t go a single moment without getting my picture taken.”

“Ooh, yikes! So glad I’m not caught up in that mess! But it is good to catch up with you guys- I’ve missed you. Also if I had known you’re still obsessed with strawberries then I would have brought some as a cotillion gift.”

Jay checks his watch and sighs. “Sorry trixie, but I’ve gotta go meet up with Carlos for fencing practice.” 

My face freezes and I start following Jay out the door. “Oh! Right. Please tell him to meet up with me when-”

“Magica?” Carlos asks from down the hall in a stunned tone.

“Carlos!” A smile spreads over my face as I rush up to the freckled VK. “Surprised?”

“I- I’m surprised! What- what are you doing here?”

Huh? He’s one of the people who invited me here.

My smile falters. “For… cotillion?”

Carlos frowns. “Really? I didn’t think you’d really come. B- But it’s really good to see you!”

He gets new-found energy and gives me a soft hug. Then, Dude rushes out of Carlos’ room at the sound of all the commotion, licking and pawing at my skirt.

“Hello to you too, handsome! Yes, yes, I missed you too!” I laugh and kneel down to pet my furry friend. “Hey Carlos, has Evie interrogated you about cotillion yet? She’s already planning my dress!”

Carlos suddenly gets an anxious look and starts acting… skittery? “Actually, um, about that… I’ve been thinking about asking Jane to the cotillion.”

Snap! Something inside me breaks and sends my head spinning, and I have to lean against the hallway wall. I close my eyes, and I’m spiraling. Just like predicting the future. My purple flames spreading everywhere, people pushing me away, being alone… No one could ever love a Sanderson witch.

“Oh! Oh… right.” I plaster on a smile and laugh nervously. “Um, wow! Congratulations, Carlos! Really, I- I’m so proud! Um, excuse me I need to go find Evie!”

Carlos tries to say something else but I rush past back down the hall. “Um, ok- I’ve gotta get to fencing practice. See you later!”

Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling…

I burst into Evie’s room and am thankful to find it’s only her and no one else. She sees my distraught face and immediately gets up from her desk.

“That’s why you warned me. That’s why you meant when you said I should tell him how I feel… Because now he’s moved on to someone else!” I let out a loud roar and kick a chair, flames already starting to crawl up my arms.

“Ok calm down, calm down-” Evie holds her hands up trying to get me to settle down.

“No! How can you expect me to calm down when my true love is- is- forgetting me? Abandoning me? Just- letting me go?”

“No, no,” Evie keeps a steady tone and takes my hand.

I stiffen. “Better let go, or else I might singe your hand into a pile of ash.”

“I’m not afraid, unlike most people here. I want you to know that Carlos does love you, he really does. At least, I think so-”

“You think so?” I rip my hand away and start pacing back and forth, counting in my head. “One two three, one two three…”

Evie, having learned to stay out of my way, goes to sit at her desk. “Is counting your coping skill?”

In my rage I allow a smirk. “In a way. Only instead of counting numbers, I’m counting how many times people have betrayed me, let me down.” Willow, Audrey, Chad, Ben… Now Carlos. I’ll go easy on him, because I still love him. And I’ve forgiven Ben too, but I’ll never forget what people have done to me. I thought I’d come back to attend a party to congratulate my friends and see my true love, only to discover I’m being tossed aside again.

“You two should talk.”

I nod, still staring coldly at the wall and tears starting to drizzle down my face. “Yes. We definitely need to.”