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bratzforchris · 4 months

Note

the piercer!johnnie fic made me think about a tattoo artist!reader x johnnie

Hello Kitty Tattoo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: In which you give Johnnie a surprise tattoo for a video<3

Pairing: Johnnie x tattoo artist!feminine reader

Warnings: Tattooing (?is that a warning?)

Word Count: 776

A/N: Thank you for the request!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“Hey guys!” Johnnie smiled, waving to the camera. “So, today I’m gonna get a new tattoo. Shocker,” he fake gasped. “Only this one is going to come from my lovely girlfriend.”

You smiled and waved to the camera as Johnnie kissed your cheek. You were rather shy, seeing as how this was the first ever video you were filming with Johnnie. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Johnnie’s girlfriend…and I’m also a tattoo artist.” You whispered quietly, but with a smile.

You weren’t used to talking to a camera, which made your voice shake a bit and your cheeks flush. Johnnie kissed your cheek again, whispering words of encouragement. He knew whatever he didn’t want in the video, he could edit out. All that mattered to him right now was that you were comfortable. After all, this was his video and his career, despite your protests that you were okay with everything.

“So before I get my tattoo, you guys are probably wondering how Y/N and I met since it’s her big reveal!” Johnnie became more animated as he talked about you. “Jake dared me to try a new tattoo shop while we were in Santa Monica and Y/N was the best in the area.”

You blushed over his words, but made finger guns back at your boyfriend. “You know it.”

“The rest is history,” he chuckled, doing jazz hands. “But now, let’s get into the actual point of today’s video. Y/N is going to give me a tattoo of her choice. I don’t know if I should be excited or afraid.” Johnnie laughed.

He panned his vlogging camera around your private room in the tattoo studio you owned with your best friend. It was the complete opposite of a typical tattoo parlor’s aesthetic, decorated with pink, Hello Kitty, and Marie from the Aristocats.

“Johnnie,” You smiled, a devious look on your face as you waved to the camera. “I think you need a Hello Kitty tattoo.”

Your boyfriend panned the camera back to his face, making a loud squeal. “I’m being tortured by the Hello Kitty girl.” he said in one of his silly voices.

“Sit down.” You playfully groaned, rolling your eyes.

Johnnie sat on the tattoo bench, patiently waiting for you to design and decide where his tattoo should go. It didn’t take you long to write up a beautiful sketch; you’d been thinking about this tattoo idea for Johnnie for weeks, simply because it was a perfect combination of you both. You hadn’t known how to bring it up, though, until Johnnie proposed you tattooing him for a video.

“Done!” You cheered. “Lift your shirt.” You instructed, smirking at the camera.

“I’m scared, guys.” Johnnie told his vlog.

You expertly placed the stencil on Johnnie’s hip, instructing him to close his eyes so he couldn’t peek. You prepared all the supplies you would need, planning on giving your boyfriend a fine line tattoo, which was much different than his usual style.

“Alright, I’m putting the camera on the tripod now so Johnnie can’t peek and I’m going to blindfold him.” You were slowly getting more comfortable talking to the camera, which Johnnie would make for a chaotic video now and even more in the future.

You set everything up, blindfolding Johnnie and making sure to clean the space and put on fresh latex gloves before speaking. “Are you ready?” You asked your boyfriend, firing up your machine.

He nodded quietly and giggled, mentioning something about ‘don’t draw a Barbie on me’. You began to work on the tattoo, speaking every now and then between you two, but mostly staying quiet so you could concentrate. It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would; only about two and a half hours in total with water and bathroom breaks.

“Alright guys,” You panned the camera to the tattoo bed where Johnnie was still blindfolded and giggling. “Are you guys ready to see Johnnie’s new tattoo?”

“Yes!” Johnnie groaned. “Show me!”

You quickly wiped the new ink off, before removing Johnnie’s blindfold and smiling proudly as he glanced at your work. It was a Hello Kitty tattoo, but she was holding an electric guitar, mid head bang with dark eyeliner rimming her eyes and a skull bow.

“I love it,” Johnnie laughed, kissing you deeply. “It’s perfect. The perfect combination of us.”

“I’ve wanted you to get that tattoo for weeks. I was just waiting for the right time.” You smirked.

And as you and Johnnie said goodbye to the video, you couldn’t help but to ask one of your artist friends to do the same design on your own hip.

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ryuichirou · 6 months

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I love how you draw the tweels and Azul. They look so imposing in your art style! I know you love drawing Ignihyde, Octavinelle and Scarabia boys a lot, but I'm curious if you have drawings of the rest of the twst cast as well. I'd love to see everyone in your art style!

Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m glad you like how I draw the Octa-boys. I’m not even sure which dorm I draw most often, but it has to be either them or Ignihyde haha. But in all honesty, I really love drawing all the characters; even if we don’t care much about them, they are usually still quite pleasant to draw at least once.

Which is why I can actually compile my drawings of pretty much every character in this reply! It’s honestly surprising lol but also not really. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we started drawing and posting twst…

Alright, here we go!

Heartslabyul – wow, I can’t believe I don’t have any coloured Aces that are relatively new… We like Ace a lot, I should probably draw him. And Cater too, to be honest, this is my only coloured sketch with him. I never expected to enjoy drawing these boys as much as I do, to be honest.

Savanaclaw – Leona is the only character I don’t have a proper sketch that is not a commission with lol I’m sorry. But I actually quite like the comms of Leona that I got to draw, so here is one of them! I also really enjoyed drawing Ruggie, I should do it again… And Jack too…

Octavinelle – aw yis yakuza fishies babyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Come on, you know I love these guys lol Whenever I look at them I feel at home. It’s a shame I don’t draw them wearing fedoras (for some reason I’m still intimidated by fedoras), because I love everything about their dorm uniforms.

Scarabia – I also don’t feel like I draw these two often enough, but their uniform is probably the most difficult one to draw, simply because of all the details and prints and gold and accessories. But it’s so worth it!... I also think that Jamil is the prettiest snake in the world.

Pomefiore – it’s stupid how long it took me to find a Rook that doesn’t look creepy in my drawings lol I really love this side of him. I also really enjoy drawing Vil, but whenever I do, I feel intimidated. I just can’t mess him up..! But if the Vil that I drew ends up looking good, I get so emotional that I cry (not a 100% lie)

Ignihyde – picking an Idia and an Ortho out of hundreds of sketches of Idia and Ortho was more challenging that I thought it would be, so I picked these because I still really like their faces and think they’re cute! I also can’t get enough of them… to this day… Their hair, their teeth, everything.

Diasomnia – I feel like whenever I draw these guys we have an urge to make it into an art, this is why we have a lot of finished rendered artworks with them. Their aesthetic is just… super fitting for all kinds of dark and gothic stuff. I also adore drawing their eyes!!! All of them have such pretty eyes.

The teachers – if you feel the urge to laugh at Crowley for only getting a black and white sketch, I encourage you to also laugh at Vargas for not being here at all… I think he is the only character that I’m missing, huh.

Others – bonus round! I actually also have a sketch of Fellow Honest and Gidel but by the time I remembered them I got tired of making this thing lol, and we haven’t watched the event yet anyway, so they’ll get their chance to shine some other time (you can find it on my ko-fi though). Meleanor is also here, and I honestly I would be happy to draw every twst mom at some point… And other minor characters too…

But not the dwarves; screw them (just kidding I might draw them too at some point).

#replies #about drawing #ryuichirouart #twisted wonderland

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sanjisprincesswifey · 6 months

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I’m so excited for this event I love Christmas! ❤️ Can I request Sanji, Ace or Zoro with an afab!reader? Thank you! 🎁

i love christmas too, thank you for participating! :)

you’ve received zoro + getting each other for secret santa

❆ : dorky, clueless, and in love zoro, no gender implied but reader is staying in the same room as nami and robin, 600+ words!

shit, shit, shit.

zoro knew he’d get in huge trouble if anyone caught him in here. sure,

if it was you or robin all you’d get was a stern talking to and had it been nami, a pretty good beating and a fine, that was doable. but if any of the guys caught him he’d be labeled pervert till the end of time and he could not live with being teased by sanji for that long.

right now he’s dug deep into your closet, riffling through scattered clothing items and old shoe boxes, nothing helpful.

when he hesitantly agreed to participate in the crew’s secret santa, he didn’t think it would cause him so much stress.

there was eight other names he could’ve drawn, but luck was not in zoro’s favor today when he chose yours.

he didn’t really know you, if he was being honest. he didn’t want to; well…it’s more like he was afraid to.

getting to know you, close to you, meant that he would have to admit how he felt.

admit that the sliver of personality he found himself seeking was enough to drive him insane. how knowing you for the few months you had been aboard the sunny you had unearthed a new feeling, a strange, complicated, fuzzy feeling that he strangely enjoyed.

he rifles through boxes of old photos, childhood items you brought with you, nothing really clueing him in about your interests.

as he hunches over your desk drawers, he notices a familiar piece of paper. he recognized the material from usopp’s sketch book, it was unmistakable. unfolding the page, he scans over the drawing with wide eyes.

both his and your image is illustrated on the page, an unmistakable blush colored your cheeks as doodle him smiled so brightly at you. it was strange to see his features detailed this way, he doesn't even remember being so happy.

unless...

the day flashes back through his mind; it was one of the first times he realized how severe his feelings had grown to be.

you two were resting on the mast of the sunny together, zoro was teasing sanji per usual and you just happened to join in. when he listened to your soft giggles escape your lips, attempting to hold yourself back as sanji’s rage increased, zoro found a new, more enticing reason to tease the cook.

usopp must’ve happened to witness the whole event, enough to capture the image in his sketch book, at least.

“nami?”

your voice breaks the silence in the room, immediately jolting zoro’s body as he attempts to put the drawing back exactly where it had been.

as your footsteps ascend from down the hall, he begins to panic, searching for any place to hide in the room.

“zoro? what’re you doing in here?” you question, glancing around the room noticing your side had become noticeably disheveled from when you left it this morning.

his mouth runs dry as he tries to think of any excuse that could save him right now. “you see, luffy, he, uh—“

“were you searching through my stuff?”

you step towards him, causing him to back up until he reaches the desk he was once inspecting. the items on top rattle as his large body collides with them as you stand merely inches away from him.

“and why do you seem so nervous?” you smirk, dragging a finger up his stiffened arm until you reach underneath his chin.

he can’t seem to look away from you as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“i, uh—i got to go, sorry,” he screeches, somehow slipping out from your body and darting for the door.

you giggle to yourself, noticing the ajar drawer in your desk. you collect the piece of paper he was mesmerized by before, smiling back towards his exit.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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sunboki · 8 months

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004. SUNDAY’S PARADIGM — ANTHOLOGY

PAIRING. Hwang Hyunjin x gn. reader | WORD COUNT. 2.6k & 15 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing | TROPE. college au, friends to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder (lmao), fluff

( ✉️ ) — hi everybody! i’m very happy to announce that this is the last addition to my mini-anthology “METANOIA”, thank you so much for the support this far and for so much anticipation and patience along the way— have a wonderful day!!

He was a cold person. Spiteful and brash to all people too close, scared to let his walls down. Except, to him, you’re a spectacle. A classmate he realizes he can’t exactly find reason to dislike while he sketched you from his stool in the art room.

Hyunjin knows your habits.

He knows when you’re talking to someone you like your voice becomes higher, knows you prefer to work alone on certain projects, and that you have a low social battery in public spaces. He knows when you're talking to the professor, when you’re anxious, you hold your arms close to your body.

In fact, Hyunjin may know more about you than your friends do. Except, Hyunjin isn’t your friend, nor a stalker or admirer. He’s just Hyunjin and you’re just Y/n, someone he never gets bored of watching from afar without knowing why.

Perhaps it’s the careful sculpting of your nose, the way your eyes perfectly fit with the rest of your face, rose hued lips curling when you smile. Oftentimes he wonders what shade your lips would be if he watercolor painted them. Dusty or dark, pink, or maybe red. He wonders.

And on occasions, he wonders why you aren’t the model for their class while one hand absentmindedly traces you, seated a few stools ahead of him while his canvas successfully blocks the repeated glances in your direction.

Maybe the endless sketches of you in his notebook are the reason he treats that thing like a porcelain vase, held dearly close to his chest as if a mere drop of water would rot the binding.

Hyunjin doesn’t like his sudden interest in you—doesn’t like how he can’t dislike you compared to his usual stark coldness for everyone and anyone, but he can’t help it.

There’s just something peculiar about you that he can’t put his finger on. He doesn’t like that either. But somehow, he can’t seem to get enough.

His lips pull into a frown, the usual one that unconsciously causes the rest of his face to turn grumpy. Oftentimes, Seungmin (the boy occupying the stool to his left) would snap his fingers just to watch surprise cross Hyunjin’s face for a change. He’s a strange kid.

Noticing a friend of yours stumble into the classroom, he can’t help but repeatedly peer from his work, memorizing the small creases of your clothings fabric onto the canvas.

For a moment, Sana (the girl whose name he finally remembered) pulled a small candy from her pocket and popped it in her mouth, urging you to take one as well.

She doesn’t like that flavor, she likes the strawberry flavor better. He thinks to himself.

And sure enough, after delivering a kind smile, you sneakily shoving the treat into your bag when she turns around. Hyunjin bites back the ghost of a smile creeping onto his lips.

Stupid. This is stupid. He tells himself constantly, but still finds his heart beating faster upon seeing you each day.

Really, really stupid, Hwang Hyunjin.

.. .

“I got it!” Sana shrieks, and you attempt to even your sudden panic as the girl begins gesturing wildly. Perhaps Hyunjin isn’t the only one getting surprised on a daily basis.

Frantically piecing together the thoughts circulating around her caffeine dispenser of a brain, she slams her hands down in front of you, another jump scare.

“He’s a ‘look don’t touch kind of guy’, that’s why every girl wants to be in our department!”

Crickets could’ve chirped in the amount of time you blankly stared at her.

She’s fervently nodding, seeming to have discovered an entirely new world in the process of describing your class spectacle as a ‘look don’t touch’.

“..Einstein would’ve stayed in his grave.”

“Would not,” She retorts, pushing her inky black tresses behind her ear and clasping her hands together. “In fact, he would’ve used all of his stone-dead energy to climb out of his grave just to tell me how smart I am!”

“Now that’s just wrong.”

So after more pouting, more glaring, and more unconvinced stares, you finally rise off the bench, shaking the iced coffee in hand.

It’s your lunch, and you would rather not talk about Hwang Hyunjin, but you might just have to give up even trying to avoid the topic at this point.

You don’t dislike him or anything, it just becomes a tad bit irritating once his name has been brought up forty five times in the last two hours, y’know? Because if there’s one thing Sana was right about, it’s that every girl is obsessed with him. Borderline. Obsessed.

Meanwhile, Hwang Hyunjin has no interest. In fact, Hwang Hyunjin doesn’t seem interested in anyone, nor much of anything. That is, unless it’s art.

Back when you had first taken the class the two of you debated on if he was gay, trying to find something that explained it. Although, by the third week you both concluded he acted like that towards everything.

Well, at least he looked bored.

Hwang Hyunjin was hard to read.

Setting your materials in their coordinating places, you steady the easel in front of you, prepared for Ms. Hoon to burst through the door and demand a new mock-up in five minutes or less. She’s known for being spontaneous in all of the wrong ways.

Except, today, Ms. Hoon saunters in, fingers nimbly adjusting her skirt that hangs close to her ankles—close to her tawny leather boots clicking when she walks. She’s pleased, too pleased.

Sana sends you a look saying the same thing you’re thinking:

We’re fucked.

Whipping a random roster from nowhere, her pointed index slides down names before looking up. Right at you.

“For our end of semester project, I want us to explore new options. I’m assigning all of you in pairs to visit different exhibitions around Seoul. Y/n L/n?”

You raise your hand.

“Your partner is Hwang Hyunjin, you’ll be visiting the National Museum of Korea’s Greece exhibition this Sunday,” She smiles, scarily resembling a Cheshire cat. “Infographics are here.” Ms. Hoon finishes, patting the stack atop the podium.

Never has there been so many eyes boring into your back.

And with that, the students either drag their feet or plow through to grab the papers.

Meanwhile, you’re feeling something only recognizable as impending doom.

You’re fucked.

.. .

Hysterically staring ahead, you flinch when a piece of paper is slipped beside you, forcing your eyes off the board.

Can I get your number? It reads, so when you notice Hyunjin’s name is addressed below, you’re convinced you’ve been trapped in some alternate universe. Mere seconds ago Ms. Hoon assigned partners, or did you miss something inbetween the lines?

Your number? Hwang Hyunjin, asking for your number?

Unbelievable.

Instead of darting for the door like you’d planned earlier though, you wait until the classroom is empty to approach him, looking unfairly handsome as always. But before he can say a word, you form a jumbled sentence through fast-blinking eyelids and manically expressive nods of your head.

“Hyunjin I— I’m sorry I’m flattered but I don’t think of you like tha—“

“Huh? For the project?” He replies, and a hundred tons of steel might as well drop on your head at this rate.

Not only are you fucked, but now you’re fucking yourself. And not on good terms.

Talk about a bad first impression.

Opening your mouth, closing it, and opening it again, you chameleon redder and redder the longer he looks at you, shakily typing your digits into his phone to spin on your heel and march out at an alarming pace.

Although, you don’t see the small quirk of his lips, nor how he named “Pretty Project Partner Y/N” as your contact.

“God I’m such an idiot!” Clutching your head, you prop your elbows on the kitchen island while Sana sifts through Netflix on the sofa. She chortles, but lets you wallow in your misery no less.

It’s your secret language, a coping mechanism in its own, sweetly bitter truth.

The day of and you’re still hung up about Hyunjin. Well, your overwhelming embarrassment about Hyunjin—something that kept you up well throughout the night.

Weird. Since when did you care so much about your impression on him anyway? He’s never been a particular stake in your road, but now he’s the sudden speed bump in every once-peaceful moment.

Your pocket vibrates with a notification.

Funny enough, he seemed to live up to that speed bump role.

Hyunjin : Can I come over? Chan’s a bit.. busy

You : Busy?

Hyunjin : Busy

You : Yikes, come over

Hyunjin : Thanks

Sprinting into the living room, you have to stop yourself, hoping to appear composed to the all-knowing best friend of yours.

“Hey, um, could you run to the convenience store for me?”

What a side-eye. She could slice cheese with that glare.

Number one rule? By no circumstances can you have Sana plotting something. Especially not with Hyunjin involved.

“Are you constipated?”

Here goes your ego.

“I’m in denial.”

She taunts. “You poor thing.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Fine, send me what you want and pay me back.” Waving her off, you take the opportunity to attempt at rationalizing what exactly you’ll do, say, look like, act like, and the other billions and trillions of possibilities you only have a few minutes to think about before he arrives.

Real reassuring.

Hyunjin : I’m here

He sends five minutes later, sequentially leading to your phone dropping on your face, slipping on the rug, and giving yourself a once-over (more like a thrice-over) in the mirror, where you greet him at the door.

First thing your eyes are drawn to are the bouquet of flowers held in hand.

Flowers.

Flowers?!?

“Look, they were on sale and it adds to the atmosphere.” He deliberately avoids your gaze. You don’t mention it.

You never took Hyunjin as the guy bringing you flowers. Come to think of it, you never took Hyunjin as a romantic either. Guess this project is teaching more things than just the philosophy of Michelangelo’s sculptures.

Placing said flowers into a vase you miraculously found in the cabinet above the microwave, you anxiously tap your finger atop your thigh.

It’s awkward, until it isn’t. Because Hyunjin is surprisingly good at small talk.

“Why are you like this to me?” Blurting, you wish you would’ve bitten your tongue. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind too much.

Instead, he fixates on your face, noting your details as you speak. Dusty red is their color he decides, the watercolor shade matching your lips best.

“Like what?”

“Well,” You meet his eyes. He memorizes that color as well. “You’re just different in class.”

Leaning further into the opposing loveseat, he shrugs.

“For the record, Ms. Hoon wears that awful perfume every day. Not to mention everyone falls asleep anyway.”

He’s not half wrong.

“Aren’t you observant,” You muse, cheekily giggling to yourself.

He rolls his eyes, ears pink nonetheless.

Abruptly interrupting your teasing, there’s a knock, and you haphazardly edge to peer through the peephole, Hyunjin simultaneously tailing behind you.

“Who is it?” He whispers, uncharacteristic to his usual unbothered demeanor.

Shit, it’s Sana!

Already aware she’d find out something was up one way or another, you find yourself with no choice but to slowly open the door, a hand leant against the doorframe, another covering Hyunjin’s mouth where he hides on the wall to your left.

“Hey you better pay me ba- are you okay?” She hesitates, surveying the sweat on your brow and how off-balance you’re standing, plastic bag in clutch.

“Oh yeah, I just remembered! Did you buy the extra bag of potato chips?” Diverting the conversation, you nervously grin, feeling Hyunjin’s hot breath against your palm when he stifled a giggle.

Squinting incredulously, she scrolls through her messages without answering. Shaking the list you sent right in your face, you wrinkle your nose, putting on the best “please? I promise I’ll buy you lunch for a week” face you can muster.

Like you said. Secret language.

Sighing heavily, you thank whomever above when she slumps away and you excitedly slam the door shut, both releasing exhales of relief.

Checking the time, you glimpse outside, making sure the perimeter is Sana-free. You need absolutely no traces.

Great. Coast clear.

“Shhhh!” Shushing him, you carefully lock the door before running out of sight down the hallway at full speed. Bewildered, he chases along, mini ponytail swaying with each stride.

You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing. Unusually, he’s doing the same.

Your unwavering, certainly monotonous class spectacle is laughing.

He’s pretty.

Wait. Duh.

He’s gorgeous.

Yeah. That fits better.

A soft hue decorates his cheeks, and he stumbles down the stairs like a drunkard. Yet, in the midst of your admiration, your foot slips—more drunkard-esque than him—from beneath you. Before your forehead makes contact with the marble floor though, a hand fastens onto your sleeve.

Hyunjin leans down, brows furrowed worriedly. Also uncharacteristic.

“You okay?” He asks, tone soft, voice concerned.

Responding breathlessly from both your near-death experience and how ungodly close you are to a prince, you meekly nod, allowing the boy to ease you upright.

Dear god what is with you?!

Navigating the exhibition tucked away near a library, neither of you waste time getting to work. So as the sky begins dimming to eve and you briefly think of Sana, likely beyond confused back at the dorm, you curve around to the last sculpture replicated, the world renowned “Bacchus”.

“Greek sculptures are beautiful, aren’t they.” He speaks, voice hollow and hardly audible unless you craned close. His eyes flit to every inch of the statue, taking in the precise attention to detail carving the fingerprints lingering on flesh, specific shadows emphasizing pained expressions or that of happiness, fingernails so deliberately intricate it terrifies you.

Hyunjin has a way of leaving you breathless.

“Yeah..” You mutter, scribbling some messy bullet points and getting a decent basis on the overall anatomy of the sculpture.

You often wonder how such masterpieces have remained perfectly intact after countless years. You wonder if Hyunjin is like that too. That, even if you got close to him, he’d stay the same. Bitter, uninviting. To others at least.

To you, he’s different. You like it.

Or, he’d change.

Perhaps become sweeter, lace his tongue in honey when he spoke to you.

You quickly force the thought away.

However, what you don’t realize is that you leave Hyunjin breathless all the same. Because with your attention being elsewhere (for a second occasion), you hadn’t noticed his gaze landing on you when he said beautiful.

.. .

Hyunjin is a gentleman. And in all honesty, this occasion, despite the fact you’re simply visiting an exhibition, feels more like a date than anything.

He’s geared you to the left of him while he shields the road on your walk home, he brought flowers, and even saved you from a catastrophe. You’d count that as a pretty gentleman-type move.

Arriving at your complex and promising to text more details to each other tomorrow, his hand—stirring déjà vú in your stomach—grasps your sleeve for a second time.

Gently turning you around, his thumb reaches up to lightly press against your bottom lip, index hooked beneath your chin.

You’re certain you’ve forgotten to breathe by now.

“Hyunjin.. What're you doing….?” You hesitantly drag out, phrase muffled.

Absentmindedly clicking his tongue, he maneuvers your head left and right, a slow smile crawling onto his cheeks upon witnessing your flustered state.

“Making sure I get the color right,” He responds nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t mere centimeters away from your lips.

Dusty red, he was right.

Leaning his head down with a small tilt, his breath barely ghosts over your face, mischievous smirk beginning to grate your nerves the longer he holds that smug cockiness.

“See you tomorrow?” He muses, shoving cold hands into his pockets while ensuring you get inside safely.

“Yeah Yeah..” You grumble, praying he doesn’t notice you trip up the stairs, mind buzzing wildly.

He does, and he laughs.

Hyunjin knew your habits, and now, in the middle of your coincidentally ideal project, he finds himself learning again and again. There’s so much to you, so many layers he hopes to uncover, so much that becomes hard not falling for.

He can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

“Y/n?”

Sana knocks on your room’s door. You hum in acknowledgement.

“Where did you get those flowers?”

> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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proxycrit · 6 months

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Welcome to the Nightmare Town called my house! I am @proxycrit , and I go by they/them or he/him. Please note I am an adult and please don’t tag blankshipping at me. Thanks!

This is my repost/sketch blog, where I chuck things I chuckle at. If you wish to see my nice art blog, please make your way to @critterbitter , which is infested by submas because I seem to have fallen down a hyperfixation rabbit hole and can’t escape. | EDIT: HAH YOU FOOLS, I ESCAPED. (No I didn't, but I AM going on hiatus till early july so I can Get the bread to survive the tax season. See ya!) HERE'S SOME ART TAGS

Submas AU (Salvaging the Ship of Theseus)

Hollow Knight AU (The Art of Dandelions)

MLP Redesign (Rest your Weary Hooves in our New Found Home)

BOTW nonsense (Lonks Diary)

General pokemon doodles (Unholy grab bag of Guys)

COMMISSION INFORMATION

(Currently closed)

(You can also scroll through #critdraws, which is my art tag! All miscellaneous doodles can also be found here.)

I am also available on instagram! But to a much lesser degree, as I treat that site mostly as an illustration commission work place. Feel free to look through though! I still have all my old zelda stuff on there.

#about me!#critterbitter #pinned #critdraws

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silversweetpea · 2 years

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Stitched Up

Word Count: 4422

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: The Devil get cold too sometimes, and it seems a shame to toss out perfectly good fabric...

Warnings: Offscreen violence heavily implied, Reader has a panic attack at one point in the story but Matt talks them through it.

Author’s Note: Hello, welcome back to Petal being self indulgent with their writing again lmao. I’m a sucker for five and one stories and that’s pretty evident from the structure of this guy (although technically it’d be better called three and one but semantics). I also have no idea how fashion college degrees work so please excuse that I just wanted an excuse to write about giving our guy a gift.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

“I’m not afraid of you,” Your voice doesn’t shake, which is the part that scares you more than the man in front of you.

“You should be,” The devil of hells kitchen responds.

He’s beaten and bloody and bruised beneath the suit. you can see cuts in the fabric from whatever the beginning of the night held for him. Still, despite his presentation. you know him as much as any other resident does. There's a reason the man who had tried to corner you had dropped his gun and ran when the horned shadow stretched over the alleyway and there's a reason you stayed besides the shock.

Daredevil doesn’t hold back against criminals, but you’re just a civilian on their way home from your friend’s house.

“Thank you," Your hands tremble but you try to convince yourself its from the biting autumn wind. The Devil barely nodded before moving to leave. There’s an interesting dichotomy in your head as the part of you that remembers your test in the morning and stranger danger rules screams at the top of its lungs to hurry home where you can hide under the blankets and call your friends. It had been a while since you caught up with each other’s lives, hadn’t it? Wouldn’t a friendly voice be good to hear right now?

“You can thank me by getting off the street,” it’s a gruff response but not particularly unkind and it only fuels the whispering voice that urges you after him.

You can’t help but blame that whisper for the fleeting idea that he has a nice voice as well as the way that your feet follow him. Your eyes drifted to the red suit and the nasty gashes in the fabric as he walked along the sidewalk. You wondered for just a second what the pair of you must look like, you laden with bags of fabric and shoes to repair and the devil of hell's kitchen desperately trying to speed walk away from you.

“Do you have someone who can stitch up your suit?” The vigilante didn’t stop but he did visibly roll his shoulders in frustration at your continued presence. You couldn’t be sure why he didn’t just scale another building like the one that he had dropped down from, but if you were a gambler you would put money on the gashes along his back and arms.

“What?”

“Your suit. It doesn’t look like it’s made of the best material,” Words spill out like an unmanned faucet left to run, nerves had always made you more chatty. “I mean it looks good on you don’t get me wrong but I was just going to say that I could stitch it up for you, if you wanted.”

Your face feels warm when he finally does stop and the gruffness has more bite this time.

“Go home.”

Your feet feel rooted to the cement as you watch him go. It only takes a minute or two for him to disppear down an alley way but it feels longer given how much time you spend standing in the dim lighting of the street lamps.

The shock of the night lingers long enough to make it hard to remember how you got home, and you blame the paranoia you experience the rest of the night on being shaken up as well. You had no reason to believe that there were eyes on your back the whole way home, after all.

And the next morning, finding yourself on the couch surrounded by sketches of hypothetical potential winter appropriate superhero suits for hypothetical heroes and your favorite show on the telelvision where you had left the reruns the night before, you tried to put it out of your mind. You had known the risks of living alone in Hell’s Kitchen, and it had been just another day hadn’t it?

The whisper doesn’t agree. Your classes push forward but your free time is spent prototyping jackets. Fashion had always meant to be fun, it was your passion and your way of expression, so focusing on practicality was a bit harder than you were expecting. The Devil is still active, you hear the reports in the morning on the news just as loudly as the rumors on the street. Your friends ask if you want to move in with them and you think of a man’s back covered in gashes and rips when you say no.

Early fall grows late by the time you see him next. Leaves that had just barely been dusted with color now dripped with it in piles on the ground beneath the empty trees. One of which was where you had caught sight of him, perched in the bare branches like a strange bird native only to the kitchen. His black suit had been swapped out for a simpler black you recognized from blurry photos online. It’s not as flashing and the material looks worse for the wear but you know its him nonetheless.

Not only because of the wrappings on his hands or the way he held so eerily still, but because you knew by now that no other hero was brave enough to stick their nose into his territory.

Your backpack feels heavier than it had when you left this morning as you stood there. You had packed it for a reason, just like you had spent all that time on prototypes for a reason, but the thought of handing over your work to someone never became less daunting.

“Go home,” You jump nearly a foot in the air at the words. The night had been so quiet - or at least as quiet as Hells Kitchen ever was - that the sudden noise felt deafening. In between your thundering heartbeat though you can hear that his voice is thick with annoyance, but thicker still with exhaustion.

“You said that last time too,” Daredevil sighs but doesn’t leave when you take your bag off and begin to root through it. “Why did you switch your suit?”

“Do you expect me to answer that?”

“I was kinda hoping you would, yeah.” The man doesn't respond verbally this time, just drops from the tree with a solid thud and begins walking off. It takes all of two seconds before you’re able to swallow your nerves and chase after but the distance between the two of you feels like it’s been way longer than that. “Wait, wait I’m sorry. I’m not good small talk.”

“If I wanted small talk I’d head to queens.” The lights of the neon signs and smoke make him look like someone out of a comic book. You wonder what you look like to him but you can’t focus too much on that train of thought without loosing your nerve completely.

“Right, sorry. I just,” There’s bile rising at the back of your throat from the way that he’s looking at you. Or you assumed he was at least, his eyes were still just as covered as they were in his usual suit. “well I have something for you.”

He finally stops and you nearly run into him given that you’re so focused on trying to catch up. The jacket in your hands suddenly feels littered with mistakes and there’s a distinct screaming to try and shove it back in the bag and tell him it was all a lie. Daredevil doesn’t move from his spot but he does turn around and even in the dark and the limitations of his suit you can read his confusion clearly.

“Its getting cold out and I don’t know how thick the fabric of your suit is so I made you a coat. There’s no tracking or anything in it if you’re worried about that, I’m not good enough with tech for that sort of thing.” It had occurred to you as you were working on it that he may have said no to you repairing his suit because he was worried about his secret identity. Your hand shakes thinking that he may not accept this offering due to similar reasons.

“You made me a coat.” The Devil’s voice isn’t as harsh as it has been, almost like you’d surprised him enough to break his version of a customer service voice. It fills you with just enough warmth to take another step forward and force the jacket into his hand before you can back out and run home.

“Yeah. It’s not the most fashionable but it’s pretty streamline because that seemed kind of important to being able to fight and there’s lots of pockets because those seemed handy. I don’t know how well you can see in there but it’s just black with red detailing. I didn’t want to get the wrong shade of red and have it clash too much and-” You hadn’t realized that you were speaking as fast as you were until you had to stop to take a breath. His posture is just as stiff but his hands are gently exploring the feel of the fabric in a way that makes you feel like you did something right. “I’m sorry. You don’t really need to know all that it’s just that, uhm, well I talk when I’m nervous.”

Daredevil doesn’t comment on why you would be nervous and that alone makes you think that he has more mercy than many would consider. The silence lingers for a moment or two longer before he clears his throat and speaks again.

“Thank you.” For the first time he sounds kind, his lips don’t quite reach a smile but there isn’t the harsh set to them that there was at the beginning of your conversation.

“No problem.” The words sound breathless because they are. Your lungs suddenly can’t quite fill all the way up with the smoke heavy air and when he slowly slips into the jacket they loose all their air completely. “It looks good on you.”

That one gets a smile and it’s brighter than any of the signs around you.

“It’s late. You should get going.” He’s still smiling, still wearing a jacket with your label on the inside collar, even as he ushers you off into the night again. The weeks of sewing and scrapped patterns and pricked finger tips suddenly doesn’t seem like that bad of a price to pay to burn the image of his mouth into your brain.

“Yeah, Goodnight.”

You leave first this time, giddy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The walk is shorter than it’s ever been and you all but fall into your bed when you reach you apartment.

When you check twitter the next morning there’s a single, dark photo of him mid jump from someone trying to ask about his ‘new costume’ and you’re quick to save it to your phone.

It’s still there the next time you see him. It’s later than you’d like but three run ins with the devil of hells kitchen is three more than most people would get.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” His hand is on your arm but you can barely feel it. Everything around you is spinning, your fist clenched tightly around the taser that you had sworn you would never need to use. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

You can hear him, you know you can, but it’s hard to focus on what he’s actually saying.

“Of course,” the words are as solid as any other you could have said but the grip on your arm tightens just barely. You’re not looking at him though, eyes still locked on the brick wall across the alley from you. You hadn’t picked this alley to hide in while Daredevil took care of the would be assaulters, whatever that had meant when he left you here to catch your breath. If you had, you’re not sure if you would have picked one that had a graffiti work of an angel and a devil looming over you.

“You should sit down, you’re in shock.” There’s a pull, not hard enough that you can’t pull away from it yourself, but enough that you know the Devil is trying to get you to sit. Your eyes still don’t leave the mural on the bricks, you know the ground is wet though with this morning’s rain.

“I’d rather not. New pants. Dirty alley way.” Was it normal to feel guilty for self preservation? You didn’t know what would have happened had you not lashed out to protect yourself, you could say that with certainty, but the way the man had dropped to the ground-

“I’ll pay the dry cleaning bill, sit down.” When he pulls you this time, you allow yourself to sit. There’s cars in the distance that you can hear honking from and somewhere nearby there’s the sound of music. Daredevil is crouched next to you, arm still in his grasp, when you realize that he’s in the same position of the winged being behind him. His colors are different and the angel doesn’t have horns, but the hold and the concern in the way they both lean towards their companion are identical.

“Did the coat work?” You ask after a minute. Anything to stop the line of thought in your head.

“Yeah, it’s great. My friends keep asking me where I got it so they can get one.” Your smile feels watery and weak but its there and he must see it through his mask given the way that his hold loosens on your arm before finally dropping. As if he’s no longer afraid that you’re going to drift away without something to ground you.

“I’m really glad. I hadn’t seen photos of you wearing it in a while so I just kinda assumed it wasn’t warm enough.” The mention of photos should make you embarrassed, and surely when you think back on the situation tomorrow you’re sure it will. Right now though you’re just focused on the way that he smiles again, almost laughs, like the thought of you looking for paparazzi photos of him is funny to him.

“I was in a bit of a rush to get to work one day and grabbed it without thinking. Figured it might raise too many eyebrows if I kept wearing it on patrol after that.” It’s more information than he’d ever given you before and for good reason. Still, having that sliver of information feels like finding your favorite hoodie fresh from the wash. It’s something to clutch to your chest and carry with you.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” This time he does laugh, a short sound but one that you think would make a wonderful ringtone for your phone. It makes you finally understand why artists sample their loved ones’ voices in songs, you want the whole world to hear Daredevil’s laugh and know that he’s not all that bad.

“You’re a bit odd,” It’s not wrong exactly but something about the way he says it makes you want to bury your head in your hands and scream out laughing at the same time. You settle for something in between and rest your head on your arms which rest on top of your knees. Face not quite hidden yet but only a moment away from doing so if the need arises.

“You’re the one in a costume.” Daredevil doesn’t laugh again but his smile is still so bright it makes your eyes water.

“You’ve got me there.” His voice is quiet, soothing. Your pants are wet from the pavement and you can feel the chill seeping in through the fabric but you can’t quit bare the thought of getting up yet.

“Thank you for staying.” If you asked to hold his hand would he laugh at you? Would that be crossing a line?

“Yeah, well, I figured if I left you’d make me another coat.” It’s nice to be teased, taser heavy in your pocket but not your hand. It’s nice to have someone talk with you as if you hadn’t just hurt someone else for the first time.

“You’re right and now I’m gong to have to make you two new coats.” It’s nice to tease him back as if he’s just another friend and not a vigilante. It’s nice to pretend that you’re arguing over how many christmas presents to get each other this year.

“How about just a hat, hard to find ones with holes for the horns.” You’re pretty sure he’s trying to make you laugh again but you’re too focused thinking on how silly that must look.

“Two hats and a scarf?” He could make christmas cards out of the papparazi photos, especially if you went with a green color scheme.

“One hat and a set of mittens.” The devil holds out his hand and you hum for just a moment, letting it stand before taking his hand in yours again. It’s warm and you try not to think about how well the two of you fit together.

“Deal.” Even after a gentle shake you don’t let go and your friend, you think at least, pulls you to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

That’s the last time you see him for a while. Your fault, you know, you don’t walk much after dark anymore and Daredevil never seems to be active during the day. Weeks go by and finals begin to loom just as snow begins to fall. The approved hat and mittens and unapproved scarf you decided to make with the leftover fabric sit untouched in tissue paper in your bag.

You think, most days, that perhaps that would be the last of it. That you had had your three times to befriend him or learn more about him and you had blown it with panic attacks and nervous rambling. And then one of your friends asked you to deliver a package for her on a day off.

The building was small and definitely had seen some better days, but at least it was shelter from the bitterly cold wind. All you wanted was to drop the suit off, call Jasmine to remind her to bring the doughnuts you liked from the campus bakery when she finished classes for the day, and curl up with a silly feel good movie and your phone.

In fact you’re so busy mentally picking out what pajamas you’re going to change into when you get home that you almost miss it completely when you walk in.

“Hi I’m looking fo-” your voice catches in your throat when you see it. There’s a woman at the desk, probably the one you’ve been sent to find, but there’s also a man standing next to her.

It’s not his neat shirt and pants that catch your attention or his dark hair and indoor sunglasses. It’s not the white cane he’s leaning on or the familiar tilt of his lips as he talks to the woman next to him. It’s the fact that he’s wearing the jacket you stitched together.

“Hello?” It takes far too long to realize the greeting is directed towards you and when you do you can feel the warmth that gathers in your face as you clear your throat.

“Hi, sorry, uhm, I have a package for Ms. Page? It’s from Jasmine if that helps jog your memory at all.”

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting you until later! Thank you!” Her smile is warm and friendly, and you feel bad that you don’t want to look at it. Not when the man is suddenly standing stock still and the smile has slipped from his lips.

“It’s no problem, really. She wanted me to let you know that if there’s any issue with the inseam to just give her a call she couldn’t remember whether you two had decided to round up or down on the decimal.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, thank you. I’m Karen,”

“(Y/n),” she blinked and looked at the man behind her briefly before shaking her head with a polite laugh.

“You wouldn’t happen to make jackets would you?”

“I’m back and I bring coffee!”

“I should go, I have a couple other things to drop off before I can head home and that cold is killer.” You don’t linger long enough to even introduce yourself to new man in the doorway or say goodbye to Karen, too afraid of tipping your hand too much.

You weren’t lying about one thing at least, the cold is killer especially as you sit on a bench half a block away trying to adjust to the potential bombshell you just had dropped in your lap.

“You never sent me your dry cleaning bill.” You know who it is before you turn around. Your heartrate doubles, the organ working overtime at the thought that you had messed up somehow.

He's smiling when you turn around. It's the same one he gave you in the alley and yet it feels brand new. There's snow landing in his hair and spotting his coat, your coat.

“You didn’t need to follow me I’m not going to tell anyone.” It takes longer than you would have liked to answer and for the first time when talking to Daredevil you sound afraid. You are though, not of him, never of him, but of the embaressment of being scared of the dark? Or the potential questioning of how you found him? Hell even the idea of having slipped up and spilled too many clues somehow and Karen had been able to grill him for information afterwards was a nightmare.

The man's brow furrows just a touch, head tilted ever so slightly as the smile slips into something more confused.

“That’s-” He cuts himself off with a small clearing of his throat. Daredevil's posture shifts slightly and you notice the cane in his hands again. It looks startlingly similar to the cane you had seen people with visual imparements use. “Good to know.”

“Really. I couldn’t tell people if I wanted to, I don’t know if you’re Nelson or Murdock or just some random client that walked in looking for counsel.” The smile is gone completely now, even as he nods. Still he raises a hand to gesture to the bench you're on.

“Can I?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!" It's almost a certainty that you sound incompetent as you shuffle sideways on the bench. You almost wished he was in costume again, at least that way while you would be nervous you wouldn't have to know he was cute while you embaressed yourself.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” His voice is soft around the edges, a verbal olive branch woven into a basket in which you can put as much trust as you'd like.

Unfortunately you'd already placed all your trust in the pockets of the jacket he wore, had it sewn into the lining.

“What?” Daredevil sighs, his fingers tapping on the cane in front of him.

“I can tell you're nervous," The man's voice is still carefully slow. Each word sounds purposeful and careful as it leaves his lips.

"Yeah, I'm nervous but not because i think you'll hurt me! I would never think that!" He seems unconvinced, but more so there's a sense of uncertainty. It sounds silly, everyone feared the Devil even other heroes. When you thought of him there should be a shiver down your spine and a quicker beat to your steps. You can't bring yourself to be afraid though, at least not more so than you are of any other hero. In fact if you had to choose between talking with him and talking with any of the other locals you'd choose Daredevil in an instant. None of the others had helped you or your loved ones in the dark corner of the city they pretended didnt exist. None of them had laughed with you or walked you home when you were scared. "Really, I'm just nervous because I didn't want you to think I was stalking you or anything."

It's true enough for some of the tension to leave his posture though and that feels like a victory worth celebrating regardless of the unspoken parts of your confession. The pair of you sit in quiet for a moment and you try not to stare at him too hard.

You're pretty sure you're failing though. It's too hard to look away when his expressions are so emotive. You didn't think that seeing his cheeks or forehead would influence how easy it is to read him but it's like looking at a whole new person.

“It’s Murdock.” There's a pretty good chance you jump when he speaks, especially since the smile comes back to him so fast.

“I'm sorry?"

“You said you didn’t know if I was Nelson or Murdock. I’m Murdock. Most people call me Matt though.” Matt. It fits him nicely. “Nelson was the guy with coffee you brushed past who is, by the way, now convinced you’re an ex I never told him about.”

The nervous laughter comes before you can stop it, but when you bury your face in your hands you can hear him give a small laugh of his own.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the laughter doesn't stop when you look at him, face burning with heat you're trying desperately to hide despite being equally as desperate to see him and know what he's thinking about the matter.

“Admitting guilt isn’t usually something people do with lawyers.” The tease is enough to force your gaze back into your fingers. It was strange how open he was without the suit, how much kinder he was. "You should probably be heading home.”

“You’re always trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?” it's hard to tease Matt back when you're still flustered yourself but it's worth the effort to see the boyish grin.

“It’s cold out," There's a pause and in it you can hear an almost laugh slip out again. "And now that you know where to find me maybe you’ll come back with my mittens.”

Your heart skips at the proposition.

“Would you be okay with that?” it's hard to talk around the frog in your throat, almost convinced he's just joking still.

“Well, it might be easier to convince Foggy that you’re not my ex if you’re also there.” Matt hasn't turned towards you but you still feel like the center of the world when he tips his head in your direction. “Maybe not though.”

#matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #daredevil x gender neutral reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock headcanon

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annabelle-creart · 8 days

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How the AViVA’s song says: never understand what i’m cooking (Houdini by AViVA)

Ok, if you remember the post where I said I remembered what I wanted to do before forgetting it, it was something like this

The Sweet Tooth brainrot is making fun of me and wanted me to make an Au

So, here’s my Tf Rescue Bots x Sweet Tooth Au, where the bots (excepting Hightide) are Hybrids kids and the Rescue Team, simple humans from Maine, save them and protect them

At first I wanted them to be like cyberorganic and not completely hybrids but then I said “nah, let’s make them kids” because i wanted some animal kids shenanigans and here we are

I just saw that I forgot to make Sissi, shit, well, Sissi is undetermined, but I want her to be a fox.

The wolves triplet are Shockwave, Soundwave and Heatwave

The kids with Graham are Boulder (left) and Bulkhead (right) and are hedgehogs, the big man is Hightide and the kids he have on his arms are Blurr (left) and Salvage (right), a saanen goat and a german shepherd dog

The kids above Hightide are Cody and Frankie as apocalypse teens HAJAHSJS. Ft. Kade and Quickshadow as an owl

And the red panda and the budgie are Chase and Blades

I sincerely just wanted to sketch a little but let’s make some backstory

When the great crumble happened, Griffin Rock had to close to any kind of person, but chief Burns couldn’t let the kids, the new hybrids, by their own, he was sure they wouldn’t survive with the angry people and wanted to make something, so, he left the island with the hope he could save some, and so he did, a year later he came back with some kids, and after seeing they’re not contagious, Griffin Rock became a secret sanctuary for hybrids, but the job was still undone and Charlie had to go, since then, Kade became rescue chief and made sure to protect both citizens and hybrid orphans, especially when the new pregnancies resulted on hybrids and the people started to really fear the kids, but sometimes, he’s replaced by his siblings to make his dad company at mainland and help him.

Thanks to Griffin Rock’s tech, the island never was found again by people, especially the Last Men, who hunted hybrids, making their own ways to reach mainland without being reached, at that times, Graham, the engineer of the Rescue Team, Ezra Greene, scientist lead, and Hightide, named Horace in this Au, a retired Navy and marine soldier, have to help guiding the kids when Charlie can’t

As Kade, Frankie and Cody became also “saviors of hybrids” because they wanted

And for Morrocco, Madeline and the other zoo guy I don’t remember the name, I wanted to kill them with the Sick (the virus that fucked up everything) but it would be fun to have them trying to reach Griffin Rock, like, Morrocco needs the kids blood to make a cure for the Sick but he really wants to stay young with their blood, and Madeline is a racist who uses the kids as trophies and her influences to hunt the kids and the zoo guy want them for their zoo or something, like with the bots :=)

This group, the triplet, the twins, Blurr, Salvage, Quickshadow, Chase and Blades, were the hardest to find and save, because they were bought by the Last Men to be used on experiments, the wolf triplet could escape before being Last Men's soup and found Charlie using their noses, they told them everything as they could because Shockwave was the only one who knew to talk but poorly, so, Charlie prepared an ambush when the kids were transported by train to save them, the equivalents of Hence, Board, Bridget, Stone and Grill were already used, never were find again, but the rest were rescued and sent to Griffin Rock. their lives became a little brighther since then.

But the Last Men weren't the only ones who wanted the hybrids…

Whatever, don’t mind my crazy ass🙃

#for you #transformers #rescue bots #for your page #maccadam #tf rescue bots #tfrobotsindisguise #art #artists on tumblr #sketch #sweet tooth show #sweet tooth #sweets #tf au #tfrb #Spotify

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blxckbutterfli · 2 years

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in the middle of the night, together

—characters. albedo, childe, diluc, itto, kazuha, venti, xiao (separate)

—contains. modern!au, brief mention of blood and death (diluc remembers his dad), alcohol (itto) and getting reaaaally drunk (venti), reader is said to be small (itto) but overall, this is fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!

—wordcount. 1.2k

—albedo. textbooks spread across the table, his eyes switch between each of them as he scribbles down on his notebook, handwriting no longer neat from the past few hours of constantly writing. sometimes, for a few seconds, he could feel it—drowsiness creeping its way in as his eyelids close for a second too long, as his body relaxes a little too much and the pencil falls out of his hand. he clicked his tongue, deciding to take a break for now, only to turn to you and realized you’ve already lost the battle to sleep. albedo chuckled at your hunched figure over the table, your face buried into the sleeves of your hoodie. picking up his pencil once again, he hopes he at least has enough energy to draw one last sketch of you.

—childe. it’s the ladder that has you wheezing. the audacity childe had, bringing over a god damn ladder just to sneak you out from the second floor of your home. sometimes you don’t know if it was a mistake for childe to get a drivers license. it wasn’t as if he was a bad driver (quite the opposite) but his license just opens a whole new can of troubles and mischief you guys could do. and so you climb down, jumping into his arms on the last step. you can’t stop laughing as you enter his car, high from the adrenaline of sneaking out, rebelling against your parents, being in a forbidden situation. blasting music in the car as you speed through the streets, windows open and wind blowing past your hair, you two shout the lyrics to the empty sky.

—diluc. he can’t sleep again, of course he can’t, diluc grumbled to himself, thoughts disarray. whenever his father’s death anniversary neared, the memories came back to him: his father’s last words, blood stained on his hands, his limp body. a tap on his arm brought him out of his rumination, you stood beside him, offering a cup of hot chocolate. he hadn’t even realized you were awake, thought his attempts at sneaking out of bed and into the balcony were as smooth and quiet as can be. he thanked you for the drink, and diluc’s heart tightened at the sight of you—eyes barely open and movement sluggish, yet still managed to conjure up enough energy to send him a cute smile. he almost forced you to go back to sleep but then you wrapped your arm around his, securing your spot right next to him for the rest of the night. it’s not like he could refuse you.

—itto. sometimes, you felt like hugging itto because of how adorable and quite caring he could be, but sometimes you also felt like punching him because of how honestly dumb and inconvenient he can be to. and right now, you felt like both. ringing your bell in the middle of the night, he interrupted your beauty sleep just so he could hang out with you. you’d be fine with the spontaneous visit, if it weren’t for the fact that his definition of hanging out meant dragging your half asleep ass to the nearest convenience store. you swear you could fall asleep right now even as you sit on the curb with a can of beer in one hand and a sandwich on the other. he laughed at your messed up state, pulling you towards his chest joking that you can use him as a pillow. you find that offer both enticing and cringey. you give into your desire to punch him as you lightly hit and push him away, a laugh coming at his offended face. yet still, you wished to hug him, it had been two months, after all. two months of not seeing each other, too busy with work and life in general. so you do, giving him a big hug, shushing up his grumbles about why you pushed him away, and for a moment he lets you have this moment. a moment of peace, tranquility, and just you and him. then he opened opened his big, fat mouth again as he commented on how small you were.

—kazuha. the apartment was pitch black when he got home, nothing but the city lights peeking through the sheer curtain. kazuha’s entire body ached, the work stress built up throughout the day, now threatening to collapse as any moment as his movements neared your shared bedroom. when he trudges into the room, he almost laughs at the sight. with a nightlight in the room, you lay on the bed, blankets around you like a burrito whilst holding the cute cat plushy he won for you at a carnival a few years back. you wake up when you felt the bed sink beside you, opening your eyes to a blur of white slumped on your bed. you abandon your plushy and push it off to the side as you, in your burrito form, attempt to scootch over to your grinning boyfriend, only for the effort to be in vain once you realize you didn’t really have the arms to wrap around him. but his laugh was enough to satisfy you, after a hard day of work, the least you could do was make him smile even for a little bit.

—venti. what’s an even more iconic group than venti and alcohol? of course, venti, alcohol and karaoke. the bar closing at 1 am doesn’t give nearly enough time for you and Venti to have fun, so you drag each other through the streets, occasionally bumping against walls and almost tripping over non-existant rocks on the sidewalk. you were lucky the streets were empty at this point or else you’d look like a bunch of crazy giggling drunkards flailing down the road. but if you thought that was the peak of venti’s drunkenness, then imagine what he’s doing with even more alcohol in his system and karaoke. you screamed into the mic with all your heart and venti cheers for you, clapping and ad-libbing the whole way through and takes another swig of dandelion wine to celebrate the song. suffice to say, you two were going to wake up to the worst headaches ever, but that was for the future you to worry about. for now, you’ll just keep cheering with venti.

—xiao. a gamer through and through, he doesn’t leave the controller for a second, dedicating his entire attention to the tv screen as zombies one after another comes running towards him. you sit above him on the couch, his body between between your legs as you balance a bowl of ice cream on his head. xiao scoffed at first when you attempted to balance it, but still he must have found it funny enough that he stayed even more still than before just to let you happily use him as a table. you totally secretly took a picture and planned to tease him for it later. you both groan when the screen flashes red, a big fat game over displayed on the screen. removing the bowl from the his head, you gently push his body back to rest between your legs, your fingers now treading through his hair. he softens at the gesture, closing his eyes for moment before opening them to meet with yours. a soft smile played on your lips, a mumble of encouragement for him to beat the game. for a moment, he almost smiled back.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

#genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines

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romancingdaffodils · 1 year

Text

Pictures and Portraits

The Exhibition

LETS GO PART THREE

artist!wilbur x reader

3.1k WORDSSSS

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU LILLY AND JADE FOR HELPING ME OUT!! U GUYS R THE GREATEST

thank u for everyone liking my stuff i’m so grateful and i’m so happy thank you guys i love you so much i’m so glad u like my stuff

once again lilac writes pure fluff nothing but fluff always fluff

Saturday. You were stood in front of the mirror, a frown planted on your face. Desperately tugging on your clothes, you felt so dumb. Once again, you were going over the top to impress Wilbur. You had last seen him on Thursday, you felt sick with nerves. You’d spent all of yesterday texting him, he’d sent you a picture of the painting he had started when you first met. It was almost finished, you’d complimented him and his work nonstop. He’d complimented any pictures you sent, especially the ones of yourself. You decided you’d ask him about your current outfit choice, you still felt stupid.

‘Wil, can you tell me if this looks okay please :)’ you pressed send, along with a picture of your reflection in the mirror. He read the message. He started typing. He stopped. He started typing once more. He stopped.

‘WILBUR JUST RESPOND STOP DOING THAT.’ you added to your previous message. You could practically hear his laugh through the screen.

‘Sorry just had to print out that picture. You’re gorgeous dove. You’re making me feel a bit underdressed actually. Pick you up in 10.’

‘HAHA, okay. No I’m sure you’ll look great Wil :). See you in a bit.’

You panicked. Rummaging around your room, you desperately attempted to find a bag that matched your outfit. Upon finding one, you stepped out of your room and walked to the front door. You paced up and down, your stomach turning. The knock at your door came sooner than expected, you flung your door open and flashed Wilbur your brightest smile.

“Hey.” he said, smiling down at you. His hands were full, one holding flowers and the other had the sketch pad in hand. The sketch pad he had first drawn you in.

“Hi. Oh, Wil you shouldn’t have.” you replied, looking down at his hands. He simply laughed in response.

“Don’t worry dove, it comes at a price. You got a vase for these?” he said, gesturing to the flowers. You nodded and moved towards your kitchen, letting him into your flat. He closed the door behind him with his foot, following you through to the kitchen. You filled the vase with some water and then held it forwards, he placed the flowers in.

“What’s the price?” you asked, head tilted as you placed the vase in the middle of a shelf in your kitchen.

“I can’t quite get the lips right in this, do you mind?” he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the lounge. You didn’t mind at all. You sat down on the couch, your knees pressed against Wil’s who was now sat next to you. He had his pencil pushed against the page, leaning further and further in.The gap between you was barely existent. Wilbur smiled, his eyes flicking down to your lips. Your whole face felt like it was burning, he was smirking at you. “Sorry dove. I just really, really can’t get your lips right. Too pretty I think.” he stated, looking back to his sketch pad and then leaning straight back in. He was so shameless. You couldn’t reply, you were completely tongue tied.

He tilted his head as he closed the gap completely, your lips met. His hand delicately crept up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek. Both of your eyes were shut, your hand shakily moved up to the hair at the nape of his neck. You intertwined your fingers with his hair, scratching at the skin beneath it. He hummed into the kiss, the soft vibrations sending tingling sensations across your body. The butterflies in your stomach had broken free and were now attacking the rest of your body, your head was spinning. Wilbur so expertly moved his lips with yours, you couldn’t tell how nervous he felt. You couldn’t tell at all. But, he was so anxious. You turned him into a fool. He’d told you when you first met ‘You’re going to ruin me.’, and now he had confirmation he was right. You’d flipped his world upside down in the best way possible. Now he was a nervous mess, kissing someone he was so fond of. Someone who never turned him down.

He pulled away, taking in heavy breaths, eyes opening to admire your face. Your lips were still slightly parted, you looked back at him in some sort of daze. You smiled. He smiled. His hand hadn’t left the side of your face, and truthfully you didn’t want it to. Dropping down your hand to his shoulder, you delicately placed your other hand on the side of his neck. It was hot. You had no doubt your face was hot too.

“You alright?” he asked, admiring everything about you.

“Perfect.” you mumbled, you could no longer meet his eyes. You felt far too embarrassed. To you, the kiss had felt incredible, but what if it was horrendous. What if you were a shit kisser? You’d kissed people before, sure, but never Wilbur.

“You’re indescribable.” he stated, his thumb brushed over your lips. His hand still on the side of your face, the other had moved to rest on your waist now. “So, so fantastic. You’re everything. Especially for someone I’ve known four days. ” he added, eyes wandering to your lips once again.

“Y’too nice to me Wil.”

“Not nice enough.”

“You’re horrible.”

“You’re cruel.” he replied, laughing softly at your completely love-stricken expression.

“We’re going to be late.” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“I lied, doesn’t start till one. We’ve got a good hour and a half.”

“Oh?”

“Sorry. I wanted to spend some time with you.”

“You just had to ask.”

“I know. Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded silently, he leant back in. You fell back onto the couch rest of the couch, head resting on the arm, laughing into the kiss. Your arms that had once been supporting you had turned to jelly - you had literally fallen for him. He smiled, his hand never once leaving your face. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on your cheek, the hand on your waist kept a tight grip. He slipped his tongue in, so innocently. As though it were nothing. You had both your hands on the back of his head, he was positioned above you after you had collapsed backwards. The delicate scratching sensation made his heart melt all over again. You giggled into the kiss as he squeezed your waist. His hand moved up and down - reaching your hips and then repeating the action. You were in some sort of trance. Pure adoration had control of your mind as you felt nothing but Wilbur. Wilbur felt nothing but you.

You both pull away, looking at each other with glazed eyes.

“I hope you haven’t crumpled my outfit, Wilbur.” you said, laughing lightly.

“I think that’s the least of your worries.” he replied, using his thumb to try and fix the lipstick that was smudged across the edge of your lips. It was also smudged over Wil’s lips.

“You’ve got lipstick on you.” you stated the obvious, he just raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah? Does it look good?”

“Mhmmm. It’d look better if it wasn’t all over your mouth.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You kissed me first!”

“You’re the one with lipstick on.” he teased, still trying to fix the mess of your lips. It wasn’t going very well and had just left him with a red thumb and index finger.

“Fair point. It looks a bit funny.”

“Yeah? Look what you’ve done.” he said, lifting his hand into your view. You laughed at his now tinted finger and thumb, he can’t help but smile.

“You tried to fix it. Once again it’s your fault.”

“Oh, forgive me for being kind to you.”

“You’re forgiven.”

He sat up and moved away from you, sitting properly on the couch. He stretched out his legs, knees beginning to ache. “One hour, are you excited?” he said, looking down at his watch. He turned his head to you, watching as you struggled to sit up properly. He laughed, you scowled back at him.

“So excited, I’ll get to see more of your work. And meet Joe.” you said, finally managing to sit up straight. Wilbur laughed, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t make fun of me after what he says.” he said, grabbing your face gently and making you face him. You laughed as he squished together your cheeks.

“No promises.” you said as you swatted away his hand, laughing at him once again. “Come here.” you added, Wilbur turned to face you. You moved onto your knees, and began pressing kisses across his face, the shadow of red lips being left on his skin. You were now the artist, your muse was your canvas. He smiled, laughing as you tilted his head to get a better angle.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his hands safely settled on your hips, helping you maintain your balance.

“Working.” you responded, humming as you pulled away to examine your piece. “One sec.” you said, freeing yourself from his grip. You wandered over to a shelf and grabbed your camera. The same camera you had used the day you met. You walked back and stood in front of him, giggling to yourself.

“Photoshoot?” he questioned, you nodded in response.

“Smile!” you said, beginning to take pictures of him. He did smile. You were so unbelievably happy, so was he. “Pose! You’re a rockstar, you’ve just left your groupie.” you said, obviously joking. You were acting like the stereotypical photographers in film. He laughed in response, hair flopping in front of his face.

You captured every moment. Every smile, light laugh, deadpan, and the kiss he had blown you - you captured it all. He was so perfect, and so photogenic you were actually quite jealous. “Okay one more photo.” you said, grabbing a different camera from the coffee table. This one was a polaroid, you sat down next to him. He automatically wrapped his arm around you. You pushed your lips to his cheek once again, pressing the button. The camera flashed. You had the picture saved forever now. He reached over and took the polaroid from the camera, shaking it. You smiled up at him, he laughed.

“Y’gonna have to get this of my face, you know that right.” he said, continuing to shake the polaroid.

“No it looks nice, call it modern artwork.”

“You need to fix your lips too.”

“Oh, yeah, good point. Let me see.” you said, grabbing the picture from his hand. You smiled, it truly was a work of art. “I can’t paint, but I can do this.” you said, showing him the polaroid. He smiled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, go on, get some makeup wipes please. I need to look semi-smart if I want to sell anything.” he replied, taking the picture back from your hand. He pulled his phone from his pocket; he removed the case, and placed the polaroid on the back of his phone. He put the case back on. The picture was now sealed behind some clear plastic that was carried everywhere with him. You tried to ignore his actions as you walked towards your bathroom, grabbing the packet of wipes. You hummed as you removed the smudged mess from your own face, quickly reapplying the lipstick. You then moved back into the lounge, Wil was sat with his legs stretched out and his arms laid over the back of the couch. It must be painful being that tall and gangly. Delicately, you sat down next to him, wipes in hand. He turned his head to look at you, smiling. It was such a genuine smile.

“I’m ruining my masterpiece.” you said, frowning as you moved to your knees once again.

“You’re restarting with a blank canvas.” Wil responded, hands resting on your hips once again. He’d never been more delighted to be so affectionate.

“I think my canvas is too good looking.” you said, beginning the quest of wiping away the red stains. He laughed, you smiled.

“Yeah? It’s a good job you’re not my canvas then. Fortunately, you’re my muse.” he said, watching you carefully. The feeling of the wipe on his face was a little funny, he didn’t mind though.

“I think I could get used to that.”

“Good.”

“Okay, all gone. Should we set off now?” you said, sitting back on your heels. Wilbur’s hands never once moved from your waist; instead he turned his body, and moved with you.

“Sounds like a plan. I think my friends are excited to meet you.”

“Yeah… something about you not shutting up about me.”

“Something like that.” he said, letting go of you and standing up. He put his hand out, you took it. He pulled you up effortlessly, he was oh so tall. “Are you ready?” he questioned, looking down at you.

“Sure.” you replied, he slowly began moving towards the door. He picked up your bag for you, tossing you the keys from it. Sweet. The two of you walked out, locking the door behind you. So, the journey began.

You arrived at the exhibition, Wil helped you out of his car, and led you through the gallery’s doors. You could’ve screamed, you were met with the different members of Lovejoy’s artwork. Ash’s cartoon style that completely contrasted Wilbur’s own realistic portraits. Mark’s work that only could be described as fast paced, and Joe’s much tamer pieces. They all worked together so well despite being so different.

“You must be Y/n!” one of the men shouted, you assumed he was Mark by the fact he had been stood next to the big sign that read ‘Mark Boardman’.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me.” you replied, flashing him your best smile. Wil squeezed your hand, a sign of ‘don’t be nervous. they’ll love you.’ you took it gratefully.

“I’m Mark! That’s Ash.” he introduced himself and then gestured to the guy with nice hair next to him.

“I’m Joe. I’ve heard a lot about you actually, Wi-“ he started, once again being quickly cut off by his taller counterpart.

“Shut up Joe.” Wilbur said, pulling you toward the part of the gallery filled with his own work.

“Not even a ‘thank you’ for setting up your stuff?!” Mark said, leaning against a wall. Ash laughed, you were smiling. It was like a family, you could understand why they were so close.

“Thank you.” Wil said, deadpanning at his friends. You laughed, Joe was smirking at you. You raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n, Wil thinks you’re ‘impeccable’ and ‘single-handedly the most beautiful person he’s ever seen’. Oh, how could I forget ‘jesus christ she’s driving me insane’.” Joe said, shouting so Wilbur couldn’t interrupt him. Wil’s cheeks were now dusted a soft pink, he was shaking his head and repositioning the framed pieces. You laughed once again, smiling at his friends once more.

“Oh, really?” you teased, looking over at Wilbur.

“That’s not even the worst of it.” Mark added, Ash nodded along with him.

“Half an hour until we’re open.” Wilbur stated, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. His forearms were now on show, you could’ve died. You were stood awkwardly in the middle of his section, admiring his art hung on the walls. Each time he moved past you, he’d place his hands on your hips as to not bump into you. You weren’t sure if you should scream or cry, delicate touches leaving your head spinning. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it. A subconscious action that was tearing you to pieces. “Y/n, when we open up, you can sit here, if you’d like. Just so you don’t feel like you’re in the way.” Wil said, looking over to you. He gestured to a seat that was in his section. A desk with two chairs at it, it’s where transactions were made. You’d be sat, watching the art sell itself. They hardly had to do any work, though they all thought selling was the worst part - harder than the actual creation process.

You were about two hours in, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of Wilbur. He was mesmerising. He laughed along with potential customers, his art sold itself as you’d assumed. All the customers needed was a little push, a small smile, and flop of hair. Then the painting was sold, gone to a different home. Every so often, he’d look over to you and give you a thumbs up. You’d return it. He had apologised half an hour ago, he hadn’t realised how busy it was going to be. Truthfully, he’d been hoping to take you through all of the artwork in the gallery. Show you the talent that lined the walls, but you said you didn’t mind. You were quite content sitting, and watching him. Plus, you had your phone for entertainment. Then, it was his turn to completely melt. He’d never been more happy.

The exhibition came to an end, everyone looked exhausted. All of the excessively rich men and women had retreated back to their mansions, leaving the artists completely drained. Wilbur collapsed into the chair beside you, the bags under his eyes had grown tremendously.

“Hungry?” you offered, looking at him, and then to the rest of Lovejoy.

“Extremely.” Mark replied, Wilbur laughed.

“I could eat.” Joe said, looking over to Ash for confirmation. Ash put his thumbs up, you already knew Wilbur’s answer. Somehow, something told you you were going to get along well with his friends. Wil leant forward, looking at you.

“Sorry it wasn’t much of a date, love.” he whispered, directly into your ear. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, before quickly leaning back into his chair. He was so close. You felt sick, butterflies in your stomach. Wil smirked at you, eyebrows raised. You scowled back at him, he was just too mean. You couldn’t stay mad at him though, you didn’t mind it not being much of a date. You’d seen a different side to him, he was so great it was unfair.

“Can you two stop flirting please, I’m hungry.” Mark said, groaning after he spoke. Your stomach churned once again, pure embarrassment.

“Piss off.” Wil said, glaring over at him.

“To be fair, y/n did offer us food.” Joe replied, shrugging.

“You’re right. I did. There’s a nice enough pub near here, it’ll still be doing food. You wanna go there?”

“Sounds good to me.” Mark said, the rest nodded.

You were in for a long night, not that you knew it yet.

#wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #artist!wilbur #wilbur x you #please help #wilbur fanfiction #i lobe them #i’m so lonely #pure fluff

129 notes · View notes

succubusphan · 6 months

Text

Sweet Juliet

Summary: Dan is a baker in his thirties, feeling the weight of the passage of time on his shoulders, living a content yet uneventful life until a mysterious man takes it upon himself to whisk him away.

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Strangers to lovers, meet cute, non youtuber au.

Author's Note: Written for the @phandomgiftexchange as a gift to @husbants. Thank you for being amazing Nikki and for continuing this lovely tradition. I hope you enjoy it! thank you @effingmeteors for reading this over.

Total Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Ao3

Dan pulled out a massive cake from the oven and set it on the counter before he dropped it by accident - again. He shut the oven door and straightened up with a groan, hearing his back pop. “Jesus fuck,” he mumbled. No matter what his nNan said, sometimes Dan couldn’t help but feel age catching up to him. Maybe thirty years old was too old to be working this much, as Adrian said, but he just loved baking and running his little coffee shop, meeting new people and learning about their lives when they were up to talking or just observing them and coming up with his own stories for them.

You see, Dan was proud of the crowd his shop attracted with its various plants and speciality baking, the Colombian coffee and the books readily available for those who wished to immerse themselves in an alternate universe. His patrons were usually bohemian university students, established couples on a quiet date out, and artists who wished to spend hours enjoying the place and eating his various creations as they sketched a new piece. Sadly, the piano he had available hadn’t been touched in the three years since the grand opening, but he could dream.

The bell on the door dinged welcoming the first clients of the day and pulling him from his thoughts. He fixed his posture and smiled widely. “Good morning, Adeleine, how is Richard fairing?” Dan asked his older neighbour and frequent visitor.

“Oh, you know how he is! He says he will be fine but I told him to get some proper rest until Monday. His back is not what it used to and he needs to accept that. We are all ageing as it is,” Adeleine said, swishing her little coin purse as she looked at the pastry display.

“You are quite right,” Dan nodded, hating the fact that he had so much in common with the elderly couple. “What would you like this time?”

“I’ll take 4 pain au chocolates for Richard, and for me… Ugh, I shouldn’t but I can’t resist your eclairs. You are simply too talented for your own good.”

“You flatter me,” Dan said, waving her off as he picked the pastries one by one and put them in a small golden tray with an intricate flower design on the edges. “You get one extra just for being my favourite patron.” He winked.

Adeleine laughed loudly but cleared her throat when she saw a man walk in. Dan hadn’t seen him around before but the guy was breathtakingly gorgeous and if the look she was giving Dan was anything to go by, Adeleine agreed. Dan took a calming breath, trying to keep his nerves in check but he almost burst out laughing when she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Anything else?” Dan asked her with an awkward cough.

“No, that’ll be all, sweety,” she said, grabbing the now packaged pastries and handing him the money. “Thank you, see you on Monday!”

“Of course! Send Richard my well wishes,” Dan smiled.

She nodded and made her way to the exit way too slowly for her usual pace. Dan rolled his eyes and snorted, knowing that Adelaine was just trying to have more time to ogle the newcomer.

“Welcome to Sweet Juliet,” Dan said with what he hoped was a warm smile instead of the painful expression he was picturing in his mind. “What would you like to enjoy?”

The man lifted a carefully manicured eyebrow and gave him a sly smile. Dan had never been ashamed of the little phrases he had crafted to make his store special, but he did feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the expression the guy made.

“Hi,” he said, leaning on the pastry display. “I’m new in the area but I’ve heard good reviews. What would you recommend for me?”

Dan felt all moisture leaving his throat as he followed the line of the guy’s neck past the two open buttons of his shirt, briefly catching a glimpse of a rosy nipple. Not that Dan was being a creep or anything, but he was just too beautiful and the way he was standing and his inky black hair and blue eyes and -”

“Dan?” he asked.

“Oh,” Dan blinked repeatedly. He had spaced out for a bit. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s in your tag,” the guy laughed. He actually laughed, as if he hadn’t already thought Dan was a fucking dork for his stupid little greeting.

Dan sputtered at his own stupidity and decided that the safest option was to pretend nothing happened. “Right, anyway… I recommend the mocha latte with the Sweet Juliet Tray. If you like sweets, that will give you a taste of everything.

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled. “When do you get off?”

Dan gasped, his eyes wide as saucers. “What?!”

“From work! Sorry, I’m just -” he laughed, looking a little shy for the first time. “I’m so sorry! Let’s start over, I’m Phil.”

“Alright,” Dan smiled. Realising he was actually the culprit of the misunderstanding, of course, Phil hadn’t been asking about that, but since he took the fault for it, Dan was not going to argue on the matter. He needed to at least pretend to have a brain to impress this guy. “Hi, Phil…”

“Hi, Dan! I’ll take that mocha with the Juliet tray. And if you’d be so kind, I would like your number, Dan.” Phil gave him a half smile, turning the charm on once again but Dan was not going to make it that easy for him.

“Hmm… How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Dan asked, only half joking. The guy was too fucking handsome to be chasing little old Dan, on the other hand, people die every day and who was Dan to refuse such an opportunity. Was there really a better way to go?

“I think people would find me easily,” Phil said, his smile dropping slightly.

Dan wondered about the change in his demeanour but tried to keep the joke rolling. “Are you bad at hiding?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Phil shrugged, his smile entirely vanished now.

“Well, I’ll think about it while you enjoy your mocha, Phil.” Dan said, trying not to sound too bummed about his terrible fail at flirting. How did he even manage to fuck up when he had already been invited to go out on a date?

Phil shook his head, his expression softening. “I should have brought flowers, but how could I’ve ever known I would be meeting you?”

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” Dan commented as he started to prepare the order. Maybe it was best to just let things be. “But I’m afraid you’re coming a bit too strong.”

“Alright, alright,” Phil said, raising his hands. “I’ll just find myself a table for now.”

“Ok, make sure to check our book selection,” he said, but Phil was already scanning the bookcase in search of a title until he gasped, and hurried back to his table with a thick tome in his hands.

Dan cocked his head as he read the title of the book in Phil’s hands: “The Lord of the Rings.” Who hasn’t read the Lord of the Rings and why read it at a coffee shop? He put the mug and plate with pastries on a tray and brought them over to Phil’s table, which was surprisingly tucked away in the darkest corner of the shop. After setting everything down, he turned on the lamp closest to the table to make sure Phil didn’t strain his eyes too much. “Enjoy!”

“Thank you!” Phil said and looked back down to the book, but when Dan stood there awkwardly, he just let out a little sigh and looked into Dan’s eyes. “Yes?” His smile was polite, yet small. It wasn’t as bright as when he’d walked into the store and flirted with him.

“Um… may I ask why did you pick that book?”

“I just never got around to read it and I thought it would be a good idea since I’ve… since I’m around at the moment.”

“How are you planning to finish it?”

Phil shrugged. “Why? Do you burn the books that have been read or something?”

Dan snorted. “No, not at all.”

“Then I will just have to keep coming over to eat sweets and read here… unless that would be a problem for you.”

“That’s why the books are there!” Dan waved him off. “It’s just that other people are also reading the same book so bookmarks tend to be moved and such, it’s a bit annoying unless you remember exactly where you left off.”

“Ah, I see. I guess I’ll have to write it down somewhere.”

“Not in the book, please!” Dan gave him a horrified look.

“What do you take me for? An animal?” Phil asked, with an amused smile.

“You’d be surprised at what people are capable of,” Dan said, sheepishly. “Now I have to watch everyone like a hawk just in case.”

“Will you be watching me then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Think about that date, will you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Dan said as he rolled his eyes and smiled.

And so their little dance began. Phil came to have coffee and eat sweets with the excuse of catching up on his reading but spent at least half of the time watching Dan and giving him little smiles or holding his gaze until Dan began to squirm and blush. He tried his best not to humour Phil, but he couldn’t help the way his smile grew little by little each time Phil came over and asked him out once again.

One fateful Monday afternoon, Dan couldn’t keep his eyes off the door, silently telling himself how pathetic it was that he was desperate to see Phil again, but it seemed that he would not be coming. Two, his usual arrival time, came and went, then three and four, and by five Dan had already lost hope. Maybe Phil had finally had enough of him.

The sound of the bell startled Dan, bringing him back to reality but his expression rapidly morphed into a smile when he saw Phil walking in. The frown on his usually happy and composed face worried Dan but he tried to lighten the mood, joking with Phil, but this time it was like talking to a wall. There was no reciprocity, Phil looked almost on the verge of crying as he got his usual order and lost himself in the Lord of the Rings universe, not even bothering to look up from the book or say goodbye before leaving.

Having decided that maybe rejecting Phil had been a mistake, Dan promised himself that he would give Phil his number next time, or even ask him out himself if it came to it, but after two months since Phil’s last visit, he realised that the opportunity had slipped through his fingers and he had only himself to blame.

---

Dan looked out the window as he mopped the floors, silently hating the raging storm bending the trees over, dragging trash bins across the road… causing his clients to have muddled the floors inside the shop and stayed over for the heater alone.

The door announced someone’s arrival. At first, Dan couldn’t tell who it was but he was also upset that the person walked in with their umbrella still open and dripping everywhere. He was about to make a snarky remark when the umbrella was finally set aside and Phil looked him in the eye with a loaded expression.

“Can I stay here until it stops raining?” he asked, water droplets running down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead just as if he hadn’t even tried to use an umbrella.

“Yeah, of course!” Dan said, feeling a bit awkward but still happy to see Phil after so long.

Phil’s leg bounced way more than necessary as he waited for his order, then Dan handed him a towel, which Phil took with little reluctance. The book, however, he never made any move to grab it back.

“Have you abandoned Riverdale?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I thought it was for the best,” Phil said, understanding the real meaning behind the question.

“I see,” Dan replied, pressing his lips into a line. “I thought we could speak next time.”

“Why? What changed?” Phil asked, giving him an odd look.

“Nothing! We just got to know each other a bit better.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Phil asked.

“Yes, why would I lie?” Dan said, taken aback by whatever accusation Phil was throwing his way.

Phil stood from his seat and came to stand in front of Dan. They were so close Dan could smell his expensive perfume; he inhaled deeply without meaning to and let his eyes fall shut. “Do you know who I am?” Phil pressed.

Dan’s eyes snapped open. “No…? Should I?”

Shaking his head, Phil walked over to the piano and started playing a song that sounded strangely familiar. It was, in fact, one of Dan’s new favourite songs. If he was remembering correctly, the original piece had come out as an instrumental but two weeks after, another version with lyrics was released, it was said to be a collaboration between the pianist and his sister-in-law in honour of the newest member of their family. The pianist in question had teleported to the top of the charts overnight, gotten a record deal, launched an international tour and - apparently - gotten a bunch of stalkerish fans who wouldn’t leave him alone. “Are you… Phil Lester? The guy who made this song? THE Phil Lester?”

“Yes,” said Phil shyly. “I stopped going out much since the song blew up, but this coffee shop served me well to hide from fans several times since I moved to the area, that’s why I kept coming, but my address was leaked a while ago and I had to move away again. Since you had rejected me so many times, I just took it as a sign that we should stop playing games if things are not going anywhere, you know? We’re a bit too old for games anyway.”

“That is true. I should have considered things more carefully,” Dan admitted. “For some reason, I thought we would have more time and things would just flow between us.”

“We ran out of time two months ago, but still, when the storm almost knocked me over, all I could think about was you, how you were doing… and I had to see you, one last time,” Phil said, biting his lip.

Dan’s eyes and heart dropped to the fucking floor, he wanted to kick himself for missing his chance with Phil.

“I had to see if you still made the best sweets around.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Dan laughed and swatted at Phil’s chest. “Is that really the reason or did you just have to show me your “Mr Darcy in the rain” look?” Dan joked.

Phil looked at his reflection in the window and laughed. “I do look kind of hot.”

“Kind of?” Dan scoffed. He walked over to the door and locked it before walking back to Phil and pressing their lips together in a sweet yet brief kiss. “Why don’t you go dry yourself in the bathroom? I’ll make us something nice for dinner.”

“What about dessert?” Phil asked.

“We’ll have plenty of that,” Dan said.

Phil smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yum!”

“I meant the cakes!” Dan laughed, but before he could continue to defend himself Phil pulled him into a heated kiss, though the heat lasted very shortly since Phil was very wet and got Dan entirely soaked as well, resulting in Dan chasing him around the shop with his favourite spatula in search of revenge. It was a good start for the rest of their lives.

#phanfic #phanfiction #mine #phan #succubusphan fics

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btshoseong · 10 months

Text

👣. !!: [BANGTAN BOMB] J-HOPE ‘JACK IN THE BOX’ LISTENING PARTY EVENT SKETCH ‧₊˚

↺ 💌 ࣪ ˖ ∿ author’s note , @ how has it already been just over a week since the last post bro 💀 sorry about that, just got a lotta uni enrolment stuff to get through and it’s been stressing me out <\3 anyways enjoy !!

Members are currently getting ready in the makeup room for Hoseok’s Listening Party.

J-HOPE: *making a noise of approval* “Yahhh… look at my bro! Seong-ah, is this really you?” *coming up to rest his hands on seong’s shoulders as he gets his makeup done*

SE3OUL: “Oh, the star of the show came back here to see me?!” *going in for a high-five and holding his hand, looking at each other through the mirror*

J-HOPE: “Aish, of course I had to come see you,” *dramatic disappointment that seongie doesn’t know this already* “You’re my brother since day one.”

SE3OUL: “Joon-ah, I hope you’re hearing this.” *laughing rn*

RM: *shaking his head* “Traitor of the century. Twelve years of history down the drain.”

J-HOPE: “Yah, you think I’d invite you to this event if you didn’t mean anything to me? He just wants to hear intimate sentiments from me.” *pointing over at joon*

JUNGKOOK: “Hyung, are we all gonna sit down and listen to the music?” *curious wide eyed bunny looking at seokie through the mirror*

J-HOPE: “No, you’ll get it when you see it.” *excited to reveal the surprise soon*

SE3OUL: “Either way Seok-ah is having a dance off with me. Yah, promise me right now.” *holding his pinky up*

J-HOPE: *rolling his eyes with a laugh* “This guy seriously wants to embarrass me at my own party.”

JIMIN: “I think Hoseok hyung has a waaaay higher chance of winning though.” *teasing seongie to the max*

SE3OUL: “And whose side are you supposed to be on, huh?” *playfully narrowing his eyes*

V: *raising his hand* “I will be joining the dance off too. Winner has to buy everyone chicken.”

JIN: *can’t contain the chuckle* “Wait, the winner? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

SE3OUL: “He just has that unique perspective with things.” *nodding as if it weren’t a mistake*

JIN: “Ah, but Seok-ah…” *gaining hobi’s attention immediately* “I feel uncomfortable meeting new people. Do I really have to do the meet-and-greet?”

J-HOPE: “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” *waving it off*

SE3OUL: “Ooo our shy, introverted hyung~ oldest of Bangtan.” *singsongy voice and all*

J-HOPE: “Really, if you don’t want to, then after the event is over, you can just say you enjoyed the music.”

JIMIN: “I’m seriously way more nervous!” *laughing as he pats jin*

JUNGKOOK: *first to finish hair & makeup* “Hyung, how are you gonna say hello?”

J-HOPE: “Me? It’ll be like ‘Hello, I’m J-Hope.’”

J-HOPE: “By the way, Seongie you have to lead us well.”

SE3OUL: *finally finished with hair & makeup also* “Oh me?” *pointing at himself*

JIMIN: *grabbing his finger* “No, he’s going to stay in the bathroom with me all night to keep me company.” *ensue eye smile*

J-HOPE: “No, he has to lead us through. You as well.” *pointing at both of them*

JIMIN: “I’ll jump around a lot.”

SE3OUL: “We’ll do the iconic Black Swan performance with the spin.” *patting jimin with a smile ( p.s for context: seongie takes jk’s place during the black swan mma performance )*

J-HOPE: *smiling and satisfied*

JIMIN: “Okay, let’s go then.” *grabbing both seokie and seongie’s arms*

J-HOPE: “Ah, I wish Yoongi hyung were here too.” *tsking*

SE3OUL: *leaning into the camera* “Everyone, for those of you that don’t know, our Yoongi hyung has a fever. He couldn’t make it.”

JIMIN: “I heard it was around thirty-eight degrees.” *speaking in worried pout*

Soon Hoseok heads to the venue first in order to greet guests.

The rest of the members are still gathered in the makeup room.

JIMIN & SE3OUL: *playing around with jinnie’s outfit*

RM: “Thank you for coming.” *pacing + laughing nervously + practicing what he’s gonna say*

JIN: “Yah, Namjoon-ah, how do you say hi to celebs?”

SE3OUL: “Hyung, do you know what to do? You just go to the celeb right, and say…” *dramatic pause* “Bang to the Tan to the Jin!” *ensue cringey pose here*

RM & JIMIN: *giggling amongst themselves*

JIN: “Aish… who thought bringing this guy here would be a good idea?”

SE3OUL: “I know. Your love for me is so real.” *hand on heart, feeling touched*

After all of the fun and games in the makeup room, the members arrive at the party’s venue before the event officially begins, to look around.

Bang Shi Hyuk is also present so the members pose with him, all holding drinks with a huge smile.

JIMIN & JUNGKOOK: *feeling shy so decided to hide in a corner*

SE3OUL: *can never stray too far from his babies* “Yah, what are you doing? The party’s barely begun.” *caressing jk’s hair + looking at jm*

While the members get into the mood, Hoseok is getting ready to start the event.

J-HOPE: *styling his hair rq* “I’m sweating like crazy.” *begins moving to the groove of the music*

J-HOPE: “After introducing the DJ, I’ll say ‘please enjoy the drinks and enjoy yourselves today.’” *nodding along to what the staff is telling him*

After some time, Hoseok begins to make his way onto the main stage, waving and introducing himself.

J-HOPE: “I wanted to show you that this is the vibe that this guy has, so I invited you all here today. I hope you all enjoy this event. Let’s open the box now. Open the box, let’s go!” *finishing his speech before heading off stage*

All members are endlessly enjoying listening to Hoseok’s new album and vibing with the guests. Hoseong attempts to help his babies introduce themselves and get out of their shells.

Soon the members then reunite at the photo wall. Hoseok hugs everyone tightly one by one as they begin to take individual photos with Hoseok first and then a group one.

SE3OUL: “Go Jeongguk, go Jeongguk, go Jeongguk!” *hyping his baby on the dance floor lmao*

V: *joining in with jk and dancing together*

SE3OUL: *feeling very satisfied as he takes a sip of his drink and joins in as well* “Where’s Jiminie?”

JIMIN: *speak of the devil and he shall appear* “Yah, you all just left me by myself!”

V: *grabbing jimin’s arm and guiding him* “Let loose, Min!”

SE3OUL: “Aye! Aye! Aye!” *dancing in time with the rhythm, making the rest of the boys laugh and ease up*

SE3OUL: “Yah, I think the alcohol is getting to me, dude.” *still jamming tho + encouraging taekook too*

The boys dance for quite a while, enough to leave some of them sweating so they take off for a break. But Hoseong is an undefeated dance machine!

JIMIN: “I can’t believe he’s seriously still going.” *enamoured by his bubba on the dance floor with hobi*

JUNGKOOK: “Hyung’s stamina is really no joke.” *also watching him with jm*

Soon Jin is the first to make his early departure and decides to say goodbye to Hoseok. The members all enjoyed the listening event in their own ways, and those who could, stayed until the very end.

J-HOPE: *sat out in the hallway* “I don’t know how to express how honoured I feel. Lots of people came to congratulate me, and it was such a meaningful moment. It’ll definitely go down as a great part of J-Hope’s music career.”

J-HOPE: “Please look forward to my music. Now that the event is over, there’s a vlive tomorrow and the Lollapalooza performance. There are so many things to do, and so many things to show you, so please stay excited. Thank you!” *peace-ing out*

💬 — HOSEONG’S TAGLIST.

@pandorasword , @ateezsora , @bts-dream , @fairiepoems , @kaitieskidmore97

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monsterfloofs · 1 year

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Hello, could you please write something of a continuation to the reader singing and Thaddeus hears. Where one of the times when he hears them he comes behind them, spins them into his arms and begins to slow dance with them. (Sorry I got the idea when listening ‘Beautiful Tango Hindi Zahra’ and thought of Teddy). Though it’s alright if you can’t, I know the ideas kind of vague but I thought I might try and ask if it does bring any ideas to you. Hope you have a lovely day and thank you regardless!

Thaddeus (Vampire) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw) Singing

Part I ♡ Part II

Haha, I must have really missed Wroughtworth because I dropped about 1.6K in words into this.

(ง｡´꒳`｡ )ง Here you go love, I hope you like it! And I took a look at the song too! It was really pretty, thank you for sharing!

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

In the kitchen you sing to yourself softly. Letting the sink drain the soapy water you had been using to scrub dishes. With your meal made and the dishes left drying on a cloth towel, it was time to settle in and enjoy your lunch. You balance the plate of food in your hand as you exit the kitchen and turn towards the lounge.

You nearly jump as you see Thaddeus resting in his reading chair. He had said his farewells to you, and went upstairs to bed hours ago. You certainly hadn’t expected to see him back downstairs. You studied him curiously, he had an uncanny stillness when he rested. He didn’t move, nor did his chest rise or fall with any breath of air. He wasn’t wearing his monocle, and you didn’t see the silver chain dangling from its usual place. When you first came here and stayed with him, his dozing used to make you uneasy. Which then turned into fascination, the death-like stillness something you were eventually drawn to sketch. Your eyes lingered on his expression, calm with just the briefest hint of a smile.

You bite your lip, gently persuading yourself to walk closer. With your heart beginning to hammer, you lean down and risk giving the smallest kiss upon his cheek. He doesn’t stirr and you shy away, turning around to settle down in the parlor to eat lunch.

While Thaddeus rested, you took a few hours soaking up the candlelight to sit reading before taking a small walk through the city alone. While the sun was up, the grand streets and towering gothic buildings felt like a ghost town. It was deathly empty and all the shops closed. Heavy curtains drawn in front of every window, to smother the light. You found an intricate stone wall that was short enough to sit upon and sketch your surroundings. Choosing to draw one of the houses that had a sprawling garden, with red-violet and white bell shaped flowers.

“I think Teddy said that was datura.” You wondered out loud, “Moonflower.” Your attention turns to make a small sketch of the flora, shading in the trumpet-like blossoms.

There is a small tap on your knee, that makes you look up wide eyed.

Beside you sat a small skeleton bird, it’s beak down turned, as it peers at your artwork before raising their little head to look up at you.

“. . . Pip?” You ask, but the small figure just tilts their head curiously.

“O-okay, not Pip. Where are you from, little guy? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

They coo at you, before reaching into the folds of their cloak and producing a letter. Your eyebrows raise as you take the envelope.

“Oh yeah. . . I forgot you guys delivered mail. . . Uh thanks?”

The skeleton bird sits patiently as you tuck the letter into your sketchbook.

“Do I. . . have something to give you in return?” You ask cautiously, “I think I have something— here.” You dig around at the satchel you brought with you. Pulling out a small packet of cookies.

Tiny spindly hands eagerly reach out to receive the packet.

“Don’t eat those all at once,” You warned, “That’s a lot for a little guy.”

They hug the package to themselves and jump down from the wall. Just as their little feet touch the ground, they meld seamlessly into the ground like a dark shadow. Zipping away across the cobblestone path.

You rub the back of your neck, despite the birds not being able to communicate in a spoken language. Thaddeus has pressed the importance that the shadowy bird folk that lived in the city were extremely intelligent and should be treated kindly. They were the eyes and ears of the city. You just hoped you did the right thing and there wouldn’t be someone irritated at you for giving one of them sweets.

With that, you concluded your city adventure, packing up your supplies and heading back home, just as the sun started sinking below the horizon.

“Darling!~ I found something you might like!”

You were taking your shoes off in the hallway, looking for where Teddy’s voice was coming from. You peek into the lounge.

“I haven’t used it in a few years,” Teddy pat’s his hand on the top of a fluted brass trumpet. A gramophone. It looked very old but well preserved. The box composed of dark mahogany wood and elegantly carved, with a hand crank coming out the back.

“Whoa?!” You have one of those?” You enter the lounge, crouching beside the box, to get a look at the intricately carved wood. “I can’t believe this was buried in your stuff,”

Teddy’s eyes glitter, “A little birdy told me you adore music.”

You laugh, “Pip wouldn’t squeal on me! He loves me!”

You laugh even louder as Pip appears, popping up from underneath a pillow and hurrying over to you. You wrap your arms around the small skeletal creature, as they scramble up into your arms enthusiastically nuzzling you.

Thaddeus chuckles and shakes his head at the two of you.

“Give me a little room, will you dear? Let us see if this old gal will play.”

You stand, carrying Pip with you, as he settles up onto your shoulder, feathery cloak falling down upon your back.

“How loud do these things get?” You ask,

“Oh, this one? It is very loud. It’s why I haven’t used it often,” Thaddeus replied, “A few of my neighbors threatened to stake me.”

“Teddy!” You laugh incredulously as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. His fingers close around the hand crank, and you wince as the crank grinds and squeaks as it turns around. You can see that he is also making a bit of a face himself. Scrunching up his nose and closing one of his eyes as turns the crank around and around. He gives a small sigh of relief as he releases his grip on the crank around five turns. Taking a disc out from a wooden box that was laying on the coffee table. He settles the record onto the plate of the gramophone, taking a moment to make sure it is aligned properly. Then, carefully flipping the needle down to rest on top of the record.

At first you hear a crackling, popping sound of static, before the music filters out of the large brass trumpet. You smile, as an orchestral waltz fills the room.

“You’re right!” You call over the sound, “It’s pretty loud!”

“It was meant to fill a ballroom after all,” You hear Teddy echo back to you. “Come now! To the parlor before we destroy our eardrums!”

He holds his hand out to you, and your fingers lace with his. You feel your face warming and you look away shyly as the two of you move away to the lounge. You smile to yourself, softly humming along to the sound.

Once you reach the parlor, Teddy spins you around on your heels.

“A-ah!” You squeak as you land in his arms, your hands flying out to grip his jacket.

“May I have this dance?” He purrs, his voice in a playful tone that causes gooseflesh to rise along your arms.

“I-I,” You stammer, “I don’t know how to waltz.” Your eyes dart around, unable to look into his eyes.

A murmur of laughter fills his throat, “Well, would you like to learn?” A low whisper, a strange sensual tone lingering in his voice.

“I-I Y-yes?” You stutter, the answer sounding more like a question than an answer. Your eyes finally raise to look at him, as he steadies you back onto your feet. You let him position your arms, one hand on his shoulder and the other held in his hand.

As you are guided through the steps, more than once you step on his foot. Apologizing profusely in a panic as he laughs.

“It’s alright! Truly!”

You flinch, “Really— I’m sorry, I’m no good at th—“

Your voice cuts short as he leans to press his lips to yours. Time stopping dead in its tracks. Thaddeus turns his head, just enough to nuzzle your nose sweetly before pulling back.

“I’m having fun dear, as long as you are having fun, that is all I care about. Of course you won’t be successful at something as soon as you try it. That is. . .” He closes his eyes for a moment, cheeks flushing. Petting your lips gently with his thumb.

“That is a luxury that only a few have.”

Your hand raises from his shoulder to cup his cheek. He leans into your hand, one eye fluttering open as he smiles at you.

“I think, you’re the luxury,” You muse, and that smile turns into a wide impish grin.

“Oh, are we deciding to turn the tables now? I start to swoon and you take your chance to see what color my face makes?” He teases, as you squeak and press your face into hands in sudden embarrassment.

“D-don’t tease!!” You splutter, a gasp leaves your throat that turns into raucous laughter as he once again sweeps you off your feet. Peppering kisses along your cheek and throat as you wriggle within his grasp.

Your chest rising and falling as he stops his shenanigans to give you a chance to breath.

“You know,” He murmurs lovingly against your ear, “I have always been so worried to take the leap and kiss you. . . until today.”

You look up at him, feeling a new flood of warmth take over your face.

“You-you- were awake when I—“

He giggles, “Not exactly, your heartbeat made me stirr, why, it was pounding so fast I was worried something was wrong.”

You give a wheeze of laughter, burying your face into his shoulder.

“Hhhhhhh th-that’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” He hums lovingly, “It was completely and utterly precious <3”

#monster x reader #monster x human #exophilia #floofyocs #sfw #vampire x human #vampire x reader #gn reader

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