#and he was like yeah! for my art! are you??

[heartcereql]

heaven is a place on earth with you

art donaldson x fem!reader || soft moments in your fresh new home

cw: smoking, minor cursing, no use of y/n (1240 words) a/n: writing about my sweet baby art during finals bc why not

you swore you could have stayed like this forever. tangled in silky bedsheets, soft rays of light that tingled on your face, body pressed against art's. one of those moments you wished you could pause and settle in for an eternity.

the mattress was on the floor, and cardboard boxed were scattered all around your apartment. your apartment. it felt blissful to say it. a life awaited you there, between the beige and baby blue walls that screamed for another hand of paint. it was far from the ideal, but it was perfect because it was yours. art's and your world. didn't it sound so pretty?

you looked over at him. eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his head a blond mess of curls and his skin warm despite the moring breeze that slipped inside the room through the opened balcony. art looked otherworldly. he always did, in your eyes. and you felt like the luckiest woman on earth with him, because he looked at you, because he touched you, because he loved you. because he felt for you what you felt with him.

and you two were fucking living together. the thought was enough to bloom a grin on your lips. a pure, joyful smile that made you want to jump and dance all around. pressing a feather-like kiss to his temple, you sat up, careful to untangle yourself from his arms and slinging over one of his standford t-shirts.

you reached over to your bedside table- well, the brown leather suitcase on which you had left some stuff. a provisional nightstand, let's leave it at that. you took a cigarette out of the box, holding it between your lips as you grabbed the lighter and your sketchbook and pencil.

the cool air of the early morning greeted you as you stepped out onto the balcony, goosebumps appearing all over your skin. you lit the cigarette with the pink lighter art had gifted you on your fourth date, all that time ago, when you mentioned you kept losing all your lighters. it was safe to say you'd kept this one. it had fake rhinestones forming your initial on one side. you recalled thanking art with a very excited hug and an even more excited peck.

"you made it?" you had ask him, the glint in your big eyes almost matching the glimmer of the rhinestones under the streetlamp. when art nodded, you gushed, hugging him again. "it's beautiful, art, i love it."

"i'm so glad," he smiled. you looked ethereal, all the eagerness painted on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold, babbling about how sweet you found it.

"hey, do you have any more rhinestones left?" you asked.

"yeah, yeah, here," he handed you the stickers, watching you start putting some more on the other side of the lighter. "what are you-"

but he was shut as he guessed the shape of his own initial, a very shimmering 'A'. once finished, you showed it to him proudly.

you both broke into laughter, cheeks flushed and hurting from the smiles, but it didn't matter. not when you felt so safe around him. and certainly not when he pulled you in for a kiss.

taking another drag of the cigarette, you traced your fingertips against the initials on the lighter. call it luck or fate or whatever, but none of the rhinestones had ever unstuck from where you both had originally placed them.

you sat on the beach chair that you'd placed on the balcony last night, before getting trapped between art's arms and lips, and getting lost in him. tipping the ashes off of the end of the cigarette, you opened the sketchbook. it was actually another of art's little thoughtful gifts that he loved to give you, and you loved to receive.

on the first page of it was a sweet little dedication art had written.

'for my angel girl, so you can be an artist and carry me always with you (get it? because i'm ART and you're an ARTist? so funny, i know.) love you forever baby <3'

it always made you smile when you read it, and reach over to kiss him for no apparent reason, leaving him a curious, flushed mess.

on the page you were currently at, there were some seashell doodles from your last trip to the beach. art had picked them out for you, and peered through the whole process with his head resting on your shoulder. beneath the collection of seashells was a watercolor drawing of art's beautiful, dual colored eyes, and a little sketch of a couple of figs.

looking over, your eyes settled on the pastel colored laundry your neighbors in front had hanging and swaying lightly with the dawning breeze.

your traces were fast but precise. soon, the laundry was replicated under your pencil. shirts and pants and socks and even a bra. the cigarette dangled from your lip, forgotten amidst your concentration.

you were so absorbed in drawing little daisies on the socks you didn't hear the sheets rustling as art stirred awake, or his soft footsteps as he approached you. thus, when you heard his voice, you were startled for a second.

"hey, artist."

you turned to him, eyes big. the movement was so sudden the cigarette fell to the floor.

"hey, art," you smiled, setting down the sketchbook and pencil and standing up to greet him.

his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you in for a kiss. you nuzzled your head onto the warmth of his chest, running your hands on his back.

"morning," you looked up to him. art smiled. god, that smile. it drove you crazy, made you weak at the knees. your soft fingertips drove up to trace his smile lines, trailing down to his jaw in no time.

he tucked some strand of hair behind your ears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "were you drawing?" art asked, spinning you around so you both faced the view, his arms around your waist.

the sky was not fully blue yet; pink and purple hues shining over the horizon.

"mhm," you hummed. "i want to colour it later, will you help me?"

"of course, baby," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your cheek.

it was something silly you two did sometimes. after pouring you both some coffee (you made it for art the way he liked, as he prepared yours as he'd learnt from several coffee dates), you'd pull out some colour pencils or sharpies and paint the little doodles you had drawn.

"hey," art whispered. "we live together."

you smiled. "yeah, we do. it's perfect."

art huffed at that. "the walls are on the verge of falling apart. and the people from the bar downstairs were noisy as fuck. and the shower-"

"shut up," you playfully hit his arm, rolling around again to face him once more. "it's you and i. sounds perfect to me."

he gifted you another smile. "you're right. it's ours. that's more than enough."

was this your own personal heaven? you found yourself thinking that often, as you got lost in his always tender eyes, or the sound of your laughters together, or the tingles he left on your skin, or the way you loved each other. as he lifted you up and carried you inside for your first breakfast at your place, you were sure of the answer. yeah, of fucking course it was.

© heartcereql, 2024 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[artdcnaldson]

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) TEASER 💖

coming relatively soon :) teaser WC: 1.1k

“Haechan.” 

“Mhm?”

“Can you walk faster, please? I’m not trying to lose a whole person in the Met.” you complain, stopping in your tracks and turning around to let Haechan catch up to you. The section you’re passing through is packed, the room filled with the din of various animated conversations all overlapping one another.

“Sorry, I’m just taking in all the art in front of me,” he replies, and your expression softens as you remember that this is, in fact, a museum exhibit you’re standing in and not merely a hallway to where you want to go.

“Yeah, the paintings are beautiful,” you agree, and he looks over at you with a confused look.

“Oh—yeah, the paintings are cool, too.” he answers unconvincingly, and you stare at him expressionlessly.

“What were you looking at if not the paintings?” you ask, confused, and he looks you up and down pointedly as if to answer your question. “You’re ridiculous,” you groan, turning to walk away.

“Oh, come on, you can’t blame me! You in that outfit is a goddamn masterpiece.” he defends himself, and you just sigh loudly as you keep walking. 

“Keep up!” you quip, and he catches up to you, leaning down slightly so his lips are by your ear.

“Don’t even get me started on this cute little skirt you’ve got on,” he murmurs suggestively, and an involuntary shudder travels down your spine from the ticklish sensation of his breath on the hair on the back of your neck. “Kinda driving me crazy,” he half-mumbles, half-chuckles.

“It can’t be that hard to drive you crazy,” you point out. “You already live on the corner of Bonkers Boulevard and Delulu Drive.”

“Wow, and you call me a menace?” he snorts in amusement, reaching over to pinch your side in retaliation and laughing when you dance away with a giggle. “Come back, I thought we had to stick together,” he complains.

You roll your eyes but stop just ahead of him, hands placed on your hips as you wait for him to catch up. 

“That’s better,” he finally says when he’s beside you once more. “You know, maybe we should hold hands.” he suggests, smiling wider and nodding vigorously in an attempt to convince you when you look over at him with a “no” already on the tip of your tongue.

“And why would we do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in a patronizing act of confusion.

“It’s crowded. What if someone walks between us and you turn to enter an exhibit but I don’t see where you went?” He frowns petulantly, and you scoff dismissively. 

“You can hold my purse,” you offer, holding it out to him.

“How is that gonna help me stay close to you?” he asks with a frown, and you shoot him a look.

“It’ll help me stay close to you,” you clarify. “All my stuff is in there, so I’m not going anywhere that bag’s not going.”

“Hm. I’d rather hold your hand but I guess this will do.” he sighs dramatically, and you snicker.

“Keep wishing.” you reply casually.

“Oh, I will. Got any loose eyelashes I can wish on and blow away?” 

“No.”

“Lucky pennies?”

“I don’t have change. Does the universe take Apple Pay?” you reply in a bored tone, and he snorts loudly in amusement.

“Man, gorgeous and funny,” he sighs contentedly, and it’s your turn to exhale in amusement. “Fine. I’ll wait until 11:11 to make the wish.”

“You know that because you told me what you’re gonna wish for, it’s not gonna come true now, right?” you remind him with a teasing smile, and his eyes widen comically.

“I’ll wish for something different.” he relents, and you can’t help but frown slightly at the crestfallen look on his face. You look around to see if anyone you know is nearby and, seeing no one, let out a defeated yet amused sigh before reaching out and linking your fingers with his. “I knew you liked me,” he remarks with an air of smug satisfaction, and you scowl at him before ripping your fingers from his. 

“...And you’re done.”

“Nope, too late,” he replies with a wide grin as he links his fingers with yours again, either oblivious to the fight you’re putting up or simply unfazed. “We’re locked in now.” he teases, and you raise your brows in a silent challenge. 

“Oh, yeah? Should I call you something cutesy like—oh,” you say, stopping mid-sentence and turning to look at him with a slowly growing mischievous smile. “What was that name Winter called you on the way here?”

“Oh, please don’t.” 

“Was it Snookums?” you think aloud, and he groans, tossing his head back dramatically.

“Please?”

“Cuddlebug?”

“No—”

“Oh!” you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “Pookie Bear.” you say triumphantly, and the grimace on his face is beyond rewarding.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Haechan says hurriedly. “In fact, I’d rather you not—”

“But I love calling you Pookie Bear, Pookie Bear.” you coo affectionately, putting extra emphasis on the embarrassing pet name to leave it dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“You know what’s kind of crazy?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Besides you? No.”

“Ha, ha.” he drawls. “What’s crazy is that it’s kinda hot the way you say it.” he points out, and you whine loudly in protest. 

“I can’t have anything, man! I get to torment you back for less than two minutes, and your freaky little self likes it?” you gripe under your breath as you pull him towards the large sign indicating the doorway to the beginning of the Greek sculptures exhibit. “We’re here!” you announce happily.

“Anything I should know before we enter this section?” he asks curiously, and you think for a moment before nodding.

“Most, if not all, of these statues have micropenises.” you warn him, and roll your eyes instantly at the immediate amusement on his face. “Keep the dick jokes to a minimum.”

“You got it, princess.” he agrees, nodding cooperatively, and you whirl around to look at him.

“Princess?!”

“You call me Pookie Bear, I call you princess.” he says with a nonchalant shrug, and you narrow your eyes at him in a silent staredown. “It’ll grow on you,” he says confidently as he starts walking into the exhibit.

And as you’re tugged along after him, protesting all the while that “it most certainly will not,” you can’t help but feel like it already has—that is, if the sensation you’re feeling of a lone butterfly fluttering around your stomach has anything to do with it.

[gwilymz]

Reader making out with Tashi after she wins a game at Stanford. And Art and Patrick are jealous!

Oh my god yes...

Patrick and Art are obsessed with you two. You're not on the women's tennis team at Stanford, but you and Tashi had been assigned as random roommates freshman year and had been inseparable since. You came to all of her matches; you were the first person she ran to after a big win, pressing a big kiss against your cheek and spinning you around, high on adrenaline.

Patrick and Art had fantasies about the two of you. Of course, as the two best players on the men's tennis team, you both knew of them. But neither of you had paid much attention to them. They were exceptionally popular and well-liked, and every girl (and mom) within a 100-mile radius of Stanford University knew and admired the two of them. Fire and ice.

They would talk about the two of you late at night as they stared at the ceiling, watching the fan go around and around until they were dizzy and drunk off PBRs.

"I think they are just really close. Girls are like that." Art said, sitting up to rest on his elbows. They had a match the next morning at UC Berkeley; the team was staying at a hotel close to the campus.

"Yeah, maybe." Patrick sighed. "I would do anything for them."

"I don't know who wouldn't."

Patrick sat up quickly. "Do you think she is here?"

"Well," Art responded, his mouth full of cool ranch Doritos. "Given Tashi is on the team, I would say yes."

Patrick threw a pillow at his friend from his side of the room. "No, dipshit. Like, I think Y/N comes with Tashi sometimes on these trips. 'Cause she never misses a match."

"Okay asshole." Art rolled his eyes. "I don't obsess over every move they make like you do."

"Bullshit."

"What is your point?" Art changed the subject, confused at where Patrick's mind was headed. He figured somewhere perverted.

"I mean," Maybe it was the five beers in Patrick's quite empty stomach that was giving him this idea. This confidence. He was usually good at girls, but he couldn't get himself to talk to the two of you--especially not sober. "Maybe we could find their room. And maybe we could hang out with them."

Art lit a cigarette, his second of the night. "We have never spoken more than 5 consecutive words to them. What makes you think that would ever work out?"

"Can you not be a pussy for just tonight?" Patrick got up, pulling his linen button down on. He grabbed Art's cigarette from between his lips and took a hit. "Or be a pussy, and I'll just go by myself."

Art stood up quickly. "I'll go." He stole his cigarette back, ashing it into the trash bin haphazardly placed between their beds. "But how do we know what room they are in?"

They knew the girls' team was staying on the floor above them. And they knocked on every door until you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"What are you guys doing here?" You yawned, whispering to not awake Tashi, who was sleeping soundly on the side of the bed closest to the alarm clock, which read 2:15 AM. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Art looked embarrassed; he was red in the face. But Patrick leaned into the room, looking down at you in a shirt he recognized as Tashi's and little sleeping shorts that made his breath hitch.

"We wanted to see if you guys wanted to hang out." Patrick raised his eyebrows and looked over to Art, who nodded.

"We can't sleep. We were thinking it would be cool to get to know you guys better, I guess."

"You mean Tashi?" You whispered. "She's sleeping, you know."

"No," Patrick shook his head. "Both of you."

Tashi stirred awake. She was wearing a black tank top and similar sleeping shorts as you were. "What's goin' on?" She slurred.

"Patrick and Art are here."

"Why?" Tashi, sat up; her hair was in a neat braid. "It's late."

"They have beer, and they want to hang out." You were half making fun of them, how they looked so nervous.

"We can't sleep." Art repeated.

"Sure, come in." You didn't know if Tashi meant it. She was delirious when she was tired. But you allowed them inside, curious about their intentions.

Obviously, they were attractive. They were also exceptionally talented. But you and Tashi were content in your own little bubble, eating gummy bears and potato chips in bed and laughing at inside jokes from 3 years before.

You sat on the bed, next to Tashi. The boys sat on the carpet, looking up at the two of you.

"So," You said, hugging a pillow to your chest. Tashi rested her head on your shoulder. "Did you come here hoping to fuck us or?"

"Wha-"

"No," They responded, simultaneously. But their cheeks changing from peach to crimson told you and Tashi otherwise.

"We are just interested in getting to know you both."

Tashi scoffed. "Oh, Y/N, they are interested in getting to know us."

You laughed, throwing your head back.

You and Tashi noticed the dynamic you had created, completely on accident. She and you on the bed, them below you. Their eyes were glassy and lips parted, and you knew if you told them both to jump out the fifth story window, they would do it before they knew what exactly they were doing. You looked at each other and licked your lips.

"So if we offered to fuck you guys, you would say no?" You asked, furrowing your brows together.

"No, no, I wouldn't say that," Patrick scooted forward, hugging his knees. He looked vulnerable and small. "I can't speak for Art, but I-"

"I wouldn't say that either." Art said bluntly.

"Y/N," Tashi said, pushing your hair behind your ears. You were facing each other on the bed now; the boys were blurry in your peripheral vision. "How do you think they would kiss us?"

Patrick and Art swallowed.

You thought. "Hmm," You answered. "I bet it would be desperate."

"I think so too," Tashi leaned in, her lips brushing yours. "Probably pretty sloppy."

She kissed you, tangling her hands into your hair. You cupped your face, pulling her even closer than she already was. Your mouths opened against each other's, exchanging spit and each other's hungry moans. You pulled her braid to expose her neck, and kissed down the column of her throat, climbing on top of her. You and her had never done this before; of course, there existed the inevitable rumors, but they were untrue--until now.

"Holy fuck." Patrick was the first to break the silence; you and Tashi grinding against each other as Tashi's hands kneaded your ass.

Patrick's hand grazed the bed, a move made in an attempt to join.

"Uh uh uh." You tsked. "No touching."

Tashi flipped you around so she was on top now. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. You whimpered as her spit fell onto your tongue. Tashi pushed your--her--shirt up, palming your tits.

"Can we-" Art began.

"Can you what?" You and Tashi asked simultaneously, pulling away from each other. A string of your mixed saliva connected the two of you for just a second longer.

The boys rolled their heads back and moaned.

"Can we join you?" You could see their boners, prominent in their sweatpants. Beads of sweat dribbled between their collarbones and over their brows.

"God, you guys sound pathetic." Tashi laughed. "What do you think, Y/N?"

You pretended to think. "Well, I guess it's only fair." You began. You saw the boys' ears perk up like they were hungry little puppies, their lips bitten from lust. "That you guys show each other a little love and appreciation."

[saetoshis]

Listen. Yes Hoshina is a short king. But consider. . . If he's short he's probably feeling like he's got smth to prove. Excited to bend his partner over and deill them like they insulted him. Plus then he might hit you with the 'princess' or smth of the like. Putting youbin a verbal place of power (as the taller person) while he's still doming thr fuck out of you. "How'd you let this happen, princess? Letting someone like me see this weak side of you? Were you just careless? Overly trusting? Or perhaps you underestimated me. I suppose I'll have to punish you for that." Type beat.

Anway love our beloved Hoshi thanks as always for your tasty art!

HELPME UR SO RIGHT ... NOW IM THINKING LIKE ... WHAT IF U TEASED HIM FOR BEING A LIL SHORT N THEN .. YK ...

taller!fem reader [5'7"+ 172cm+], oral m. receiving, size kink [sorta?], teasing, pet name [ princess], fingering, squirting, MDNI.

you, who got all-too-cocky because your eyes are just a bit higher in line with his, made a mistake.

vice captain hoshina is nothing if not an enigma. his silly demeanor and playful attitude about everything makes him seem so non-threatening, that you might've gotten too comfortable with teasing him and acting high and mighty. whenever he tells you what to do, maybe you'll make a little gesture with your hand above his head, reminding him who has more "power." these jokes were your mistake.

maybe he'll want to punish you - watch you kneel in front of him, his hand on your pretty head as he guides you towards the bulge in his pants. maybe he'll hum out a little, "since you wanna poke fun at height, how 'bout you try being the short one for once?"

maybe hoshina will lean back and watch you unzip his pants, taking no time to push your mouth onto his eager cock. he might even rut his hips a little, muttering out between breathy 'fuck's, "not so big now, huh? how does it feel, hm? didn't think i'd be big down there, did you?"

hoshina watches so closely as you bob your head and pump your hand, thighs keening together where you're sat all prettily on the floor. a little smirk might even tug at his lips as he realizes just how turned on you're getting from this. "what, getting all hot and bothered by this? didn't think someone shorter than you could get you all worked up? you know better, don't you?"

his words send a jolt straight through your frame and you can't help but shudder, and all of a sudden the vice captain seems so much more intimidating, even more enticing than you ever thought. it's like he can sense you losing yourself in the moment, and he's got you right where he wants you.

hoshina leans down, flashing you a smug sneer as he lifts your face to look up at him - all the while admiring the pretty sheen of your lips and your glassy eyes. "is that what i think it is? is the princess who's always mocking my height suddenly unable to resist me? the irony... how should i deal with you, hm?"

he maneuvers you to bend over against the counter, chest pressed against the cool granite as he lets his thumb drag along your clothed pussy. one hand presses your back, the other languidly slipping off your shorts and panties as he hums, "oh, what's that? a wet spot, hm? not so cocky now, aren't you?"

it takes a lot of strength to even muster thoughts, your head spinning from how lewd he's acting - it's bafflingly hot. you pant against the counter as you look back, watching his eyes flit over your hips while his finger does the same against your clit. hoshina lets out a little laugh when he watches you shudder along with a strained whine.

"feels good, doesn't it? does being put in your place turn you on? yeah?" hoshina sneers and lets out a little chuckle, swiftly slipping his fingers between your walls and curling forwards. he can't help but wear a smirk on his face as he enjoys your willing submission. "let me remind you that i'm the vice captain of the third division. the strongest second to mina. forgot that, did you?"

his sheer strength shows in each intense flick and curl of his fingers against the spot that makes your spine shudder, and it's humbling. it's when he starts simultaneously toying with your clit that you feel like you're on fire, a buzz building up between your thighs just begging for release.

"that's it... yeah, let it out. show me just how much you like it. cum all over my hand, bet you'll never act cocky again," hoshina leers under his breath, ministrations going into overdrive as you shiver and whimper shamelessly. with a voice-cracking whine, his name falls from your lips over and over as flicks of liquid smother his hand from his unrelenting movements.

"ahh, of course you squirt on top of everything..." hoshina leans over the counter to admire the dizzied expression on your face with a little grin of his own. his fingers nudge your chin as he murmurs, "felt good? yeah? you gonna be good now? don't wanna hear you trying to humble me ever again after you left such a mess all over me."

he presses a little kiss on your cheek, smirking against your skin before he shifts to your ear. with a low whisper, he mutters, "unless you wanna have me fuck you in that suit... 92% isn't a joke, you know?"

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[masonsystem]

cuz at first ajaa wasnt even meant to exist it was just meant to be the trilogy and thats it, then while theyre porting it over to the nintendo ds capcom gives them the green light to go nuts with a bonus pseudo-dlc case and By God Do They, making the longest case yet of RFTA with fully animated 3d cutscenes + an incredibly convoluted plot that makes the most out of aa1's 3 day trial system + fully modelled 3d rotational evidence, hitting heavy themes of police corruption and evidence forgery and whatnot like they went INSANE, cuz this was supposed to be IT. this was supposed to be ace attorneys big finale and farewell but SIKE oh my god the actual Ministry Of Justice has knocked on capcoms door and told them hey can you make some propaganda for us. so now the aa team has to make propaganda for them. right after burning themselves the fuck out from creating rfta. all that time spent on rfta which couldve been development time for ajaa.... too late. cant be taken back. apollo justice is designed in less than a week and theyre marketing this game while the team is still making it, takumi crazed madman that he is decides to not rely on old characters which while that is an artistic slay, sets up the stage for a marketing failure, and a new artistic team of infinite ambition goes nuts with creating derangedly detailed animations

⬆️ like oh my god are you insane. thank you so much BUT ARE YOU INSANE? all while still making 3d renders of evidence and random 3d animations and it looks so awesome BUT THERES NOT ENOUGH TIME, 3 wonderful cases are made but 4-4 falls on its face. 6 hours long instead of the usual 10 and only one cross-examination in the final trial and 2 whole main characters with no backstory like its bad. its going to be bad. but its too late. the most incomplete ace attorney game has to be rushed out of the gates and the sales are made But The Reception Is Bad. Real Bad. 2000s hater gamer crowds were the first of its kind, being massively fuelled by the internet, haters back then could sink their teeth deep into a company, which is what got nintendo scrambling away from their wind waker art direction to appease the gamers w twilight princess. so similarly when the hate for ajaa came on, cuz whattt phoenix disbarred and no 😤 old characters 😤😤, capcom scrambled to appease the masses. but oh oh whats this? takumi says 'yeahhhh Nah' and says he wants to make a game about his dog. OK. cant persuade him away from that. might as well let some new blood handle the franchise in takumi's place then, but for The Love Of God do not make an ajaa followup. the gamers will kill us. and so the aai duology was born....... cool........ first one's reception was so bad that localization plans were dropped entirely for the sequel. wow. takumi is fresh off from ghost trick but fucking what, 5 years has passed now, and the new hot console is the nintendo THREE ds. 3ds. wowwww. fucking... PROFESSOR LAYTON kidnaps takumi to make plvpwaa and ajaa continues to be left in the dust. fucking nobody wants him. poor orphaned kitten left in the street. all while the trilogy gets 9584948 million adaptations. and yamazaki twiddles his thumbs thinking abt making aai3 but after thinking it over hes like yeah ill try making aa5. capcom lets him and.......... its over........ they tell him sure go for it But Do Not Follow Up On Apollo Everyone Hates Him please make phoenix the protag. a recipe for disaster. and a disaster aa5 is. juggling THREE protags a complete mess and they do a popularity poll and wow would u look at who came first, fucking APOLLO. JUSTICEEEEEEE. its almost like.... gamers opinions..... are not valuable in the long run.. and popular opinion has never signified artistic understanding.... aa6 comes chugging along and yamazaki addicted to racism cranks out something even worse. both aa56 makes the sales it needs but mindless fanservice can only get u so far... its been nearly 10 years since the ajaa 'trilogy' titles released and the general consensus is that Aaja Was Good and aa56 Not So Much but what can you do now? heres the apollo justice trilogy please buy it and deeply lower ur expectations for coherent and cohesive narratives which have basis in reality thank u. bc u will not be finding that here. ajaa never stood a chance.. they werent doomed by the narrative. its worse. they were doomed by STUPID FUCKING GAMERS AND STUPID EXECUTIVE DECISIONS 😭😭😭

[randomfoggytiger]

The Evolution of Gillian Anderson's Friendship with David Duchovny

Early friendship:

He was an experienced actor when they started The X Files, she had been receiving unemployment benefit and had been in front of cameras only once before.

And she admits: "I desperately needed someone to show me the ropes and David did. He was wonderful."

There were rumours of a secret romance, which would have got them both fired on the spot. It is a strict studio rule that there will be no intimacy between the stars - off screen as well as on.

But Gillian did find love on The X Files, in the shape of assistant art director Clyde Klotz. And she did turn to Duchovny for advice after acting spontaneously on her wedding night, taking no precautions and finding herself pregnant.

She was horrified, believing she would get herself fired and ruin her career.

[“I went into his trailer,” she recalls, “and I said, ‘David, I’m pregnant.’ It looked like his knees buckled.... And he asked me if it was a good thing. I said, ‘Yeah, it is.’]

But her co-star, who was the only person she confided in apart from her husband, put Gillian's mind at ease.

He advised her not to have an abortion - that things would work out. And they did.

He kept her secret while Gillian thought things over for a month.

1995:

David Duchovny is not happy.....

Anderson, sensing Duchovny’s mood, looks down at his hand on her left shoulder and tries to brush it away, as if it were a mosquito. Then she turns and jumps into his arms, laughing, looking like a little girl making trouble for a protective older brother. Startled to be holding her, the smile on Duchovny’s face is forced no longer.

...“We really trust each other,” Duchovny says simply.

There is, between these two, a real-life camaraderie born of necessity, a friendship strong enough to survive too many work hours, and a chemistry powerful enough to rearrange the atoms on-screen. “Whenever we’re acting together,” says Anderson, “it’s there.”

1997:

But in real life, Duchovny and Anderson have a relationship as much a conundrum to outsiders as any X-File.

“We have a relationship that is completely odd and fabricated,” Duchovny says. “We’ve been thrown together, two people who don’t know each other, and we’ve been forced to spend more time together than married people do. So you can’t describe our relationship as ‘like’ or ‘dislike.’ ”

Sounds a little frosty.

“It is frosty,” Gillian Anderson agrees when she is read Duchovny’s description of their relationship. “But it’s accurate.” She laughs. “It’s not that we don’t like each other. It’s complicated.”

2008:

Question: Can you talk about getting back into these characters after a five or six year period?

David Duchovny: The first two weeks I felt a little awkward and I didn’t really feel like I wanted to do longer scenes. I was just fine running around. Then as soon as Gillian and I started working and it was Mulder and Scully, then I kind of remembered what it was all about and that relationship kind of anchored my performance just as I think the relationship anchors this film.

Shock: What’s that like with David now that you’re not with each other 16 hours a day on a series?

Anderson: It’s great, but it was great then, too. This is like a sibling relationship and I never had siblings.

What is your favourite thing about each other?

Duchovny: Gillian just doesn't give up.... She'll hang in there 'til we get it right.

Anderson: ...The easiest answer, I guess, is his sense of humour. He's always looking at the funny side of things, especially when he's around other actors who are comedians or funny themselves - it can turn into a bit of a contest to see who does the best impressions and such. But aside from that, there's a gentleness inside him that comes out every once in a while that is quite disarming and lovely. It's rare, but very nice.

2014:

Q: Was there a sense of almost a bunker mentality where you were at least going through this process with David? You mentioned he had more experience, he had done some bigger films but still the phenomenon that emerged within the first couple years was pretty remarkable. Did it help to have him there too and kind of like “Are you getting this too? Are you going through this too? Is this weird?” 

A: No. No, not really. We talk about the fact that it’s crazy that we didn’t. And that we didn’t take advantage of the fact that we had each other but it was complicated. These were long hours that we were working. We spent more time in each other’s presence than we did with our, you know, spouses and children, etc.

But also, you know, I think we pissed each other off, quite frankly. And I have no doubt that after they’re waiting – we’re gonna roll and somebody has to come in and redo my lips and the difference between the maintenance for guys and gals and we’re shooting in all weather – you know, we never shut down except for one day for weather in the entire show.  We were shooting up in Vancouver through rain, sleet, everything. And my hair would frizz up to here in between takes and they’d have to get the blow dryer out under the tent and we’d be waiting for Gillian’s hair to do another take. You know, that pisses you right off. It adds up. So I, you know, I’m sure there were plenty of things he did that pissed me off too. It just wasn’t, you know, but on the other hand.. NOW, we get to talk about that and we’re probably closer than we’ve ever been. 

2015:

Not surprisingly, she and Duchovny also became the story – according to the press, they were having an affair, hated each other or both. “I mean, yes, there were definitely periods when we hated each other.” She starts again. “Hate is too strong a word. We didn’t talk for long periods of time. It was intense, and we were both pains in the arse for the other at various times.”

How was Duchovny a pain in the arse for her? “Erm ...” Ten seconds pass without a word. Meanwhile, her smile gets wider and wider till it’s halfway up her cheeks. “I’m not going to get into it. I’m not even going to begin to get into that. But we are closer today than we ever have been.”

2016:

Anderson on working with Duchovny “Our relationship has definitely become a proper friendship over the last few years. I think we’re more on each other’s side. We’re more aware of the other’s needs, wants, concerns, and mindful to take those into consideration— and just sharing more about our experiences in the moment, under the sudden realization that we’re both in this together, and wouldn’t it be nice if it were a collaboration?”

2018:

They've worked together for 25 years but Gillian Anderson wants to make one thing clear: David Duchovny does NOT feature in her Ex Files.

While on screen their relationship left viewers wondering whether they would ever hook up romantically, Gillian says that off camera they were never very close.

In fact, she goes so far as to admit: "I don't know much about David Duchovny. If you asked me 10 things about him I'd probably get nine of them wrong."

...But now Gillian sets the record straight, saying: "We were never close. It's true we spent more time together than we have in any other relationship but it doesn't mean we were close.

"Very often when you're working long hours you may have a chit-chat between scenes but you're not really standing around talking about personal lives.

"And very often you don't have meals either at work or outside of work together because you're in each other's company all the time.

"So I actually don't know very much about David Duchovny, but we appreciate and respect each other."

2021:

Stella made a new friend today.

2023:

A huge congratulations to my old friend @davidduchovny on the world premiere of his film Bucky Fucking Dent @tribeca which he wrote, directed and stars in! A massive accomplishment and can’t wait to see it. (ps I’d say some of your prior writer / director gigs with me went pretty well and this was all just yesterday, right? 😉) #Tribeca2023

2024:

Awww Double D I’m so sorry. He was your guy. RIP Brick Duchovny

Lastly but not least,

a comment from David, 2024:

"My former X-Files costar Gillian Anderson and I are really good friends. ...When you share a seminal kind of experience in your life-- the huge success we had with that show-- only we know what it's like to be in the center of that. It's almost like being in the same family...."

[brotherblaze]

lemon shark —kuroo tetsurō

—summary: When you admit to quitting your high school club, Kuroo pauses, takes the decision in, and recalibrates his stance. He doesn't understand quitting like that but it's okay, you'll figure it out together. He'll always have your back, just as you'll always have his.

—cw: none

—wc: 1,9k

AO3 version

He finds you where always does when you’re not home and there are no other pressing responsibilities: the arcade.

“You’re going to develop carpal tunnel like that,” Kuroo says, peering at the backglass of the pinball machine over your shoulder. Half of it is an incomprehensible mess of a ruined city skyline with a tall figure standing at the forefront, a gun in his hand. It’s very pointedly not the backglass of a pinball machine. Or maybe the nigh-incomprehensible art there and on the sides is a feature, not a bug. The score on the display board on the bottom of the backglass keeps ticking up. He can hear the pinball in the machine dashing up and down, bang against the obstacles littered on the map, and the flippers at the bottom.

“No, I’m only moving my fingers.” You don’t look at him, stare at the pinball in the machine, press the buttons on the sides to make the flippers jump. The pinball bangs against one and is sent catapulting back into the playfield.

Kuroo steps around you and stops next to the machine — he knows better than to lean against it. His hands are buried in his denim jacket pockets. The pinball isn’t overly difficult to follow but he still gets thrown for a loop every now and then when it ricochets off one of the bumpers underneath the glass in an unexpected direction.

It’s really no surprise you’re this good at pinball. With the amount of time you spend in this place, he’d expect you to be able to clean out the shelves of cheaply-made toys and weird little useless gadgets with ease. Regular arcades are fun, he’ll admit it, but this one, American in style with its ticket system some hail as a scam (and claw machines with butterfinger claws that are definitely a scam to boot), he doesn’t see the appeal in this specific arcade.

Somehow, you do.

The pinball in the machine drops. The lights on the machine blink rapidly.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have practice today?” You pat down your pants’ pockets for the points card and swipe it through the machine.

Kuroo raises his brows. “It’s 7:30.”

“What? No, it’s not.” The argument is immediately on your tongue because it isn’t 7:30 PM. That’s impossible.

He pulls one hand from his jacket pocket, presses the power button on the side of his phone, and turns the screen to face you. 7:36 PM.

“Oh.”

Kuroo glances at his phone screen, then slides the device back into his pocket. “How long have you been here?”

You shrug. “Like… 11.” You look away from him, opt to stare at the painted side panel of the pinball machine. It depicts one long white hot lightning strike with a blue aura. Yeah, there’s absolutely no way this frame was originally for this specific pinball game.

When you look up, he’s narrowed his eyes at you, lips tilted into a frown. It’s that look he gives a particularly difficult English homework task. Analyzing. Solution-oriented. “So, what, you skipped swim practice?” Because he knows how long those run. He knows when and where and how and who. It’s embedded into and around his own club schedule.

“I quit, actually. Yesterday.”

You raise your gaze to meet his, hold it, wait for his reaction.

Kuroo’s face spasms, fleeting expressions cycling so goddamned clearly until he pulls himself together, and puts up a nonchalant facade. His brow twitches and his expression morphs just slightly, finally settling on neutral. It’s almost eerie. He pulls his gaze from you, lets it drop to the pinball machine side panel as if he’s processing or looking for the right words to continue, then looks up at you again.

“Why?”

It’s a measured response. His voice is carefully neutral.

You tilt your head to the side, look over his shoulder at the distance, then tilt it to the other side, stare at the claw machine behind him. Your mind races, thoughts colliding and avoiding collision by near-misses, traveling parallel to each other, splitting at intersections. Possible outcomes on top of outcomes race with them, anything and everything from a prolonged lecture on the importance of perseverance, to disappointed resignation, to quiet acceptance. All of them horrible in their own way.

You settle on a half-truth with a shrug of your shoulders. “Got boring.” You don’t want to see his expression morph into the outcome of his choosing and turn away from him, scan the room for one more victim to acquire enough tickets for the top-shelf prize at the prize counter. “Quit while you’re ahead, or whatever they say.” A victim appears; a lone Street Fighter copycat game tucked right by said prize counter.

Kuroo falls into step with you. “That’s for risky stuff.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know, the stock market.”

“What do you know about the stock market, Romeo?”

You dare a glance at him from the corner of your eye but his expression remains carefully blank. It would be infuriating with anyone else. But Kuroo knows how to read people, how to play to their strengths, what to say and what not to say. You think you can read him well enough; he’s keeping his composure neutral to probe your thoughts and/or feelings on the subject so he's able to give the most effective response. It's almost clinical. The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

He positions himself next to you but he doesn’t take up the player 2 slot on the arcade game. You don’t comment on it and hit play.

Your character dashes, jumps, kicks.

The opponent A.I. dodges, jumps, dies.

The game screen flashes GAME OVER in large blocky letters. You swipe the points card, cross your fingers, and saunter up to the prize counter.

You have an abundance of points, it turns out. The woman behind the desk grabs a hook on a stick and with the help of a step stool, pulls a yellow shark plush down from the high shelf. You point to a small raccoon plushie keychain to drain the rest of your acquired points.

Kuroo stares at the bright yellow shark plushie. Its eyes are embroidered hearts filled in with glittering thread. Its felt teeth are bent. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” he lies. “It’s a horrifying monstrosity; you could get a better one from IKEA.”

“As per usual you have no taste.” You turn the large plush in your hands and tap the pad of your finger against the glittering eye. No residual glitter catches to your skin. “Well, since you hate this, you wouldn’t happen to want the raccoon, either, huh?”

“Never said that.” He holds his hand out, palm up and you place the small gray and brown raccoon into his waiting hand. He lifts it to eye level, stares back at its large vacant acrylic eyes.

“C’mon,” you jerk your head towards the exit, “you can continue gazing into each other’s eyes soulfully on the way home.”

The summer evening air is slowly cooling as the sun sets. Its orange rays glint off the skyscraper windows.

Rush hour draws to a close and the crowds on the train ease up. You manage to snag two seats near the front of the train as an old couple disembarks.

Your newest companion is sandwiched between your neck and the window, its face pressed flat against the glass. You angle your body slightly so its first dorsal fin is pressed against your throat, your knees pressed against Kuroo’s.

Kuroo spends the ride scrolling through social media. Every now and then he swaps apps, texts someone. You catch Kenma’s picture at the top of the messages. Another time you catch sight of the picture for the volleyball team’s group chat.

It’s hard to lean your head back against the cool window, the best you can do with the shark propped behind your head is turn your face towards Kuroo. It gives you the perfect angle to stare at his profile. He’s slightly slouched, shoulders lax. His posture straightens ever so slightly, jaw tensing, brow creasing. His fingers fly across the screen to type out a response in the group chat with you, him, Yaku, and Kai.

You let your eyes wander his face, the curve of his nose and his lips to —

To the thin scar running along the slope of his cheekbone.

“What?” he asks then, looking up from his phone. He locks and pockets it. You tap on your cheek where his scar is. “Does it bother you?” he asks.

“Sometimes.” Because it does. Sometimes.

“As far as first meetings go, it’s probably on the more interesting end of the scale.”

“You’re the one who yanked me from behind.” Because he did.

“Would you have preferred death by way of a moving vehicle?”

You roll your eyes playfully and look away as you always do when he brings that up. Sure, it’s the logical conclusion to you literally trying to run into oncoming traffic way back then; but that doesn’t mean he needs to say it out loud. He doesn’t. It’s the logical conclusion.

“Yeah, well, what a story to tell your grandkids in 60 years.”

You peel yourselves from the seats once your stop arrives and you tuck the shark under your arm. Kuroo keeps to the road side on the sidewalk. The crowds grow even more scarce as your street comes into view.

You pass Kenma’s house; the blinds aren’t drawn and you can faintly see the glow of the TV from Kenma’s room. The lights in Kuroo’s house are on. Some houses on the street are completely dark, others completely alight. There’s a window cracked open somewhere, broadcasting a football match.

You pause in front of your gate, almost at the end of the street, and make no move to cross the threshold.

“I got half the family sicced on me because they’re not fans of me quitting, y’know? Word travels fast.” You stare at the lit living room window obscured by a cream-colored blind. “Somehow they’d gotten it into their heads that I was going to go to the Olympics and now they’re…”

“Pissed?”

“That’s putting it lightly. Pissed and everything else under the Sun.” You purse your lips. “Probably gonna hear how I wasted my Olympic potential for the rest of eternity. I think they’re delusional for thinking I could ever make it that far.”

There’s a lull in the conversation. Birds swoop down from the sky, land on the power lines draped above your heads.

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Kuroo asks, jerking his head in the direction of his house. “Dad’s making pancakes first thing in the morning.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “Thanks, but I might as well get lecture number three million about how I can ‘still save my Olympic career’ over with. Good night.”

“Night.”

Kuroo lingers by the gate as you step through and take the short cobblestone path up to the house. He watches you pause at the door before you slot your keys in and throw it open. Still, he stands there as the door closes and stares at your bedroom window. It doesn’t take long before there’s movement, the blinds being rolled down and the lights turning on.

Only then does he take off towards his own house, clutching the raccoon keychain in his pocket.

part 2

divider by @/kafekitsune

[fallenhunnyapple]

@ilikelookingatthings left a very long and question filled essay about Angel!Lu AU in the replies so now its time to delve into More Info about the AU! @fallenguitarhero is my Adam so I got his input for all the Adam-related parts of this. Under a cut because.... this is Very Long LOL (bonus art at the end)

I'm going to just Copy-Paste the answers I got when we discussed it

I do think that Adam actually subconsciously shifts blame to Lilith because he's very black and white in his views. He hates devil Luci but he thinks he can prevent angel Lu from going down that path if he just keeps them apart. Lute also believes this and ngl her view of Lilith is like...really awful internalized misogyny type shit. Both of them think its better the two never meet and Lute outright threatens Lilith to stay away. Adam is too possessive to try and shift Lu to someone else but he does like... try to push Lu back into friendship type feels. Adam is a dumbass about sexuality so he thinks if he brings Lu to do Masculine and Straight things it will fix this. Instead he ends up just spending even more time with him and making it worse. As for his trauma... yeah Adam tries to hide it. Mostly by changing the subject and acting like an asshole tbh. I've thought abt Lu finding out about Cain and Abel p much by mistake (maybe saw artwork of it, all the hell related stuff is hidden but they wouldnt think to hide art of Adam holding Abel's body or Cain's exile) and it breaking his little baby heart. Adam def has moments where like... his mind is busy w something else like a bad day or a nightmare and for a second he sees the devil instead of his angel. Adam always like... 'shit, sorry, i thought you were someone else- fuck, don't look at me like that, c'mon.' There are other issues he just... doesn't realize he needs to hide. They're right about Adam being cynical and like... telling himself Lu doesn't really love him. Even once they date, he's still insecure. At that point i think he'd tell Lu about Lilith leaving him for a friend of his (whose name he never gives) and his marriage with Eve ending badly. He avoids details. He prob talks way more about his kids and prob even introduces Lu to them... Lu being around might encourage him to work on his relationship with them. Adam's body dysmorphia is such a contrast from the Adam Lu knew before... i do think that with him hiding so much from Lu, he tries to make it up to him by making sure his life is perfect. He goes out of his way to keep his angel happy and his attitude spreads to his exorcists who accept Lu into their flock. tbh Adam's dynamic with them prob becomes way healthier over time due to Lu's influence. i think Adam does tell the truth about some things but leaves out the details. Like he says evil found earth and destroyed Eden but says it hurts too much to talk about it (not a lie) and tells Lu that it's why the exorcists exist, they protect heaven and the dead humans from it. Which is what the official story is anyway! i think Lu prob has the same info the average low ranking Heavenborne and winners do. If Lu pushed him too much Adam might admit there are things he can't tell him but frame it as a military thing - there are things only Michael, Adam and the high ranking exorcists can know. He feels a lot of guilt about lying. it weighs on him a lot. that and the stress of protecting Lu from his brothers honestly makes Adam act more subdued and tired than canon Adam. His eyebags are awful. It prob becomes obvious as time goes on that Adam is Not Well. He keeps his mask on for a looong time after the first time bc it helps him hide his feelings and self-regulate but when he finally takes it off it's obvious to Lu from how he looks that Adam is struggling mentally. Comparing him to how he looked in Eden makes it so clear.

For Lu's part of things. Of course he'd ask about Lilith. Especially after finding out that so long has passed and Adam is here, so Lilith is probably here too, right? I feel like because he missed... So much, the concept of Death to him still doesn't really sink in. Like even with the Sins, it's basically like he just Knows he can't See them again. So with Lilith its like Adam has to just lie the same as with Anyone else from Hell. And Lu is definitely heartbroken about Lilith being Gone.

And like, at the time, Adam isn't lying so he doesn't feel Guilty about it, he just feels bad seeing Lu so upset. The timeline of this is kinda indeterminate but it definitely is Earlier than the 7 years of Lilith being in Heaven. So when he first Appears, she hasn't left Hell yet. Who knows, Charlie may not have even been born yet at that point. There's no Solid point in Time for Lu to have appeared in Heaven, it's just... Earlier. He doesn't think to Look for her because he knows that if she's Not Already There, then she's Inaccessible. Otherwise Adam would have told him, he's sure of it. (Adam has no obligation to tell Lu when Lilith does get there and for the reasons stated above + the fact that the Elder Angels probably would try and deter any interaction between the two. he's left in the Dark about her arriving in Heaven. He doesn't know Adam has even made a Deal with anyone) He still misses her because Adam is Truly the only friend from When he's from left.

And tbh the mixed signals are what keeps Hope Alive for Lu. As much as he tries to be okay with friendship, he still wants more because he's In Love and Adam is the only thing that makes him feel Normal when his entire life and everything he knew was entirely up-ended. It's why he's so passive about it. He doesn't want to make Adam feel bad, but he sees Adam being so Conscious of him now and it makes him happy. He doesn't wanna Push it, but he still likes seeing that Adam is Aware of him like that now. Especially because it's not in a way where Adam is trying to push him away, Adam is actively spending more time with him!

The longer time passes, the more discontent Lu grows. Knowing he's being lied to/that things are being hidden, even by Adam, he is Curious and he wants to learn more. But he also isn't going to be reckless about Learning More. The thing is also he Doesn't Know what questions he should be asking. He could ask Winners things and get answers, its not like anyone would stop him from Talking to Winners, its part of his Job. But like... How would he even start to figure out what's Missing in his knowledge?

Also Lu is definitely Aware of how different Adam is from his Eden self. Like just Visually, it's so easy to separate them because Adam wears his mask. But when its just the two of them and Adam is maskless, Lu may be more susceptible to treating him like that. But he's also very aware of the fact that actually their Knowledge Base is completely flipped. Lu hardly knows anything and Adam knows Everything.

And like.... Lu Knows that being kept in the dark is probably 'for his own good' but as stated, the person who fell is Still him. So now instead of resenting/being upset that Humans were kept in the dark, now it's himself. There's no Fruit That Will Fix Things for him though. He's just left frustrated at his lack of agency in this. And honestly, what keeps in line Most is Fear. Since coming to this time, his family has been Nicer to him, he's actually getting along to some degree with his brothers who used to ridicule him (or worse) and he Knows it's only because he's 'behaving' now, now that Creation is over and Life Has Existed. And he's scared or what will happen if he steps too out of line. He doesn't have the refuge of going to Eden to visit the Humans if things go south with his siblings. He isn't allowed on Earth, he's confined to Heaven, so he would just be stuck with the same sort of things that ultimately drove him originally to commit the Sin of giving Eve the Apple (not that he's Aware of how it culminated) And Also he has Adam. He doesn't want to know what the consequences would be if they were to decide that they shouldn't be allowed to stay together. It would absolutely break him.

If Lu were to find out about the exterminations, he'd be just as Appalled by it as Emily was. Lu doesn't know about Sin, what that entails, how Sinners destroy everything. He hasn't had to live with it so he can't see any contempt or justification for their destruction. Lucifer hates them because they came in a ruined the world he tried to build in Hell. Lu doesn't have any such associations with them. He would just see them much like Charlie does, souls who made mistakes and who should be given the chance to Do Better and make up for it. (That's sort of what he is, in a way, too.) He would absolutely be upset and scold the fuck out of Adam and Lute if he knew what his besties were REALLY doing once a year-

As for the sexual stuff, Both Lucifers started without having a concept of sex or sexuality, so both of them are specifically shaped by their partners (literally in a way). So the Lucifer who learned and explored with Lilith is going to be completely different from the Lucifer who learned and explored with Adam in terms of How they have sex. It's a skill they learn by doing, so it's not the Same.

Thank you for sticking it out this long, have a doodle for your troubles 🙏

[artssslut2]

I Told You It Would Happen

This can be a standalone or part three to something’s missing.

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: you are art finally got the news you had been waiting for.

It had been another month or two since you last took a test. You and Art decided to keep trying but try not to get too excited yet because it could take a while. However, you started having some symptoms you couldn’t ignore. The biggest being a missed period. When you noticed you wanted to jump up and down and tell Art, but then you thought about how disappointed he’d be if it was another negative. So you decided that you would just take the test alone while he was training.

As you sat in the bathroom waiting for the results of the test you felt guilty. Art had been right by your side every other time. Would he feel left out? Would he want to be here? You knew he’s want to be here weather it was positive or negative, you suddenly decided to cover up the test with a towel and wait for him to get home. You forced yourself to do everything in your power not to look at the test. “It’s probably negative” you kept telling yourself. You went for a long walk to try and distract yourself from what could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you (besides Art). You saw the time and knew Art would be home soon so you rushed back to the house. As you got to your house Art pulled into the drive way meeting him at the door. He looked surprised to see you out for a walk, it was kind of out of the ordinary for you.

“Whatcha doing babe?” Your husband asked wrapping his arms around you giving you a quick kiss.

“Just uh enjoying our beautiful neighborhood, why?” You answered clearly hiding something, you were a terrible liar and Art knew it.

“Yeah? What’s going on y/n/n?” Art asked you suspiciously neither of you opening the door yet

“I - um - I… I thought maybe I was pregnant because I missed my period so I was gonna take a test and not tell you unless it was positive because I didn’t want you to be disappointed but then I felt so guilty because I knew you would still want to be there no matter what the test said so I covered the test before I could see the results so that I could wait for you so we could both look and I’ve been trying so hard not to look and I’m kind of freaking out” you blurred out somehow all in one breath. Art waited a minute making sure you were done, you noticed a small smile growing on his face

“What? Are you mad?” You asked

“You think you’re pregnant?” He whispered sweetly

“Well I don’t know maybe” you replied still in panic mode

“What are we waiting for let’s go see if we’re parents!” Art happily replied pulling you in the door, you followed him to the master bathroom.

“You look. I can’t.” You ordered him gesturing to the towel the test was under.

“Are you sure?” He asked

“Yes now do it!” You barked desperate to know what it said. You watched him slowly lift the towel up looking at the test so only he could see it. His face was blank and you were sure it was negative

“What? What does it say?!” You suddenly we’re mad that you told Art just for it to be negative. His face still not showing anything. He looked down and you saw a smile form on his face. He looked at you

“We’re gonna be parents” he said quietly with tears in his eyes.

“What!? Lemme see!” You ripped the test from him.

“Oh my god!” You yelled grabbing arts face with the test still in your hand now you were both crying Art more than you

“You’re pregnant” Art cried pulling you in for the tightest hug ever

“I’m pregnant!” You cried back, Art dropped to his knees hugging your abdomen

“I told you it would happen” he said kissing you stomach. Your heart felt like it was glowing.

The rest on the night you practically stayed in the same position. You layer in bed and art layer by your stomach with his arms hugging your non existent baby bump. The night was filled with tears of joy, cuddles, and talk of nursery colors, names, what the baby would look like. Art even talked about giving them siblings but you reminded him that you guys should just focus on this one for now.

Art was right, it did happen.

[llllluxxxx]

TECHNICALITIES

Uncle ACE

Introduction, Part 1, Part 2

Summary; Room 206.

Pairing; F!oc x tashi duncan x patrick zweig x art donaldson

Word Count; 1.9k

Warning; sex, oral (f receiving), talks of jerking off, underage drinking, underage smoking, edging :3

After holding Kenny's hair back, forcing her into bed, and changing out of her throw-up stained dress, Sabrina found herself outside room 206. She pressed her ear to the door, listening to giggles. She knocked lightly, hoping they would hear it, and took a step back from the door. She fiddled with the strings of her Australia Open hoodie that she had collected last year. Art opened the door.

"Hey!" he said cheerfully, ushering her in.

The brunette walked past him into the room. She saw Patrick and Tashi on the floor. She groaned and went to turn around to walk right back out the door.

"Where are you going?" Patrick exclaimed. "You didn't even let us say hi!" He was obviously a little tipsy, making Sabrina roll her eyes. She had dealt with enough drunk people in the last three hours.

"Hey! Sit down!" Tashi cheered. "We were just talking about you!" she said with a big smile on her face. The brunette tensed up.

"Oh?" She glanced at Art, who was still standing by the door. He gave her a shy smile.

"Nothing bad," he hummed and sat down. "Sit!" Patrick beamed. Sabrina sat on her knees with a huff, settling between Patrick and Tashi but closer to Patrick.

Patrick and Tashi kept chatting as Art passed the brunette a beer. She stopped him.

"Can you open it for me?" Art quickly nodded and popped the tab open, passing it to her.

"Thank you." Art smiled at her in response.

"So! Sabby, where did you learn tennis?" Patrick and Tashi turned their attention toward Sabrina as Patrick asked her the question. Sabrina giggles at the nickname.

"Sunset Tennis Club in Beverly Hills," she responded with a nod.

"Oh, you're from Beverly Hills?" Patrick asked, full of interest.

"Oh no, West Hollywood," she confirmed. "Ten minutes out from Beverly Hills."

Patrick tilted his head. "So why didn't you do tennis in West Hollywood?"

Sabrina shrugged. "My dad coaches at Sunset—"

"He owns the club," Tashi interrupted.

"Okay? He still coaches there," Sabrina huffed, already getting annoyed with Tashi.

"Wait, so how do you know each other?" Art asked sweetly.

"Our moms are friends, ive known Sabrina since she was ginger." Sabrina nodded to Tashi's statement.

"Unfortunately," Sabrina mumbled as she moved off of her knees to sit on her butt. She rubbed her left knee.

"ginger!" patrick throws his head back laughing while Art and Tashi giggle. "yes ginger." Sabrina huffs.

"How do you two know each other?" Tashi asked, sipping her beer.

"Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy," Art sighed.

"We've been bunkmates since we were 12," Patrick added.

"That's really cute." "That's so sweet," Tashi and Sabrina said at the same time.

"You ever thought of doing something like that?" Art asks as Patrick offers his cigarette to Sabrina, who gladly took it, earning a dirty look from Tashi.

"No, no, no, no. We couldn't afford it," Tashi said coolly.

"I did for a little bit. The separation anxiety got to me," Sabrina laughed.

"From who?" Art questioned.

"Oh, um, Kenny," they all laughed at the admission.

"Really?" Patrick laughed.

"Yeah, I called her every day for like four months and begged my mom to let me come home," Sabrina rolled her eyes fondly at the memory while tashi rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"That's sweet." Art smiled gently.

"So, Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy... is that where you met your girlfriend?" Tashi pried, snatching the beer can out of art's hand and sabrina passes hers to patrick.

"Girlfriend?" Sabrina looked shocked.

"Oh no, she's not my, um... yeah, yeah" Patrick denied, and Sabrina passed him back his cigarette, feeling a bit bitter.

"And you? Why aren't you pretending to not have a girlfriend?" Tashi raised her eyebrows at Art. Sabrina looked overly interested in the answer to this question, and Tashi took note of it.

"Art's in between ladies," Patrick ruffled Art's hair. a small 'oh' leaves sabrina's mouth.

"Oh, no, no... that makes me sound like I'm some sort of—"

"Whore," Sabrina chimed in jokingly, earning laughs from the three.

"Yeah, Art does fine for himself. I mean, look at him," Patrick grabbed at Art's face.

"Um, so how often does this happen? Um, going after two girls at once?" Tashi laughed, making Sabrina roll her eyes.

"Not as often as you would think. It is an excellent idea, though," Patrick joked.

"So what about the two of you?" Sabrina asked suggestively.

"What do you mean?" It clicked in Art's head right after the words left his mouth. "Oh! No. No." Patrick looked dejected after. Sabrina nudged him with her foot.

"Why? Is that surprising?" Art huffed a laugh.

"Well," Sabrina huffed and sipped her beer.

"Well..." Tashi said in a high-pitched voice.

"What?" Art scoffed.

"I mean... no?" Tashi cringed slightly as she spoke.

"It's a shock to me," Sabrina said bluntly, picking at her sock. The boys laughed loudly, Art turning red at the words. Patrick got a mischievous look on his face that Art immediately recognized.

"Patrick, no," he said firmly. Patrick chuckled.

"Sorry."

"No, wait, tell me!" Sabrina insisted.

"Yes, I think you need to tell me now," Tashi agreed. It was the girls' first time agreeing to something in years.

"No," Art shook his head. Patrick smiled and shook his head.

"I think it's a sweet story," he mocked.

"Uh-huh. All right," Art huffed and received a sweet smile from the brunette.

"Well, let's hear it."

"Yeah, no. Go ahead," Art chuckled along with Patrick.

"I taught Art how to jerk off, so," Patrick shrugs coolly. Sabrina's eyes widen.

"Really?" She looks between them with a smile. "Okay! Patrick was an early bloomer, okay?" Art shakes his head.

"And I think I was on time!"

"And one time, when we were 12, he thought I was asleep, and he was, y'know," Art says with a shrug.

"jerking off..." Patrick finishes his sentence. "And, yeah… And I asked him, 'What are you doing?' And he told me. He’s jerking off.." Sabrina nods with wide eyes, fully invested in the story. "jerking off" Patrick echoes.

"He asked me if I had ever done it before, and I told him no. And so, he just... He showed me how." Art tells the story.

"How so?" Sabrina asks innocently, or at least she attempts to.

"No. I mean… Well… I mean, he did it on his bed," Art explains weakly.

"Okay." Tashi nods. "I did it on my bed. We did it together, but like on opposite sides… in the room," Art continues to explain.

"Mmm…" Sabrina hums and looks at their beds, pushed together before making eye contact with Art.

"Silent?" Tashi asks.

"No, we were talking about Kat, weren't we?" Patrick questions.

"Kat Zimmerman," Art nods.

"Kat Zimmerman?" Sabrina asks, feeling jealousy in her bones at the mention of another girl from Patrick's mouth. 'He's not even your boyfriend, chill Peaches,' Sabrina thinks.

"Patrick said it’s always better," Art says slowly, "if you're like thinking about somebody while you're doing it." Sabrina nods, earning a little laugh and nudge from Patrick.

"And so I asked him who you’re thinking about, and he was talking about this girl," Art looks up like he's imagining her.

"Kat Zimmerman."

"Kat Zimmerman."

Sabrina suddenly hated this girl that she didn’t even know existed until five minutes ago.

"And so, I thought about her, too," Art finishes.

"Wow," Tashi says, "good story." Sabrina licks her lips. "Okay, and who finished first?" Tashi laughs. "Oh, I don’t remember," Art says. "I think you," Patrick nudges him.

"And, well, how was it afterwards?" Tashi questions shamelessly. Sabrina is eternally grateful that she was asking these questions.

"I think Art was a little surprised by the whole thing. He was… He was just sitting there covered in all of it," Patrick explains, making Sabrina burst out in giggles.

"What?" Tashi laughs. "He looked like a kid who’d spilled milk all over his lap," the girls start laughing. "Jesus, Patrick!" Art exclaims. "I knew enough already at this point to have a sock nearby. Forgot to tell Art about that part," Patrick snickers.

"Yeah," Art huffs.

"Mhmm," Tashi hums.

"Yeah, so," Patrick chuckles.

"Right, okay. And what about Kat?" Sabrina chimes in. "What happened with her? Did you guys..." the brunette implies.

"Neither of us..." Patrick hums.

"She got injured a week later and had to quit," Art nods. Sabrina sucks in a sharp breath, feeling some tension release.

"Really?" Tashi seems shocked.

"She wasn't very good in the first place," Patrick shrugs. "No, she sucked," Art laughs.

"No, yeah, you were right. It was a very cute story," Sabrina giggles.

"So, have you guys ever...?" Patrick questions with a smug smile on his face. "No!" Sabrina denies at the same time Tashi says, "Oh yeah," with a shrug.

"I mean, we could show you? Huh, Bunny? Like back then?" Tashi persuades.

"Tashi..." Sabrina whispers as Tashi comes closer.

"It's okay!" Tashi reassures her with a sweet smile.

"Tashi..." Sabrina strains, trying to hold back her whines.

"I know," Tashi hums and bites her neck, not too hard but hard enough to leave a mark.

Sabrina yelps and Tashi pulls away with a slick smile.

"You're a bitch," Sabrina huffs and refuses to look at the boys. The boys in question watch them with wide eyes, their dicks rising in their shorts.

Sabrina glances at the boys nervously, only to see them staring at her with low eyes and . She turns back to Tashi, who's pushing her down until she's propped up on her elbows. Tashi leans down to press kisses to her neck.

"hm?" tashi hum ands leans down, kissing her. sabrina's eyes flutter closed, tashi straddles her and tugs at her hair making the brunette gasp. tashi breaks the kiss and moves down the girls body, kissing at the seat of her shorts. "shit tashi!" sabrina blurts, making tashi giggle and tug her shorts down. sabrina lifts her hips.

Tashi breaks the seal of the girl's panties. "Do you want it?" Sabrina nods her head; she missed this. "Words," Tashi mumbles, making Sabrina's tan face flush red.

"I want it," Sabrina mumbles lowly.

"Can't hear you," Patrick says breathlessly.

"Keep your dick in your pants," Tashi demands. He does, and both of the boys do.

"I heard you, Bunny," Tashi tells the girl, who squeezes her eyes shut at her words. Tashi places kisses on the meat of her thighs, avoiding the forming wet patch in sabrina's underwear.

"Tashi, please?" the brunette huffs, only to be met with "Patience." tashi pulls down her panties slowly.

Looking up to gauge her reaction, Tashi sees wide eyes and parted lips staring down at her.

"i got you." tashi whispers against her thighs, she uses both thumbs to spread her folds. the boys lean forward to see. tashi leans in and starts presses kisses against her spread folds before suckling on her clit. Sabrina whines, pulling on tashi's hair, whining at each flick and suck of her tongue. Tashi's tongue comes in and out of her hole, tongue fucking her while the brunette on the floor, writhes and moans loudly. she squeezes tashi's head with her thighs.

"Fuck! Tashi, I'm gonna—!"

Tashi pulls off and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. "I'm going to bed," Tashi states and stands.

"Wait, what?" Sabrina breathes out.

"I'll be watching your match tomorrow. Whoever wins can have my number," Tashi smiles back at the girl, almost evilly.

Art exhales deeply at Tashi's words, while Patrick's gaze remains on the girl pouting on the floor, mumbling angrily. "All right."

"You can beat him, you know that? You should beat him, actually," Tashi tells the blonde boy.

"Are you saying you want me to?"

"I'm saying you won't get my number if you don't. I wanna watch some good fucking tennis," Tashi says, and with that, she leaves.

Patrick raises his eyebrows at the brunette. "You wanna keep going?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says meekly.

"Both?"

"Both."

[linked-maze]

Questions! Only two haha. Why is Koridai's name Koridai? I understand the other names like Time and Warriors and such, but I don't get Koridai's. And is there a link to the Linked Maze discord somewhere, because no matter where I look, I can't find it! Thank you and I love your art so much!!

cuz the island called Koridai is where the game takes place XD so he is the hero of Koridai and yeah! the link for my discord server is on my pinned post! but here is the link as well ^^(you must be 16+) also thank you!!! :DDD

[treason-and-plot]

Forty minutes later Mia has had one glass of champagne and two Bellinis and is sipping her third, the edges of the room rippling with the music from the DJ’s booth in the adjoining room, a soft, peach-coloured veil drifting lazily across her vision. Belllinis always make her feel mellow and mushy and horny as fuck, like her insides are all warm and melting and she needs something big and hard shoved in there real quick before she dissolves into a puddle. Jackie and Milo are having a light-hearted argument about what they are going to do tomorrow.  Mia squeezes her thighs together and takes a noisy slurp from her glass. Kaleb shoots her a glance, one eyebrow raised.

“Are you okay?” he says coolly.

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” she giggles. “Peachy, geddit? 'Cos I’m drinking Bellinis? Okay. Never mind. I’ll see myself out.“

“The whole reason you hired Madison was so you didn’t have to work weekends,” Jackie says to Milo. “At least that’s what you told me.”

“I still have to lock up,” he says. “I can’t expect her to do everything.”

“Why not? You’re paying her enough.”

“I think that had better be your last one,” Kaleb says to Mia as she half-smothers a burp.

“Oh, fuck off,” she says.   

“Watch your language. People are looking.” he says, his mouth barely moving.

“Yeah, because I’m so fucking hot, Kaleb,” she says. He presses his lips together and reaches for his champagne glass. The DJ next door is playing one of Mia’s favourite songs. “Kaleb!” she says. “Let’s dance!”

But he’s sulking and shakes his head.

“Suit yourself.  What about you, Milo?” Mia says.

“What about me?” says Jackie before Milo can respond.

“Are you sure you’re allowed?” says Mia.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” says Jackie.  

“Be careful,” says Milo.

“Milo, I’m not kayaking down Simagra Falls, for God’s sake,” she says.

“Why are the men in our lives so aggravating?” she shouts at Mia on the dancefloor. It’s only 9.30 and there’s hardly anyone here, but neither of them care, Mia feeling happy and weightless, floating on her Bellini cloud.

“Oh, Milo’s fine. You know he’s one of the good ones,” she says to Jackie.  

“Yeah, but he’s still aggravating."

“Nowhere near as aggravating as Kaleb,” says Mia. "Oh my God. He's turned it into an art form."

“I have to say, I kind of noticed a few red flags tonight,” says Jackie.

“Look, I know he’s problematic,” says Mia. “But whatever.  The truth is, the sex is so good I don’t really care.”

“Oh, Mia,” says Jackie, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation.

“What can I say?” says Mia. “Good dick is a prison, right?”

[hannahssimblr]

She seems brighter when she comes back, though we all ignore the blotchiness of her face, like she’s just been crying. Her lashes are a little wet too, making them long and spiky like she’s a girl from a cartoon. She and Liam are smiling into each other's faces now, mumbling vague reassurances, giggling together as though what just occurred was so silly, and hasn’t caused any genuine hurt to either of them. 

When he kisses her on the cheek she flinches slightly as though there is something objectionable or embarrassing about the way that he touches her, and in that moment his insecurity makes sense. 

I think everyone feels bad for her then and wants for her to feel included because they start asking her questions about school which she answers enthusiastically, making sure to look very interested and engaged in what everyone is saying. It occurs to me that she’s a nice person, that she’s making an effort with others and being polite, and perhaps my initial judgement of her formality was unfair. I think I should try harder to be a nice person too, but then I wonder if it’s even in my nature to be that way. I’ve sort of already embraced being a bastard and allowed it to define me. 

“Tell everyone what you want to do in college,” Shane encourages, and Evie fiddles with the ends of her plaits. “Oh, well, art, I think.”

“You make art?” I say.

Immediately her face reddens. It must be a side effect of her kind of complexion. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m okay at it.”

“Everyone says she’s great at it.” Liam says proudly, as though we are discussing his accomplishments and not Evie’s. “I haven’t seen her drawings yet, but the girls were raving about her. She draws in her sketchbook every day.”

“That’s cool.” I speak pointedly to her and not him, “What do you draw?” 

“Just whatever I see. Landscapes, people, sometimes still life, like stuff that’s lying around in the mobile home. I really like doing it, because when I’m drawing I don’t have to think about anything else.”

I smile. Somehow it’s comforting to hear her talking about art in a way that’s wholly familiar to me, as a meditation, a form of escapism.

“Jude is an artist too.” Jen says. “Ye have something in common.”

“Yeah, I’m studying art in college next year. I already have my place in the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts to do a degree.”

“Oh, so you’re studying abroad?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be good. Four years in Germany, I can’t wait. I’m actually leaving at the end of the summer,” which is… about seven weeks. My palms prickle and become damp with sweat but I keep smiling. It’s fine. Everything will just fall into place as long as I don't get stressed. 

Claire interrupts our conversation with her return, and kneels whispering urgent sounding things to Evie. I don’t hear anything but the delightful phrase “throwing up everywhere” and wonder with utter dread what exactly constitutes everywhere. On the couch? The rug? Up the walls? Well, at least it’ll be motivation to clean the house for once. Still, I’m struck by how much I fucking hate Kelly Healy in that moment, and consider suggesting that Jen clean up her vomit as penance for inviting her in the first place. 

“I can get my dad to come and collect us,” Liam is saying as he and Evie are getting up to help.

“Is everything okay?” says Jen, and Evie smiles tightly, “Yeah, just Kelly’s sick, so we’re going to have to take her home and look after her and stuff.”

“You don’t have to go, Evie, you can stay here with us if you want.”

She shakes her head, “No, I do. I want to go with them,” she turns to leave, but Jen quickly catches her wrist, “Hey, you should come to Dublin with us this weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Jude and I are going to an exhibition, and you might really like it.”

Usually I’d be pissed off that she’s changing our plans without consulting me first, but it seems like a good idea to me, actually. Maybe it’d be nice to go to an exhibition with someone who enjoys art, and not just Jen who walks around pointing at things and saying I could do that if I was bothered.

“No pressure at all,” I assure her, “but yeah, if you want to, you’re welcome. We’ll mostly be hanging out in the city for the day anyway so whatever you feel like doing.”

Jen pats her hand and gives her a meaningful look, “I’m just saying, it might be nice to get away for an afternoon.”

Evie grins. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her look all night, “I’d love to.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[alpydk]

Fire and Ice

My contribution to the art/fic trade with @orangekittyenergy - Tav's can be very personal, so I'm praying that this is okay. I really enjoyed this and let it all just go where it needed which probably explains the length written in the last few hours... I like writing, it's productive daydreaming.

Word Count - 3339 words - Angst/Comfort, happy ending

Fawn cursed the depth of the wizard’s chest as they squeezed into the alleyway, her half-elf body forced so closed to him she could feel the tensed pectoral muscles against her own slight frame. He’d gone to talk only for her to place her palm against his mouth, her eyes a glaring signal that now was not the time for a lecture on the making of deals you did not plan to keep.

The Zhentarim mercenary ran past, his footsteps heavy on the sundried cobbles of the city streets. Baldur’s Gate was no longer their potential turf, all because of the involvement of a group of meddling adventurers. She’d known what was going to happen, her dealings with them all those years ago not allowing her the true freedom she desired, but after all this time, after Gale’s belief that she was a noble person, she couldn’t go back into negotiations with them. Her brother would be disappointed, but this was for the best and maybe, with luck, one day she could save him from them as well.

She felt the moistened heat of Gale’s breath upon her hand, his eyes growing impatient, his own hands fidgety around her waist. They crept around to the base of her back, pulling her in a little closer, and she felt the effects their perilous situation was having on her wanting companion. He’d once read a book, he’d explained, and she’d believed him wholeheartedly after that night, what the effects of danger had on desire. What had once been her quiet, well-spoken wizard had become as unrestrained as the magical energies at her own command.

Her hand lowered from his mouth as the danger passed, a hunger in her own eyes spurred by the closeness of his physique. The sweat from his brow brought strands of hair to stick, his sandalwood scent merged with her own, his lips would taste of the morning’s fresh bread.

“Fuckin’ magic users. They’ve probably gone and cast some invisibility or some other bullshit.” “Yeah, but they can’t have got too far. You check the sewers; I’ll try the park.” “Why do I get the sewers?” “Because you already smell like shit. Quite complaining.”

The elf listened as the two mercenaries parted ways, leaving her and Gale with the chance to escape. Her shoulders wanted to relax, but the playful smirk of the wizard, the hand that gripped her hip a little too tightly, would not allow her the possibility. “Gale… We both know this isn’t the right time.”

He brought his face to her neck; heated breaths merged with soft kisses. “Maybe, but how many more opportunities will we get like this?”

She sighed at his words. She knew he was right, as usual. The upcoming battles would grow more difficult: Orin, Gortash, The Netherbrain. There were so many that one or both of them might not come back from, so many moments where they could be torn apart from one another, where she could lose him, as she had so many others before. His fervent kisses became more eager the longer she took to resist. His tongue ran up the arch of her neck, her hips pushing instinctively into his within the confines of the shadowed alleyway, her hands beginning their own dance trapped between their compressed bodies.

“Oh shit, sorry.” A child stumbled upon them, trying to use the alleyway as a shortcut home.

Fawn tensed and used the momentary distraction to pull herself from Gale’s grasp, her heartbeat raised, her own sweat beading under her russet tones, joining the scarred line across her eye. She slid herself from his hands, out from under the shaded canopy of the buildings and into the stifling city sun. The child gave a small laugh and squeezed past Gale with ease, running down the alley to their unknown destination. 

---

He tensed up, running his hands down his robes, a combination of patting off the dust from the brick wall behind him and making himself look like the presentable magic user he was and not the desperate sack of physical urges she always turned him into. He patted his side once, twice, before looking down. “The child has pilfered my gold pouch…”

She chuckled at his misfortune. “Yeah, they’ll do that if you’re not paying attention. You need to keep your wits up about you. Try to focus on less pressing matters.”

Her playful smile did not go unnoticed as he emerged into the sunlight, his lips moistened from yearned kisses, cheeks blushed as Elverquisst. He didn’t know what it was about her that drove him to these uncharacteristic moments of insanity. He’d suspected it was the Weave coursing through her veins, binding the two of them together, trying to entwine as it naturally would, or maybe it was the way her glance always saw through him. Ever since the portal incident, it was as if she’d read him like he was one of the simplest tomes known to man, and he’d happily let her trace her fingers over every weathered page.  

He sighed, knowing there was little point in chasing the urchin. A few measly gold to him would mean a week’s worth of food for the child, most likely a refugee of the city, or one of the many orphans growing up into a world of thievery and the Guild’s politics. Taking Fawn’s delicate hand into his own, he stepped forward. He saw the gentle dusting of ash, the crackling of a lightning bolt leaving its reminder on her ivory skin, and he ran his thumb over it, revealing the beauty that lay beneath. He made a note to place a kiss there later in the evening, a starting point of the map he planned to use on an awaited exploration of mounds and crevices.

As they walked through the streets back to camp, their attentions split between each other and the potential lookouts trying to find them, Gale spoke. “A friend of the family… I always was curious why Roah said that to you.”

The half-elf lifted her hazel eyes to him, and he could see the calculations going on, the wall she kept up so readily now being further supported with a cold distance. “That’s just the phrase the Zhentarim use. She meant nothing by it.” Her voice wavered a little, an uncertainty in the strength of her lie, and he felt her pace quicken a little as if she were trying to escape the situation she found herself in.

“My love, I know there have been many a moment my propensity to read into behaviours has led to disorder, but I cannot help but notice your aversion to this line of questioning.”

“You wizards…” She sighed deeply, releasing his hand as she walked further ahead of him.

He stopped for a moment, trying to register her words. Again, this would be the argument of the evening, as it had been a few times before when things became uncomfortable for her. She would claim that all wizards were too curious for their own good, that their unnatural abilities with magic are what lead them to unbridled ambition. Once, she had stumbled over her words and inadvertently blamed him for his own folly, and only once had he blamed her reckless use of magic for the reason she had no loved ones to speak of. This was not the way he wanted things to continue going.

“Fawn, wait.” He took a few quick steps forward and kept pace with her, trying to quench the rising flames as quickly as he could. “You know I meant no harm with my line of reasoning. I simply wish to understand why the Zhentarim have turned on us as ardently as they appear to have.”

“And you expect me to know? As if I’m some omnipotent goddess watching over all?”

He shook his head at her words. Clearly, time would be the best solution to remedy the matter at hand. He considered his options: continue with her in stony silence, or take a different route, allowing them both the chance to clear their heads. There was little distance until the campsite and the risk of being captured was practically zero now that they were out of the busy city streets. “You make it very clear sometimes that you are not a goddess. I apologise for my blind devotion.” His words hurt as he spoke them, too final, too reminiscent of words he had wanted to utter during his year alone.

---

Fawn watched as he turned from her, his footsteps growing quieter as he took the eastern path from her. She wanted to run after him, to apologise and explain everything, but it had always been easier to push those around her away. To protect them and herself. She thought of her brother when she was a young girl, how he had left the first moment he could. She hadn’t understood fully at the time, but as she grew and trained under their father, it became clearer. Their mother was gone, leaving nothing but ex-military routine and training, her sorcerer blood a disappointment in her father’s cold eyes.

She walked the path to camp alone, knowing she had been wrong to speak as she had done. She longed to be back in that alleyway, lustfully bound to Gale, his body pressed against hers, and only the present moment existing between them. No tragic pasts, no doomed futures. The tents fell into view with the setting of the sun, shadows extending like creeping tendrils. She was thankful that they grew no further than permitted; the Shadowlands finally resolved of its dreadful curse that took so many lives.

Gale sat outside his tent, a book in hand, the pages turning with a little more agitation than either of them liked. Soon he would begin to cook, and with it, calm down enough for her to approach him, restarting the cycle of their relationship once again. She thought not of the future, instead finding comfort in the recent past, of Moonrise Towers, and royal blue sheets beneath her, of words of love and comfort.

---

He saw her come back to camp, her quick glance placed over him, but he refused to lift his head to her. He was angry, though he was unsure at which of them it was directed at. She had yet again pushed him away, but again he had questioned her motives rather than trusting her. Fawn had believed him from the start of his history with Mystra and the orb. She’d granted magic items without reservation, had held his hand softly as the pain had been too much for him, and then there had been Moonrise; a night that he believed would be his last. Long before that starlit evening he had realised his love for her, but it was only then that he had summoned the courage to admit it to her, and she had replied in kind. From that night he’d given her everything he could of himself, his honesty, love, body. If she requested it, he would happily give his life for her.

Now though she departed for her tent, an armour put up that he was unsure he could break through. He moved to the campfire, his hands mindlessly preparing the evening meal, his eyes watching the flickering flames that danced over the firewood. Gale sat alone for some time; his mind lost in thoughts of how he could remedy the situation. The pot boiled away, the savoury broth releasing the homely aroma into the air. His shoulders relaxed and his jaw unclenched from its involuntary position.

Quietly placing herself beside him, he noticed Fawn lift the wooden spoon and stir. “Smells nice,” she said softly, testing the waters of conversation.

“Well, I always strive for the best. In both magic and cooking.”

The silence hung heavily around them, neither knowing what to say nor how to apologise, if they should apologise.

Fawn brought the spoon to her lips, giving the broth a silenced blow before taking it into her reddened lips. “It tastes nice, too. Could use a little salt, though.”

“Always the food critic, never the cook.” He smirked at her, trying to ignore the pleasure he felt on seeing her tongue licking at the tip of the wooden spoon. Easily distracted by the movements, the cookery, and her presence, he found it difficult to focus on the matters he wanted to discuss with her. He coughed nervously, bringing himself back on track. “Are we going to discuss earlier or refrain from the topic altogether?”

She shuffled awkwardly, placing the utensil back in the pot sharply. “And say what, Gale? That again, you have sought answers for questions you yourself have made?”

“I seek answers to the secrets you hide from me.” His voice came out more exasperated than he wished, and he took the momentary silence to compose himself. “When I was a young wizard, and not the fallen Chosen you witness before you, I had a Drow elf as a… Well, a close friend. She would often chastise me similarly to how you do and always strived to do better than me, as if it was a competition.” He took a pinch of salt and added it to the cooking pot that lay between them both. “She often spoke of khaless, trust, but especially misplaced or foolish trust; something she saw in me so often as I worked to become the best I could be. And she was right in what she observed. I do trust too easily, and I certainly love far easier and with more of my heart than is wise.”

He hoped she understood his words, his long-winded explanation, an apology for who he was as a person, for the pressure he placed on her simply by being honest with her. He watched as she exhaled; her gaze focussing softly on him. He was unsure where this conversation would lead, but the balance needed to be disrupted. He had given all, and now it was her turn.

---

Fawn knew she had pushed and pushed, but it had now gone too far. Emotionally closed off was the term her brother had used in mockery so many years ago. She may have struggled to wield a sword as much as father had wished, but she had mastered the concept of psychological warfare. “Do not share yourself or else they see your weakness. Do not let your mental guard down or your heart be pierced.”

Gale spoke, and she listened. Together they had been as fire and ice and slowly her heart had begun to melt. “We have a similar word in Elvish, kessuk. It translates to stupid,” she said, trying to hold on to her walls so desperately.

Gale gave an awkward chuckle. “Maybe it is that which she was truly insinuating.” He lowered his head, the heart of the subject now approaching. “I suppose what I poorly attempt to articulate to you is that maybe I have been kessuk, as you so bluntly put it.”

Her mouth fell open at his words, the belief that he was in the wrong almost an insult which hurt her. “No. No. How can you even think that?”

“My dear, I love you and you know I would offer my love to you for a thousand more nights to come should the opportunity unveil itself, but, and I say this with nothing but the starlight of my heart that shines for you, I do not know how much more I can give. There are times I feel you may not be on the same proverbial page as me, and in some lonelier moments, even in the same book.”

Her heart broke at his words; that this was possibly the end for them, now nothing but starlit nights fading to dawn, of darkened alleys bathed in sunlight. “But…” The tears built up in her eyes and she looked away before Gale could see her weakness.

His voice was soft as he spoke, not demands but innocent questions that she couldn’t ignore. “This is what I speak of, Fawn. You shut me out, all of us. What will it take for me to see the heart that has beaten in tandem with mine? To feel the selfless love that I know is buried deep beneath the surface.”

Her hands sat in her lap, struggling to find a place of rest. The sorcerer rarely felt fear in the face of danger, had stood against the gods and their orders, but at this moment she felt vulnerable, as if Gale was seeing every crack in her armour as clearly as the scar on her face. “I left Baldur’s Gate before things got too bad, but until then, I was in a rough situation.”

She went on for some time telling him of her childhood, of the mother she never knew and the father who couldn’t accept what she was, of her brother who introduced her to the Zhentarim and the odd jobs she unknowingly did for them before understanding who they truly were. She spoke of Roah and their passing acquaintance, of how she had left the city and begun to build a life of her own, wielding her magic that flowed so naturally. As her tale continued, Gale grew closer to her, his hand resting on hers, a weight that brought her calm. The fire dimmed, and the food cooled, but every secret was told, every emotion bared for him to see and reject if he so wished.

---

He looked at her with sympathy, understanding all too well how a childhood under a soldier could be; training schedules and emotions hidden being the law of the home. Their lives had run similar paths at the beginning, but turned out differently. Both, though, had been ones of loneliness and finding their own way. Whilst hers had been one of potential crime, his had been of isolated study. He had grown to love too easily; she struggled to love. His magic had led him into the arms of a goddess; hers had driven her away from the arms of her father.

As she fell quiet, he knew there was little he could say. All questions had been answered, and the truth finally revealed to him. The woman who sat in front of him glowed brighter than she ever had. Under the mask had been revealed a strength and reliance that only made him love her more. He brought his arms around her and pulled her in close, no longer lustful hands of trailing desire yearning for her, but a desperate need to protect her and love her as she was in that moment. He felt her warm breath on his chest, smelt the floral aroma as he nestled his face in her hair.

--- 

A small part of her felt exhausted, as if she had endured a battle and emerged from the rubble battered and bruised. His arms around her felt like a home she had never had, a safety and connection with another person she had only ever dreamt of. He’d listened to her, accepted the past she had run from and now still embraced her as fondly, if not more so. She lifted her head to his, her soft lips brushing up against his, wanting in her eyes to give him everything, to no longer hold back from him in any aspect of their relationship. “I love you, Gale.”

His hands drifted up her back as their lips met, as the stars shone just for them, and time halted its ever-journeying march. For a thousand nights more, they would share in moments like this, some frantic and passionate in darkened alleyways, some in the desperate eagerness of sun-drenched fields, others more leisurely from the sanctuary of Gale’s tower as the rains fell from the heavens. A thousand more nights of a future together; Gale and Fawn burning with starlight as one.

[thegoober010]

Hello! Could I request Trey, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia with a reader who played twst (the game) and shows them fanart? Headcannons please!

HELP I LOVE THIS IDEA !! OFC YOU CAN BUDDY :D ‼️‼️

gender neutral reader as always !

Tws/Cws : none !

Also idk how this would work but I'm guessing like it's an au sorta thing where the twst characters end up irl somehow or somehow the reader who plays twst ends up in the twst world ?

Ima go with the second option though !

Hopefully I'm right idk ?!

oh also I didn’t know which type of fanarts you meant so I did like tame ones/wholesome ones, ship ones, and like weird ones sooo yeah

sorry if this isn’t what you wanted ! I tried my best ig!?

---

♤ Trey Clover ♤

Trey was literally just staring with a concerned expression at you

He was obviously in a bit of shock after you explained your whole situation meanwhile you were just happy he listened to you

And now here you are showing him all the fanarts of him

You started off tame just showing him all the cute and nice fanarts of him chilling or just being with his friends or being put into different outfits/meeting other characters

He didn't have much of an opinion on them he was just happy people liked him enough to draw him as well as his friends !

After a bit of showing him the more tame art of him it quickly went downhill after you showed him the ship art. In all honesty he thought some of them were cute even if he didn’t think some of the ships could be possible due to the other persons opinion on him or his on theirs but some of the ships made him a bit uncomfortable

You obviously just showed him the cute ship art first all of that and then immediately after he went “eh that’s sweet I guess….” After that you immediately showed him the more… concerning fanart/shipart

“…. Oh great sevens…” is all he mutters out before staring at you with the most concerned and uncomfortable expression ever while you laugh mischievously

He doesn’t say much after that and he gently grabs your hand and puts your phone down to your pocket before shaking his head.

there’s a good awkward silence between you two for a good 30 minutes before Riddle and Cater come into the room and the topic immediately changes with all of you now just playing a card game.

Trey does make you promise to never show him those weird fanarts ever again though ^_^”!

Cater Diamond

He listens very intently to you while you explain everything and he gets a little freaked out but…. You’re his friend so… he listens I guess, but it’s obvious with his face he’s a little freaked

After that you two are a little awkward but you changed the subject quickly with.. “Do you wanna see the fanarts people make of you and everyone else…?”

…..

“Hell yeah 😍”

You start off tame as well showing him the cute fanarts of him and his friends but mainly of him and he lets out a few laughs at how accurate they are

Is honestly super happy he has fans in your world too “Well I’m like super popular here so I’m like not surprised I’m popular in your world!” He jokes

He immediately takes out his phone and asks you to send them to him like ASAP

You do, after all if you don’t he won’t stop bothering you about it and basically begs for the art, plus he kinda wants to show it off and if anyone asks he’ll just say some of his fans/follwers drew him !

After that you start showing him the ship art and to be honest he doesn’t mind them much but he does ask often why people decide to ship him and people he doesn’t see himself liking romantically

He doesn’t ask you to send any of the ship art which was a bit of a surprise but understandable

Once you finished showing him the ship art you gained quite the mischievous thought. Why not show him the more hmmm deranged ones ?

Let’s just say he was jaw dropped at some of the art. He was obviously uncomfortable with some of it too… He laughed nervously before patting your shoulder “Lol I think that’s all you should show me .” And that’s where it ends, you two went out for some ice cream after that and posted pictures of what yall got !

he never mentioned the fanart again besides asking to send just one more wholesome one to post on his story or something !

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is low key surprised but very understanding about your situation ! You two were hanging out in his room when you had explained everything and eating food as well as a few crackers when you randomly decided to spill that little fun fact of yourself to him !

He was very quick to make the topic less awkward by joking about your situation trying to make you feel better

After that you asked him if he wanted to see his fanarts and he had the biggest smile ever at the thought that people draw HIM LIKE when I tell you he could not stop nodding

You happily obliged and showed him all the tame fanarts of him where he was hanging out with the others or where it was just him and such and he LOVED them. He looked like he was about to cry out of joy

He was so happy and he asked you if you could print out the drawings so he can put them in a notebook or something (you said yes)

After that you showed him the ship arts and he didn’t really mind them, he thought it was a little funny how people liked shipping him with his friends and such but he didn’t really get some of the ships lol

He would ask sometimes why he’s shipped with these people but that he doesn’t really mind he just thinks it’s interesting pairings and so on

You explained a bit the dynamics blah blah blah but after that you showed him the more… strange art. Safe to say he had that shocked look on him. He didn’t get why people drew such things….

He joked about them a bit trying his best not to seem concerned but after that you felt bad so you showed him more wholesome ones again and safe to say he got wayyy happier and less concerned !

Lilia Vanrouge

He listens very intently to your yappin and explanation, he’s not very shocked that happened or concerned, when you reach his age (not like we can tho…) not many things surprise you anymore, even things like this…

He just chuckled before patting your shoulder and giving advice on the situation and promises to help you out

After a bit of silence you ask him if he wants to see fanarts and he seems a little surprised, well that did surprise him a bit huh… well why not? What’s the harm in it.

You grinned at his response and just show him so many wholesome fanarts of him taking care of malleus and silver or just him or him when he was a general and so on and he was quite impressed. He did give a few critiques to some art but he would also compliment all the art a lot as if he were an art nerd reviewing 18th century art or sumn

He took your phone sometimes to look closer (you know that grandpa pose where the grab the phone take off their glasses and move their head to see something better, yeah, that pose basically) and he was so chatty about each fanart

You send him like one or two art pieces and hes smiling really wide, it was a nice sight like he literally can’t stop smiling for a good while when you show him and send the sweet fanarts !

You then show him ship arts and he just giggles at some of them (like the ones with malleus’ mom) and says “I wish hehe” and things of that nature

He seems really chill about certain ship arts (after all it’s with malleus’ mom most of them so ofc he likes them or thinks they’re silly) and even compliments the drawings at times :)!

Once you show him the weirder fanarts he just laughs uncomfortably before only letting out a few giggles. He’s not surprised he got these types of fanarts, after all if there were tame and wholesome ones of course there’d also be these types. So he doesn’t really care he just shrugs them off

tbh you thought he’d have a different reaction but oh well!

He also asks you if there’s any fanarts of baby malleus or silver so that he could show them to them !

you happily send him a few 😊