#and i know my quick sketches are a mess but I simply needed to get it out of my head ASAP xDD

[rudnitskaia]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MAU!!! 🥳🥳🥳

I tried SO HARD to have this ready in time but my week was so swamped 😭 and then I was hoping to get it done today but my Sunday ended up being super busy! Thought it’d slip it in here anyways just so you know I didn’t forget, my beautiful sweet Diggy, I just have very poor time management skills 😢 Love you! ♥️

Broski, I love you. I simply love you. My heart is melting. Mau in your artstyle is simply gorgeous. So gentle, so... her? Thank you for this amazing gift, I'm indescribably happy. Don't you dare to apologize for anything, I'm only honored you took time to draw a gift for me! You're my precious honeybun and I will always take care of you and carry you in my arms. ✨💖🥹💖✨

But when I saw the label of the bouquet I thought: "Where Rocky could possibly get such a stunning bouquet??" My variants were:

From Nina's garden (he would've been dead already xDD).

Accidentally stumbled to it in some dumpster.

Took from some grave on a cemetery.

Ooooor...

...this. xDD

Forgive me for this. I had to.

[makaias-trashheap]

(So this was a request from my other blog. My first blog was originally for this green haired tsundere before I expanded it so he always has a special place in my heart)

Mira sighs in frustration at the blank page in her sketchbook. Her most recent assignment was just to sketch a male portrait and for some reason she was struggling with it. She’s looked up multiple reference photos to use for inspiration but hasn’t been happy with any of her previous drawings. She glances at her phone when she gets a text from Midorima asking if they were still meeting today. She replied with a quick yes saying she was home and to just come in the door would be unlocked. She put her phone down going back to her sketchbook attempting to start again. She was mostly through the basic outline when someone knocked on her door. She sighs putting her sketchbook aside and standing up already knowing who was at the door.

“You know I said you could just come in. I left the door unlocked for you.” Mira said opening the door.

“It’s rude to just walk into someone else’s home nanodayo.” Midorima plainly states fixing his glasses.

Mira rolls her eyes smiling and moves to let him in, “Come in. Excuse the mess.”

Mira followed Midorima into the apartment, stopping in the living room to look around. Being his girlfriend did not spare her the not so subtle judgmental looks he would send her way now and then. Like the one she’s receiving right now after seeing the crumpled up pieces of paper, pencils, and erasers that littered her living room floor and chair.

“I tried to warn you.” Mira simply shrugged, moving past him to start picking up the mess.

He stands there watching her another second before moving to help her clean up, occasionally inspecting the paper he’s picking up.

“What is all of this?” He finally asks, standing up and smoothing out one of the papers.

She turns her attention to him, “One of my failed attempts at my most current assignment.”

He looks back up at her from the paper, “Assignment?”

She nods. “Yeah I’m in art school right now and my class assignment was just a male portrait.”

“And it hasn’t been coming along very well I take it.”

“Not at all, technically they’re all pretty sound, but I just don’t like any of them.”

Midorima throws away the last paper and looks back to her, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Mira shrugs, “Not really unless you think you can model for me.”

At first it’s just an offhanded response to his question, but after a second of serious consideration she stops and looks at him.

He notices after a second and quickly shakes his head, “Mira no, that is not happening.”

“Hey you offered, come on, I’ve had art block all week so far and this is due in two days.”

He continues to stare at her for a second before sighing and looks away from her, “What do you need me to do?”

She smiles at him and looks around grabbing a chair and moving it by the window, “Just sit here and don’t move until I tell you to. We can take breaks if you need but I should still get it done today.”

Midorima nods sitting in the chair a little stiffly, “Like this?”

Mira looks over him and smiles, “Try to make this as natural as possible. And make sure you’re comfortable, you’re going to be in whatever position you choose for a while.”

He shifts a bit to get comfortable before turning back to her, “Is this ok.”

She looks at him again, picking up her sketchbook and charcoal pencils from the floor and moves to where she’ll be sitting to see how everything should look.

“Can you turn your head a bit more towards the light?”

He does as she asks, glancing in her direction for approval.

She smiles at him and nods, “Perfect, like I said if you need a break to stretch or use the bathroom or need something just let me know, I can always move my lamp by you if need be, natural lighting is usually better.”

He nods thanking her and then she gets to work on her drawing, working off of the outline she’d started before he showed up. A little over an hour into the process she looks up to check on him.

“Hey, still doing ok?”

He nods not moving from his position, “I’m fine.”

She smiles going back to work looking between him and the sketchbook. Mira stopped a bit later setting down the sketchbook and pencil.

“You can go ahead and get up and stretch. I'm taking a break for a second.”

Midorima nodded getting up and stretching, “Are you nearly finished?”

Mira looks down at her sketchbook and nods, “Just about, mostly just shading at this point. Thank you again for helping with this, I really appreciate it.”

“Just don’t expect it to be a common thing to happen.” He grumbles looking away from her.

She smiles and goes into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for both of them before going back into the living room. He takes the water nodding thanks.

“Ready to get back to it?” She asks taking a drink and setting her water aside.

He nods setting the water down and getting back into his chair. She settles back down getting situated to start drawing again. She looks over her drawing as she finishes and looks up at him.

“Alright you can get up now, I’m done.”

Midorima gets up and stretches again and then comes over to look at the drawing.

She looks up at him and smiles, “What do you think?”

He looks over her shoulder down at the drawing, “It looks good, I’m impressed.”

She looks up at him and smiles, “Thanks. I actually have something to turn in now.”

She closes her sketchbook and looks at the clock, “It’s getting pretty late, I’m sorry I kept you here for this most of the day.”

He looks at the time and shrugs, “I planned on spending most of the day here anyhow. So I guess how it was spent doesn’t matter much. I should head home though, it’s getting late.”

She nods towards the kitchen, “Did you want to get something to eat before you go?”

He shakes his head, “That’s ok, thank you though. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

She smiles and nods walking him to the door, “I’ll see you soon.”

She leans up and kisses him on the cheek, causing him to blush slightly and grumble before quickly kissing to top of her head and rushing out the door saying goodbye. Mira chuckles closing the door behind him.

[crayonkant]

The Hell of Envy

On the shelves of my physical home there is a great number of blank journals. Different sizes, papers, and intended uses. They are blank because I suffer from choice paralysis: "ah, I've been churning this thought / image / emotion for a while now, it's time to get it out of my head. But where should it go? This notebook is the place for quick sketches, and this one for very private matters, and this for stuff that i think it's interesting enough to share with others..." It doesn't take long for the scrutiny necessary for proper categorization to block any emerging expression.

After keeping my digital footprint to a minimum for years, I now have a rapidly increasing number of social media accounts due to an absurd but powerful crush on an artist. The challenge of matching content to medium has thus increased. As an additional difficulty, whereas I know my papers, I'm not familiar with the norms for the different platforms. Is it obnoxious to post a very personal reflection on Tumblr, and expect someone, anyone, to react and engage? I have no clue - I guess I'll find out!

So here it is, the stuff I wanted to say, and someone to hear.

Not long ago, I was able to put a label on a feeling of unhappiness that has been bugging me for almost a year: envy.

Without anything momentous happening, I've had a gradual realization of how very average I am in my abilities and my aspirations. Not that it should have come as a surprise, since I'm well into adulthood without having achieved much; but I must have held the belief that accomplishments are not the full picture of a person, since at some deep level I felt myself to be a special treasure. I was aware of my limitations, but managed to successfully ignore them by carving out a smaller space for myself inside them, so that they didn't bother me. An easy example: as someone with poor hand-eye coordination I'm terrible at playing ping-pong; however this was never an issue, because I don't care about being a ping-pong champion.

As it turns out, I do care about a lot of other things: publishing critically acclaimed books, enjoying the freedom of travel, meeting new people, making stuff that others are interested in, being eye-catching, having sexual magnetism, speaking and reading five ancient languages and another five modern ones, .../../.. etc. etc. It's quite a long list! And if these things didn't happen, it's not because life simply took me in a different direction; it really is because _I_ don't have what it takes. Not enough smarts/talent/courage/persistence. But other people do: on the scales that I care about, they are better than me. And seeing that truth hurt.

I could not whisk my disappointment away by becoming the fox who tells herself that the grapes she cannot reach are sour -- after all, I wanted the grapes in the first place because I was convinced they were sweet. I also could not find comfort through that one super-special valuable trait that belongs to a lucky few including me and compensates for everything else that's lacking -- I simply don't have such a thing.

For a while I just stewed in the amorphous bitterness of my chopped up self-image, until, eventually, some primordial instinct of self-preservation shook awake and mutated that mess of feelings into an emotion I could recognize and name: envy.

I was happy to discover that because envy has an antidote, equanimity: living by the truth that at some fundamental level - which perhaps is culture/belief/worldview dependent - all human beings are the same.

I struggle to define what this "same" should be. At first I was seeking to find the "correct definition", one which would be universally agreed on. Then I started to think that it does not really matter if someone disagrees with me on what makes a human a human. I don't need to convince anyone else. I just need to find whatever medicine works for me. And for me, right now, what makes all humans the same is that we all die, and at some point in our life we all feel the fear of death; we all have to breathe, to drink, to eat, to move; we seek companionship, purpose, praise; we feel lust, loneliness, envy, pride. This list is really very long too! Which is a good thing, because practicing equanimity is hard, and at different times different thoughts will make it easier.

It would be nice if one could escape once and for all the hell of a strong emotion: get out, and lock the gates behind. Alas. I still have moments of torture when a vise tightens around my heart until all that remains is self-loathing; but also, thankfully, moments of peace, when I can sincerely admire other people's accomplishments knowing that I will not be able to do what they do, no matter how deeply I desire it. I just have to keep practicing; as long as I have the medicine for what ails me, it would be a bit silly to complain about having to continue taking it.

[shadesofnavy]

Could I have some confirmation that Bounty Pico survives in that betrayal post? Please?

Don't get me wrong. I do feel a little bad for Bounty Keith since betrayal from a loved one will always be one of the most painful to experience, especially after all the shit he went through.

However, from what I gathered from both the lore post and some of the recent art you've posted, Bounty Keith's not quite the most stable person out there. The man has, after all, managed to unintentionally become an infamous criminal due to his instability. Temper does contribute quite a bit, yes, but I believe the unstableness contributed a tad bit more here.

As much as Bounty Keith will no doubt hate to acknowledge, he IS a danger to be around for others- not simply due to the risk that always comes with associating with criminals but also because there's always that terrible possibility that he might harm others, even his own friends and loved ones. That recent art where he's choking Pico - one of his very loved ones - while the poor guy is clearly pleading for him to stop while he's struggling to breathe only further proves my point.

So yeah. I hope Pico will come out okay. Betrayal is shitty and I will always feel horrible for Keith that it happened to him- but this further backs up my point that he's a danger to be around. I don't know if Pico is the one who betrayed him but if he was... well... I don't think he would've made the choice lightly. Something which I feel Keith would understand had he been of a more stable mind.

Rest assured, both Cherry and Pico will make it to the end (more or less... what is "end" here actually?😫 ) so he will survive the attempted manslaughter.

Throughout the years, Keith has fallen into a habit of lashing out whenever he feels threatened or overwhelmed as he can't find other relieving ways to cope. He's also quick to notice subtle changes in people too--simple small alternating behaviors that one wouldn't notice at first, the faint tremble of uncertainty in a voice, the look of doubt in a gaze. When you combine all of those together and end up in a situation when something is after you and your closest most trusted people are acting afraid of you, he's overwhelmed. He's petrified, he's anguished, he's angry. Completely unstable to the point where he can't stop himself even when someone's screaming in agony at his hands. When even Pico is begging him through terrified tears and wheezes as his air is painfully cut off.

Keith is a danger to anyone who treads around him intentionally or not. A Pandora's box waiting to open, and when it does only the snapping of bones in his palms can close it. In his eyes there is no good or bad in life. He can't tell the difference between either of them. All there is in his world are prey and predator. He won't allow himself to become prey, so he makes himself the predator to survive. He considers Pico and Cherry prey that shouldn't be hunted, because he needs them. He loves them. So it only messes with him further when he notices something's off about them. When they betray him.

As for which of the two actually betrayed Keith... I'll reveal it with the sketches.

[marketingprofitmedia]

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[muggycuphead]

weird flex but ok i guess pt.34

33

War…Hold up, do we really need a warning for this one? Dunno, but however, watch out for slightly disturbing and kinda…disgusting imagery, trypophobic patterns, as well as ‘necrotic’ (and dark themed) designs I made while having funky fever bc o h m y g o d do I get a little crazier every new quarantine day (and at this point it’s coming to be an usual thing for me, big sad). However, most are made no other than for the sole sake of satire, so y’know, no need to get your underwear in a twist

Friday Night Funkin’ BoyFriend’s Hood – AU fanconcept sketches [XXIX]

Ladies and gentlemen, the time we been all waiting for

Pico taking part on the plot wooo

…although again, it’s a rewritten event that separates from both FNF and PS:LCA storylines so prepare for the dumpster fire I’m about to unleash (man am I real insecure when it comes to writing characters I don’t know that deeply, let alone newgrounds characters altogether, vomits)

1. Out to catch the train on my own

Week 3 references? Week 3 references indeed

There isn’t much dialogue here, just BF going to get the metrotro after going out of school (bro came out late bc night turn wowza)

Though the events might be happening a few days after Pico day (can’t specify the year, rip), hence why Pico would be there in the first place

2. Watch for spikes!

(On his way to the train stop, BF notices someone close to his trail) (Startled) “Oh shit!” (BF quickly jumps with his skateboard and leaps above the someone waiting on the stop, landing on the other side, panting a bit)

Can someone please make a joke about skating games I’m out of lines here, help

3. Taking Ls…?

“Boooo… that sucked ass”

(BF looks baffled and annoyed, as he just stands up, holding close his skate with his foot) “I was trying to avoid hitting your ass, bozo”

Jerky Pico for no reason hehehehe…jk

4. Messing around

(The ginger fella walks close to BF, slightly elbowing him as he chuckles) “Ay, I’m just messing with ya, bro! Won’t lie, that was good quick thinking back there. Not that it would have done anything to me, I’ve been gone through worse blows myself, a skateboard hit is of the last things I’d worry about”

(BF smirks) “You’re of the looney ones, aren’tcha?”

(The fella retorts) “More like of the mad ones a bit, but yeah, that could sorta work too” (Looks at him with a raised brow) “Lemme guess, you aren’t from around here, are ya?”

(BF wonders in confusion) “Uh, not really, why’d ya ask?”

(The fella chuckles) “Ah, nothing, just…occasionally people from here that come across my way either go crazy and wow…or simply try to kill me on the spot; last one kinda sucks but -hey!” (Shrugs mid discourse) “It comes with the job after dealing with school shenanigans that go further from mere bullying feuds”

(BF connects the dots with the keywords) “Hold on, wait –No way! You…you’re that Pico guy from the school shooting news from years ago?”

(Pico winks at BF) “Right on the moolah, pal”

(BF is even more baffled) “Nooo, you kidding! You kidding!”

(Pico laughs) “Nah, I’m for real here! Did ya think I was someone else or what?” (Pico makes a gesture with his face) “Don’t worry, this ain’t no Convict behind this body!” (Pico goes for sarcasm) “And even so, it wouldn’t be as good-looking as me, don’tcha think?” (Pico winks again)

(BF laughs at Pico’s mess-a-round, yet is still kind of shocked) “It ain’t that! It’s just…why’d ya come here anyway? Though you’d have your own car and stuff despite…well, y’know”

(Pico shakes his head) “Nah, don’t trust driving at night that much, plus it’s kind of hard to focus on the way cuz, y’know…” (makes a gesture on his head, signing his stature while frowning) “Being this high”

(BF gives him a ‘true bro’ look) “Guess that makes it two of us, eh?”

(Pico offers his fist to BF) “Yep, welcome to the dwarves’ club bro”

(BF brofists Pico) “I was already a member myself, nice to meet another one of the crew”

(Pico chuckles to BF’s response) “Heh, I like your vibe, dude! Say, wanna chat a bit while we wait for the train here?”

(BF nods) “Sure, why not? It ain’t like we’re gonna get startled by any weird clones from outta nowhere, hehe…” (Nervous) “…hopefully”

(Pico pffts) “Even if they do, I’ll just hand them their asses back to where they came from”

Big bruh moment, send help I feel like I don’t understand pico writing and I hate miself fo it, I apologize to the fellow pico fans lord help me-

5. Meeting Newground’s star gunman

“So, what’s your name, bro?”

(BF makes a ‘tip’ with his hat) “BoyFriend, BF or B for shortie, pleasure to meet’cha”

(Pico chuckles) “Boyfriend, huh? Now that’s a peculiar name to give to someone”

“Yeah, although it was more of a ‘funny accident’ when it comes to know why”

“An accident? So you weren’t meant to be named BoyFriend in the first place?”

“Nope. Long story short, the people in charge of my birth certificate or whatever had the name comprehension of a Starbucks employee with a really bad hearing skill, and they ‘telephone-game’-ed the name my parents wanted to give me into well, BoyFriend... And well, here we are!”

“And you don’t have anything against that? Since, well…y’know”

“Nah, honestly it’s not a big deal to me at this point. Heck, even my parents thought it’d be awkward for me back when I was a wee boy, and I didn’t really care that much about it even when I knew what it actually meant. If I did, I’d have changed it a long time ago.” (BF gets smug) “Besides, it’s quite a nice ‘icebreaker’ when you hang out with the ladies” (BF winks at Pico)

(Pico laughs) “Hah, I bet it is!” (Pico gently punches BF on the arm) “Still, gotta admire your resilience on that! Wouldn’t wanna know how it was back at your street when you were around the others, little fellas can be nasty for sure, I’d know”

“Eh, it didn’t really come to it that often, and even if it did, I got my own guns to deal with it” (BF vacillates) “…Figuratively speaking of course, unlike ya, hehe”

(Pico smirks) “Hey, don’t sweat it; guns might do most of the job when stuff takes a turn for the worst, but diplomacy’s way of a better option honestly in more than one sense…unless you go to Nevada. That’s a whole different story”

(BF nods in understanding) “Yeah, can guess why considering the stuff I’ve heard from there”

Bangitty

[reidgraygubler]

potato chips and cupcakes

Title: potato chips and cupcakes Request: Yes! Couple: Chip Taylor/Autistic!Gen-Neutral!Reader Category: fluff Content Warning: none that i can think of! Word Count: 1,510 Summary: Reader is oblivious to Chip’s flirtations, until he asks them out A/N: another request i stole from pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins) thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I really liked spending time with Chip. Nothing really had to be said between us and that was okay. We just enjoyed each other’s company in silence, and it didn’t matter what we were doing. A lot of the time we would be knotted up in each other on the couch while he watched a movie and I’d draw. Or I’d be outside reading while he was doing yard work. And it felt like we were always with each other no matter where we went. Unless it was to the bathroom or shower, that’d just be weird.

Now the reasoning behind that was…. Chip was just my safe person. He watched out for me and helped me in areas of my life I didn’t realize I needed help with. Mostly yard work… And housework… And handiwork… Basically, anything that required any sort of tool, Chip helped me. Of course, I tried fixing the issues first. But he’s usually quick to my side to help and fix it quicker than I could.

We were roommates without actually being roommates. We each had our own place, but he always insisted on coming to hang out at my house. I never knew why, I just let him. I like my house anyways. I knew where stuff was, and besides, I had a pool. And that was fun to be in when it was hot out. I just liked spending time with him, and I think he liked spending time with me. He was my best friend, and, well, my only friend.

“Hey we should get drinks together,” Chip said as he stopped cleaning the pool to look at me. I paused what I was doing and looked at the drawing on my screen.

“I mean, I’d just get drinks with you if you just went,” I said as I looked away from my tablet. “It’s pretty hard to leave your side, Potato Chip,” I laughed as he looked back at me. We stared at each other for a moment before he went back to work and I went back to drawing.

“But I mean, like,” he started again after a minute. I looked up from my sketch and looked at him. He was staring down at the pool as he thought hard. “You know what, nevermind,” he shot out and shook his head. I stared at him for a moment, sensing something was definitely wrong.

“No, not nevermind. What’s wrong? If you want to get drinks, Chip, we can get drinks,” I said as I closed up my tablet and stood up. Chip was quiet as he watched me walk over to him.

“It’s not just wanting to get drinks, Cupcake,” he started to explain as he pulled the pool skimmer from the water. I stared at him as he held the tool beside him, and as he ignored the dripping water.

“It’s not?”

“No! It’s not,” he said a little too excitedly. I jumped back a step and stared at him. He dropped the pool skimmer, letting it fully fall into the water and sink to the bottom, before pushing his hands through his hair. “It’s not just getting drinks. It’s sitting down, me getting you a drink, and talking in a different way than we have been. It’s not just getting drinks, Cupcake!”

“I-I’m confused,” I stated honestly. Chip looked at me before looking down at the pool.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as his eyes met the skimmer. He looked back at me, noticing that I was simply just staring at him. “Just… For right now, just forget it. We’ll talk about this when we’re not outside in 100-degree heat and I’m not working.”

“You don’t have to clean my pool, Chip. I can get someone else to do it.”

“No, no I do have to clean it. Because no one else in town will do it the way you like it. And they’ll come in and make a mess and move things around. That’s why I’ve been doing your housework and yard work because I know you like things a certain way,” he explained as he began toeing his shoes off. I watched as he stepped onto the ladder and entered the pool.

“Chip,” I laughed lightly as I followed him over to the ladder. He looked at me and bite down on his teeth. I laughed again as soon as I realized that the water was probably very cold. “Chip, get out of the pool. You can get the skimmer later. You don’t have any clothes.” “Well, it’s too late. I’m already in the water and I’m already wet.”

“Fine, if you won’t get out,” I paused and looked down at my shoes as I kicked them off and pushed them to the side. “I’ll get in.”

“No! Cupcake!” Chip argued back. But it was too late. I had already jumped into the water and was totally submerged. Once my head was above the surface, I swam over to Chip and clung to his side. He looked over at me with a glare. “Now you gotta change.”

“What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you this upset because I jumped into the water.”

“That’s not why I’m upset.” When he finally realized that I wasn’t leaving his side, he wrapped his arm around my body and made sure I stayed close to him no matter what. I smiled when he held me closer because I really wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

“Okay, then why are you upset?” I asked as my arms went around his neck. Chip swallowed roughly and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. His lips parted, only to close a second later. I wished for a moment I knew what he was thinking of. But then he opened his mouth and started talking.

“Because you’re clueless. And you’re adorable when you’re so clueless because you just don’t know what I mean by ‘We should get drinks together’,” he concluded and looked over at me. I stared at him with wide eyes, a little shocked by what he said.

“Did you just flirt with me?” I asked as I tried to move away from him to get a better look at his face.

“Have been for the last couple of months, but thanks for noticing,” Chip muttered. I stayed quiet for a minute and shook my head.

“No, but… Wait. When you asked me to come over to watch a movie was that a-”

“A date? Yeah.”

“And that time for-”

“Drinks? Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything when you invited your friends though,” he explained as he looked away. I sighed deeply when I realized that was why everyone basically stopped talking to me after. I invited them to crash a date.

“Ohmigod, Chip! Why didn’t you say anything?!” I shouted right at his face. He laughed as he pulled me closer to him. I didn’t try to get away from him. I stayed exactly where he wanted me. Granted, I wanted to be right beside him.

“I-”

“Wait!” I shouted, cutting off his response, “Do you like me?!” I could feel a blaze grow across my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. Chip stared at me before laughing lightly. I looked at him and could feel my face get hotter.

“I mean, why else would I be asking you out?” he retorted. I stared at him and shook my head.

“Okay, why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked. I didn’t realize I was messing with his damp curls till he reached a hand back, and pulled my hand around to be in front of him. A small smile grew across my lips as he interlocked his fingers with mine.

“I don’t exactly have a good track record of telling people I like them…” His words trailed off as his gaze fell to our hands.

“That’s fair! But you gotta be blunt with me! Stuff like that goes right over my head!” I laughed as I waved a hand over my head. Chip smiled and finally looked at me for the first time since I jumped into the water. “Is that why you like spending so much time with me? And why you come over so much? And why you insist on being the one who fixes something in my house whenever it’s broke?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. You’re the first person I’ve liked like this in a long time. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Well, Potato Chip! I don’t think you have to worry about that! I got the best security guard a person could ask for,” I shouted as I hugged him hard. He hummed a laugh before pressing his lips to the side of my head. “I like you too, Chip,” I whispered softly. “Now why didn’t you just say?”

“Because I’ve never had a crush on someone before.”

“Yeah, that’s a good reason to not tell me,” Chip laughed as he looked at me.

“But it’s nice to know you like me back.”

“Listen, I know we just had an endearing and tender moment, Cupcake, but I think we should get out of the pool and into dry clothes,” Chip said as he brought us even close to the ledge of the pool. I stared at him and nodded.

“I’m sure you’ve got clothes laying around my place anyway!” I shouted as I pushed off his body and to the ledge. Chip laughed as I pulled out of the pool and looked down at him. “Wanna watch a movie, not as friends?”

“We can watch a movie, Cupcake, not as friends,” he said with a smile once he was out of the water. “I’ll worry about the pool skimmer later,” he said as he waved his hand down at the water. I looked at him and smiled.

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any thoughts or comments about this one-shot, let me know here!

[cow-smells]

Eli/Hawk x Reader: Changes

Request: Can you do a Hawk x reader where they are dating since a long time and y/n tries to handle with his change from Eli to Hawk? @sophiahardy912

A/N: Thought I’d write all cutesy lovey dovey fluffy smutty things but then this angst came out? sorry if i failed you idk what happened here

Words: 2054

Warning: A few cuss words

----

Eli wasn't... Eli anymore.

Not just in a metaphorical way – he was Hawk now, inside and out. At first it was a refreshing change – you loved Eli back when he was introverted and lacking in confidence, but now Eli loved himself, and that was surely better.

    Confidence is a good thing. Right?

You remembered the day he texted you 'Dig it?' attached to a photo of him – classic brunette gone, dyed down and gelled up to a Blue Mohawk.

The phrase 'dig it' by itself was previously foreign to the boy, so of course the new bold hairstyle was a big shock for you. Not a bad one, just unexpected. Even more unexpected was the new attitude that came with it.

When Eli walked up to you the next day at school, he adopted a strut that came with his new hair and attire. You almost didn't recognize him without one of the comfy sweaters he previously would wear, the ones you would steal borrow when you'd go over to his on date night.

    It had been a while since you had one of those date nights – Eli wasn't fond of spending too much time in public, always feeling like people were staring at his lip – so you'd often spend the night at his house, watching some horror movie late in to the night, laughing together at cheap, unconvincing productions. Or, even better – clinging to him when a movie really was scary, finding an excuse to casually entwine yourself around him. You loved how he would turn red every time, as though you haven't been together for a long time now.

The last date night you two had was... unusual, yet exciting all the same.

Eli had been Hawk for a while now, and things were taking a turn for the worse. At first it was nice – Eli would link your pinkie fingers together under the table at lunch, Hawk would put his arm around you as you two walked down the hallways between classes. Eli cowered when anyone would so much as look at him; Hawk would shut down anyone who tried to start with him.

You didn't mind it, so to speak, when he got in to a fight with his former bullies. You were worried, of course, but Hawk knew how to handle himself. He beat the shit out of them and after years of Kyler and co taunting him, it felt like fair karma at play. You were actually proud. Hawk came home on cloud nine that day and you were all for being his cheerleader; it ended up being a night of great celebrations.

However, these days he was getting exceedingly violent with anyone who would look at him wrong. It was one thing paying back those who wronged him, but the whole karate thing was getting out of hand; it came to a red line for you once you saw his treatment of Demetri, the only one other than you and Miguel who accepted him far before he accepted himself.

You two had gotten in to a serious argument, Hawk stating that Demetri's treatment is his own doing for being such a nerd, you telling him to grow up.

A couple of days went by with you giving him the silent treatment. Hawk thought he'd just slide in by you the next day at lunch, kiss you and everything would be fine – but you weren't having it. If he didn't mind throwing Demetri under the bus so quickly, how long until that was you instead?

Not talking to Eli proved harder to do than you thought. After so long together it was strange, suddenly having this wall between you two. It had only been a couple of days of you riding the bus to school rather than on his motorcycle with him and you already felt an insistent pit in your stomach that refused to go away, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with schoolwork and your other friends.

So unsurprisingly, when Hawk texted you asking you to meet him at an unfamiliar address, you agreed.

It was dark out – the only people you saw around the road you were going down were a couple of shady looking dudes, only obviously under the influence.

You checked your phone again to make sure you were going the right way.

    “You made it!”

Eli's voice startled you, making you look up from your phone. Illuminated by the blue florescent lights from the shop he stood outside of, he seemed... relieved.

    “Yeah,” you answered simply, your eagerness to make up disapparating in to an unconfident hesitation. “what are we doing out here?”

    “Look,” Hawk took one of your hands in his. “I don't wanna lose you. And if that means being nicer to Demetri or whoever of those dorks, whatever. I can live with that. But not without you.”

You hated how he knew exactly what to say, even if it wasn't prefect. It was enough.

    “You didn't answer,” you said, allowing a flirtatious tone to creep up. “What are we doing here?”

Eli smiled, a smile that was more Hawk than Eli, and pulled you in to the shop after him, knowing he was well on his way to winning you over.

    “This is my guy, Rico,” Hawk introduced, fist bumping the older man. Between the familiar name, funny looking chair and sketches on the walls, you knew exactly where you were and what was about to happen.

    “Eli?” you tentatively called as Hawk guestued for you to sit in a chair behind the funky-looking one. Rico adjusted said chair and motioned for Hawk to come over. Eli sat on the chair, his back to you.

    “You sure about this?” Rico asked, preparing ink on a side table. “Sure,” Hawk answered confidently.

Naturally, your curiosity got you up on your feet towards Eli's other side – of course you wanted to know what he was getting inked – but Hawk quickly protested.

    “Stay over there!” he scolded playfully. “It's a surprise.”

The machine started buzzing and even though it wasn't you who was getting anything done, adrenaline started rushing, making you a giddy mess, forgetting all about your previous fight. As needle pierced skin, you spent the time waiting making assumptions over what Hawk was getting on him – at first you guessed the Cobra Kai snake, later guessing Sensei Lawrence in a heart – a suggestion that made Eli laugh particularly hard, in that way that he used to laugh when it was just the two of you (this earned a scolding from Rico, who couldn't get the work done if his canvas was jittering about).

It must have been twenty minutes at best before Hawk rose from the chair and turned to you, gesturing to the new piece over his heart – a heart with your name in it.

Was it possible to have your heart sink and jump simultaneously? On the one hand, you were realistic, and there would probably come a day where he'd regret this – a thought that made you sick. On the other hand, it was the most romantic thing you've ever experienced, and it was unlikely for anyone else to ever top that.

What was done was done, so you shoved aside any negativity and allowed yourself to revel in the love you felt, showering Hawk with kisses that quickly turned in to a deep, longing kiss – until Rico politely suggested you take the show elsewhere.

    Apparently “being nicer to Demetri” meant ignoring him altogether, besides some threatening looks. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative, so you let go of it despite it seeming like Hawk was constantly on the edge.

You were ready for another date night – the first since the tattoo parlor – ready to get away from school and its drama, just to spend some quality time with your boyfriend.

Now that he wasn't shy anymore, he suggested going to see a film in an actual movie theatre, which was exactly what you were doing.

The two of you split up – you needed to go to the bathroom so Hawk stood in line for tickets. By the time you had come out you had lost sight of your boyfriend – the crowd around the ticket stalls had suddenly increased.

    “You looking for someone?” a male voice asked. Turning around, a couple of guys you didn't know were approaching you. “Think you'd have more fun with us.”

Just as they reached you, a hand grabbed your arm. You were relieved to turn and see Eli – but he wasn't even looking at you. His eyes were locked with one of the guys – you could feel the tension in the air.

     “Eli, no,” you whispered firmly. His grip on you tightened, moving you aside – but you weren't going to stand for it. You stepped in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he did to you. “You start something, I walk.” your voice was low, not wanting those guys to hear, but serious enough to make Hawk understand you weren't playing around.

With a grunt, he looked down at you, took your hand and walked away.

You optimistically thought the worst was blown over.

You and Hawk were waiting outside the theatre to be let in, chatting away when Hawk stopped you mid sentence with a kiss.

Another pleasant surprise about Eli's newfound confidence was how willing he was to show affection to you publicly, while before you two could pass off as acquaintances at best.

It was rather random but you accepted the kiss – even when he deepened it, getting closer to you, pulling you closer to him.

His hands started sliding lower.

It wasn't anything you haven't done in the privacy of your bedrooms, but to get that intimate in public, in broad daylight – it was too much for your liking.

    “Eli -” you called, pushing away from him. He didn't allow it.

Pulling your hips to his with one hand on your bum, his other went up to hold your chin, tilting it back to grant him access. He managed to hold you for a moment before you mustered up the power to push him a few steps away from you.

    Hawk was visually surprised – whether because of you or himself, you were unsure.

    “What the fuck was that?” you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down this time.

Despite trying so hard to become this new person, new Eli still had old Eli's tells – and a quick glance he threw aside told you everything you needed to know.

Following his line of sight, the two guys from earlier stood there, watching the scene unfold.

    “So that's what this is about?” you huffed. “some territory marking thing?”

Hawk struggled to gather his words, his bottom lip bobbing wordlessly a couple of times before he spoke. “Look, you didn't want me to take care of it out there, so-”

     “So you do whatever you want with me? Like I'm nothing?”

    “Y/n, you know it's not like that-”

    “So what is it like?”

When Hawk didn't immediately respond, you turned on your heel to the exit. Hawk followed you outside.

    “Come on, Y/n, you know I'd never hurt you!”

    “You just did!” you yelled back. “you... I don't know you anymore, and I say that in the worst way.”

    “What,” Hawk huffed, “you want me to go back to being a pansy? 'Cause that's not going to happen.”

    “You know what's the worst out of all this?” you asked, coming to face Hawk. “at first I thought it was cool, you being all tough. Seeing Kyler become afraid of you. I thought it was great. But now... Now I'm afraid of you.”

Hawk frowned, the realization dawning upon him. “C'mon...” he lifted his shirt to show the heart tattoo dedicated to you. “Doesn't this mean anything to you?”

    “Make it mean something.” you replied with a heavy heart, taking a step back and left, leaving Hawk standing alone in the parking lot.

[hangovercurse]

Live from New York

You’re hosting SNL and get close with one of the cast members

Request: “hi! can you do something about pete where the reader is hosting snl and throughout the week they’re flirting with each other but she’s unsure if they should date and he convinces her? maybe a combo of fluff/angst/smut? it can be whatever :,)”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to take that long on this one and then I ended up watching an entire documentary on the making of an SNL episode because I wanted to be as accurate as possible… someone stop me pls

Word Count: 2834

Monday

Despite being a swiftly rising actress, you hated being the enter of attention. You’d always gotten anxious as a kid when a teacher made you stand in front of the class for presentations or during first-day introductions. So being front and center in a room of 30 people who were all there to study and try to impress you was not something you found pleasant.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke timidly to the crowded room, people clapping from their spots on the floor or various couches around the room, “it’s great to be here.”

Lorne cleared his throat, “alright, let’s start with you, Anna.”

You looked around the room as a young woman pitched the first sketch of the night, listening intently to her ideas while trying to match faces with the names Lorne had given you earlier. Then your eyes locked with a pair of deep brown ones, the man wearing a soft smile on his face. He radiated gentle energy despite the tattoos you could see running down his arms.

The pitches continued with an air of lightheartedness and fun. You found nearly everything funny, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to cut any of the sketch pitches.

After a lull in ideas, Lorne announced that cast members could now pitch ideas for Weekend Update character appearances. The man you’d taken an interest in earlier, who you’d since learned was named Pete Davidson, pitched a new set of characters for you and him.

“You know those weird stoner kids in high school who were always hanging out in the parking lot and acted really weird and mysterious? Those characters who just give really vague answers to anything you ask and act like they’ve seen some shit when they have the most normal home lives.”

You giggled, knowing the exact kinds of kids he was talking about. Colin and Michael also chuckled, writing the idea down with some notes of their own. Soon after that, everyone went back to pitching regular sketches, Jost and Che pitching an unusual number of sketches featuring you and Pete.

After a few long hours, the session wrapped; everyone leaving the office space except for you and Lorne, “so, what did you think?”

You chuckled lightly, “you have some seriously talented people on this show, Mr. Michaels. I don’t understand how you guys write an entire show every week.”

“We all work very hard; I’ll tell you that. Now, talk to me. Anything you really liked or really hated?”

You shrugged, “you’re the comedy mastermind, I know nothing. But I thought that weird kids from high school bit was pretty funny.”

Lorne nodded, “So did Jost and Che it seems. Sometimes the kid has a good idea.” You giggled at his reference to Pete as “the kid.” He sighed, “anything else? I noticed you liked that proposal sketch.”

“Yeah, that one was super funny. I will say, I wasn’t too in love with the dad-teacher one, but I would have no problem with it being done with someone else as the daughter.”

Lorne and you spent the rest of the workday discussing the different sketch ideas that came up and gauging what type of comedy suited you best. Before you left, he introduced you to Donna, your dresser who would be helping you out throughout the week.

Tuesday

After a quick tour of the studio by Donna, you were given a list of cast members and writers who wanted to meet with you to get ideas about sketches. You first stepped into a small room with a desk and futon, Donna introducing you to Chloe Fineman and Celeste Yim.

Chloe smiled brightly at you, “okay, so we were thinking that we could do something where I bring you to a sleepover with some friends that you don’t know. But at some point, you try to go to sleep because you have a soccer tournament in the morning but everyone else is being loud and it turns into this big overdramatic argument.”

You giggled softly, “I love that!”

After writing with them for a while, you were whisked away to room after room, finally landing in Colin Jost and Michael Che’s office, where they were hunched over a computer with Pete.

Colin smiled at you, “hey Y/N, how’s your day been?”

“Busy, how are you guys?”

The men responded with variations of “good,” before Michael spoke, “I know it’s late, so don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you’re comfortable with.”

You shrugged, “what time is it? It doesn’t feel that late.”

Pete laughed, teasing Colin and Michael, “c’mon guys, don’t you know that the young people of New York don’t sleep?”

You giggled in agreement as Colin frowned, “I’m only 38, that’s not that old.”

“I’m only 26, Colin,” you said, laughing at the men.

Michael patted Colin on the shoulder, “Jost, we’re getting old.”

Colin frowned before clearing his throat, “anyways, we had a couple ideas for some sketches with you and Pete, if you’re up for it, and we wanted to hash out your weekend update appearance.”

You smiled and nodded, “yeah, that sounds great.”

The rest of the night (and into the early morning) was spent with the three men, eventually joined by Heidi Gardner and Kyle Mooney to work them into the scripts. A majority of the writing process was simply messing around with various sketch situations until someone found a joke that worked best.

Pete watched you carefully the entire night, doing everything in his power to make you laugh. You had no complaints, doing your best to not openly flirt with him in front of the rest of the cast (and failing quite miserably).

Wednesday

Wednesday was the designated day for the roundtable readthrough. You took a place between Pete and Lorne, who began the reading, “we’ve got 41 sketches so let’s get started.”

The table read was just like any other you’d been through; Lorne wasting no time between sketches to discuss or joke. You struggled with containing your laughter throughout the reading, trying to act professionally. It didn’t help that Pete was making jokes any chance he got, eliciting even more giggles from you.

The three hours seemed to take no time at all as sketch after sketch was read out loud. Every so often you would catch Lorne looking at you with an eyebrow raised, usually after you read one of the sketches with Pete.

After everyone was dismissed, you were led to Lorne’s office with the head writers and producers. There was a large wall covered in sticky notes with each sketch’s name written on one. Lorne turned to you, “what do you think?”

You scanned the wall, listing off some of the sketches that you really liked, though most of them were  great, so you had trouble narrowing them down.

Lorne let out a small laugh, “you guys noticed how she picked out the sketches with Pete in them, too, right?”

Your face went hot, immediately turning to face the ground. Colin and Michael chuckled, “we noticed,” the latter commented.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Y/N, just wanted to point it out to you.” Lorne teased before turning back to the wall and thinking.

You giggled, “you guys suck.”

As embarrassed as you were, your anxiety was surprisingly low. You had been worried about hosting since you got the invite, but the cast and crew had been nothing but kind to you. Even just being able to make jokes like this with the writers made you feel oddly comforted.

You worked on narrowing down which sketches to keep for rehearsals and which ones were going to get cut immediately, a job that was very easy for Lorne but very difficult for you.

Eventually you got it down to enough sketches that Lorne was satisfied and he sent out the list to the cast. He led you out of his office, “you know, you have a real affinity for comedy,” he told you. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about sketch comedy, but from that read through you seem to know what you’re doing.”

You blushed slightly, thanking him, “we’ll see if you’re still saying that on Saturday.”

He chuckled, “have a good night.” You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, running into none other than Pete Davidson.

“Hey, you headed out?”

You smiled, “yeah, just got out of my meeting with Lorne. Did you get a chance to look at the revised sketch schedule?”

Pete nodded, walking with you to the door of the theater, “yeah, I noticed you kept a lot of our sketches in there,” he bumped your shoulder, a playful smirk on his face.

A giggle rolled from your lips, “what can I say? We’re funny together.”

He raised an eyebrow, watching as you flagged down your taxi, “whatever you say.”

“Are you complaining about having to work with me?” You asked, opening the door.

He chuckled, “oh yeah. I am just dreading tomorrow.” Sarcasm laced his words, making you laugh.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Thursday

Donna ushered you around all day, making sure you were in the rehearsal space when you needed to be and supporting you from the side. This part of the process came naturally to you, as it was the most similar to rehearsing and filming on movie sets.

When you weren’t rehearsing a scene, you were hanging out with Pete. It was strange how easily you got along, your humors aligning almost perfectly. Not to mention he was a huge flirt and was making it more and more obvious with you. You flirted right back, earning looks of amusement from Lorne throughout the day.

The day was a whirlwind, and by the time you were able to go home, you were exhausted. Pete walked you out to the street again, talking about one of the sketches that went wrong earlier until your taxi pulled up. This time he opened the door for you and helped you inside, “see you tomorrow.”

You smiled up at him, “bright and early.”

Friday

After hours of rehearsing, you plopped onto the couch in Pete’s dressing room, where you had found yourself a home over the past few days, “I don’t know how you guys do this every week. I’ve been here for four days and I’m exhausted.”

Pete chuckled, “to be fair, you’re the host. The key is to try and only get one sketch into the show so that you don’t have to do anything during the week.”

You laughed, letting a comfortable silence fall over you. Pete studied you, taking in your tired appearance, “you’re doing great though, being a host. I’ve seen some people come in and try to take control of everything and then no one has fun. You’re really good at just letting the comedy speak for itself. Not many people do that.”

Shrugging, you responded, “I mean, I’m not a comedian, I’m just an actor. You guys come up with everything. I don’t know enough to try and control things around here, I just do what I can to make your visions come to life. I figured that’s what a host should do.”

Pete nodded, “yeah, but again, a lot of people want their SNL episode to look a certain way. You don’t seem to care.”

“I just want to have fun, honestly.”

He smirked, “are you?”

You looked up to him with a smile on your face, “definitely.”

Suddenly the speaker in the room rang out, “Y/N and Pete to main stage 1.”

Groaning, you lifted yourself from the couch, Pete watching you with amusement, “c’mon Ms. Host, we’ve got a show to rehearse.”

Saturday

The day was hectic; filled with rehearsal after rehearsal. Lorne and Donna made sure that you were comfortable all day, but you could feel the stress radiating from every inch of the studio.

Stronger than that, though, was the sense of excitement buzzing around everyone. You were fit into more costumes than you could count, all leading up to the final dress rehearsal of the night in front of the live studio audience.

Dress ran smoothly, but you could see Lorne cutting lines from sketches from stage out of the corner of your eye. Luckily, Pete distracted you from all the anxious energy. “I know Lorne looks like a psychopath, but that’s just what he does. Everything’s fine, don’t stress about it,” he said over dinner.

You chuckled, “thanks. I feel so out of my league this week.”

“I told you, you’re great. Everyone here loves you. I heard Lorne talking about wanting you back as soon as possible.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “yeah right, I’m never gonna do anything big enough to get me on this show again.”

Pete laughed, “you could always make guest appearances with me on the Weekend Update.”

“You aren’t sick of me already?” you joked.

After dinner you were paraded around by Donna, who got you into your style for opening monologue. She smiled at you through your dressing room mirror, “how are you feeling?”

You gave her a nervous smile, “terrified, but ready.”

The lady chuckled, “you’ll do great. I’ll be right offstage if you need anything.”

“Thank you, for everything this week.”

She squeezed your shoulders, “don’t mention it, though if you really want to thank me, go ask that Davidson boy out on a date.”

Your eyes went wide, “Donna!”

A chuckle rang out through the room, “what? I say it for your own good.”

She led you through a maze of hallways and tunnels until you were in place to walk onstage, the speaker announcing your name to the audience followed by cheers.

Exactly 90 minutes later you were gathered with the cast on stage, “thank you to Fletcher, Lorne Michaels, this amazing cast and crew, and thank you all for watching. Goodnight everybody!”

You turned to Pete, who was standing beside you and let him pull you in for a hug, “you did it!” he cheered.

You passed around the cast, giving hugs to as many people as you can before Lorne announced, “that’s a wrap on Y/N Y/L/N and Fletcher!”

Everyone cheered, clapping for you and your musical guest before heading to their dressing rooms to change into their night clothes. You went back to your own dressing room, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of accomplishment.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, “come in!”

Pete entered the room, a wide smile on his face, “congrats!” You let him pull you in for another hug, “so I know that there’s supposed to be this big party after the show, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner instead?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, those words being the last thing you expected to hear from him. Of course, you wanted to say yes because you did, truthfully, really like him. But part of you was hesitant.

You’d dated your fair share of celebrities, and things always ended very publicly and typically poorly. On top of that, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be happening a bit too quick. You started to doubt that he would still have feelings for you in a week since he wouldn’t be around you nearly all the time.

And then there was the issue of your insane work schedules. Having just lived through his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep a relationship like that.

“Pete, I think you’re amazing and I really like you, I just-“

Pete nodded his head, cutting you off, “I know we only met like a couple of das ago, but people go on dates with literal strangers all the time.”

You sighed, “it’s not that, Pete, it’s just that…” you paused, searching for words, “things like this tend to be very public with me, and I really don’t want to have a relationship where there’s all this pressure by the media to be perfect.”

He shrugged, “I get that, but it’s just dinner. And we can go somewhere quiet and private, no one has to know. And if things go further then we’ll just keep it on the down low until you’re ready. Trust me, I know what a public relationship is like, I’m not a huge fan either.”

“Yeah, but what about your work schedule. I mean, I’ve only lived in your world for six days and I want to sleep for a month. How do you even hold a relationship on this schedule?”

Pete moved closer to you, fingers grazing your arm, “we can make it work. I promise. Just give me one date, and if it’s not the best first date of your life, you have no further obligations to me.”

You giggled lightly, leaning into his touch, “I’m only saying yes because you’re kinda cute.”

He smiled down at you, eyes twinkling, I’ll take it.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

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

It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

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

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

[uramichislefttiddie]

Blue lock random head cannons (:

||Contains: Meguru Bachira, Yoichi Isagi, Rensuke Kunigami||

||Warnings: fluff if anything||

Meguru Bachira

No matter if you have long or short hair, he will always want to style your hair for you wether that ranges from dying it to just simply tying it up or curling it etc. However most of the time he will want you to style his hair after he’s done yours, he especially loves the feeling of your fingers messing with his hair. If your sat down doing something always expect for Bachira to rest his head in your lap waiting for you to comb through his hair with your fingers and if you still haven’t done so he will start messing with your fingers hoping you get the message.

It was a late Saturday evening around the time dusk was settling into the day, the orange shade breaking through the pristine glass of the window that rested behind you and Bachira. You had been playing (choice of game) for the past few hours as Bachira was eating about the 3rd can of pineapple trying his hardest to not spill any of the juice anywhere as he fine well knew you’d make him clean it up and at that moment he’d like to avoid cleaning at all costs. You had started to slowly become bored, the silence now finally getting to you. As you turned your head to look at Bachira he was still stuffing his face full of pineapple. No matter what he always had that bright smile that had entranced you from the first day you both had set eyes upon one another.

“Bachira that’s the last can, you’ll make yourself sick soon!” He slightly turned his head in your direction, cheeks puffed with a small grin accompanying his face. You turned back to your game making a new goal of at least finishing this one level before doing anything else. After awhile still having not accomplished the goal you soon felt a slight weight on your lap, Bachira was staring up at you waiting for you to realise what he was wanting. You had known for awhile now that combing his hair was the easiest way to get him asleep. However you were very fixated on doing this one level and to your knowledge you had failed to realise Bachira was wanting attention.

Just as soon as you were about to compete the one level you had been struggling on a soft hand had grabbed at yours removing it off the controller and resulting in you dying once more.

“The hell Bachira! What was that for?” You hadn’t meant to shout at him but it was during the moment after all day you were so close to finishing what you had been wanting to finish.

“Ah, sorry y/n I forgot you were playing that, I’m really sorry!” You could tell he was sorry as he was looking at your with saddened eyes.

“Eh, it’s alright just please ask me next time that’s all you need to do.” You gave him a small smile as you laid his head back onto your lap and started to massage his head as he slowly closed his eyes soon falling to a soft slumber.

Yoichi isagi

Isagi is very skilled in art, at the beginning of your relationship he had a small sketch book he would carry about and inside that book unbeknownst to you was little doodling’s of you at different angles and at different locations you two would go together so he could remember these moments. After awhile being in the relationship he asked could he draw you to which you agreed and ever since than he loves drawing you when he has the spare time.

It had been about 5 month’s since you and isagi started dating, you was both sat down in the grass watching the sunset, both of you were occupying yourselves with things that interested you both, art being isagi’s. for awhile now you you felt as if someone kept looking at you, but you didn’t want to suspect that straight away.

“Hey…y/n can i- wait never mind it doesn’t matter.” Spoke a soft voice from next to you, you looked to the direction the voice came from and tilted your head in a confused state.

“What is it Isagi?” You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. He opened his mouth hesitantly and looked anywhere except from you. “Hey you can tell me you know?”

“It’s just I was gonna, well, ask if I could draw you?” You started to giggle slightly and looked at him. “Of course you can Isagi, you don’t need to ask me!” Isagi turned away shyly recounting all the times he’s done a quick sketch of you previously. He quickly smiled at you and turned around to grab ahold of his bigger sketch book and a few different pencils. He soon started to sketch you making sure to take into account all of the details on your face. About 20 minutes later he tucked the rest of the equipment into a small backpack and closed the sketch book, you turned a confused look to him wondering why he isn’t showing you, soon enough Isagi had caught onto your puzzled face. “Oh I’m going to give it to you on your birthday alongside with many more things!” He said with much enthusiasm and a big smile with puppy dog eyes. “But my birthday isn’t for a few more months!” You whined at him. He let out a laugh and shuffled to you and gave you a quick kiss. “Yeah exactly it gives me more time to make it the best for you!”

Rensuke kunigami

So in his trivia section is said the last time he cried was when watching E.T, so whenever you two end up watching movies he always hides the disc for E.T as he doesn’t want you to know he cries at the movie. To him he feels as if he has this certain image he needs to uphold. If you were to ever ask about if he has the disc for E.T he’d straight away make an excuse wether it’s believable or not like one time he made the excuse that “he dropped it in soup and it stained the disc” You had to just play along and believe him obviously.

As you walked back into the living room with hands full, consisting off a bowl of popcorn and two drinks of your choice, kunigami was across the room frantically searching for something within the pile of dvds he had in a glass shelf. “Hey kunigami, you alright over there?” You had questionably asked in his direction whilst placing down the products onto the oak table resting infront of the rather large couch. “Oh uh I was just trying to re arrange the dvds so it’s easier for you to choose one!” He quickly explained whilst scratching the back of his head and giving you a not so reassuring look. You decided to just ignore him and carry on setting up the movie night layout. Kunigami was starting to walk up the stairs making you even more confused with his behaviour. “Hey where you off to, your acting quite odd?” He halted in place and slowly turned around to face you with a surprised look plastered across his face. “Uh just going to the toilet quickly.” He carried on walking upstairs leaving you to pick out a film to watch. As you sauntered over to the shelf’s you started to scan looking for one specific you had been meaning to watch for awhile now, no matter how much you looked you could just not find it despite remembering seeing the dvd many of times.

Footsteps were heard behind you followed by two arms wrapping around your figure. “You found one to watch yet.” You soon started to piece things together and turned to him with a snark on your face. “Yeah where did you put E.T too kunigami? I know you have it so don’t pretend you don’t.” As soon as those words left your mouth his face dropped of colour and eyes went big. “Oh I…yeah I accidentally sat on it the other day and broke it in half, sorry y/n.” You started laughing and playfully pushed him making him look at you confused. “No need to hide the fact you’ve hid it, your sister already told me about the time you cried whilst watching it kunigami!” He stared at you for what seemed like hours but soon enough he let out a laugh and his cheeks accompanying a bright red tint. “Hey I told her to keep that a secret damn it!” He looked at you for a second than went running back upstairs and bringing down the dvd and waving it about in your direction. One second you had seen kunigami walking down the stairs than within a blink of an eye he had fell on the stairs laughing as he did so. “Well…here it is!” You ran over to him making sure he wasn’t hurt but not being able to hold in the laughter that was wanting to escape. “Hey if you cry, I’ll be right there!” You said almost mockingly. He whipped his head to you with an unamused look. “haha very funny but keep this between us! I don’t want no one else to know this.” You gave him one more look before walking over to slot in the disc for E.T to start playing, as you went to go lay down on the couch you turned to look at kunigami who was still situated at the bottom of the stairs where his fall had ended at. “Oh yeah thank you for the help!” He shouted whilst laughing, you soon laughing back.

[depressedacadamia]

Drunken Dares

Prompt + paring: Tattoo Parlour au, ‘night’ + Solangelo 

A/N:  Hellooo- i had the choice between a tattoo parlour au or a flowershop au but I'm already writing a pjo flowershop au so I thought I'd spice it up with a tattoo parlour au! I kinda wanted there to be a part two becuase I wanted a bit of bonding between the two so maybe if i remember, that may happen? Anyway- enjoy  <3 from phi phi!

Read on A03         Writersmonth 2021       Masterlist

“Do I really have to do this?” Will groaned slightly. It was late at night and here Meg was, pushing him in a tattoo parlour.

“Yep!” She hummed as she pushed him forward.He tripped over his own foot as he flung through the double doors. He was about to continue reluctantly before realising the short minion who had forced him here was no longer by his side.

He turned around and frowned. “ Meg? Why aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m underage,” She hummed.

“You know you can just stand to the side?” Will asked, a slightly desperate undettone to his statement which Meg noticed. He was begging her not to leave him in the scary dark tattoo parlour which was full of buff, scary people.

“Sorry- but I must not break the law!”

“Last week you happily started trying to drive my car!” Will yelled at the glass doors. Alas, his yells were ignored as Meg blissfully ignored him as she continued her walk home, leaving William Andrew Solace in a tattoo parlour.

What was he meant to do?Walk up to the guy at the counter and tell him that he wanted a tattoo? He should have never gotten drunk and played truth or dare- he should have known that the first thing Leo would dare him would be to taint his beautiful freckled skin. The worst part ultimately was the fact that he had to get it on his chest.

Perhaps the gods above saw Will’s freak out or perhaps Leo was simply being extra nice when he saw Will in the middle of the parlour looking so out of place it was painful but either way, the next thing Will knew, he was being taken by the wrist towards the counter by none other than Leonidas Valdez; the very bastard who had gotten him into this mess.

“I’m surprised you actually came,” Leo commented.

“Meg forced me,” Will grunted.

“So,” Leo sighed as he tapped at the cigarette in between his fingers, “ Do you know what you’re getting?”

“Uhh… no, not really., How does this work? You tell them what you want and then they stab at your body with a needle?”

Leo let out a small scoff which had smoke billowing out of his lips and nose as if he was a chimney. “ No, darling- they shave, sanitise and then they stab at your body with a needle.”

“That made me feel so much better.”

Ignoring the evident sarcasm, Leo simply smiled. “ You’re welcome, blondie.”

Wil, ruffling at his hair, mumbled, “Shut up.”

Leo, who was significantly enjoying teasing Will, was cut off by Piper- one of the last people Will expected to see at the tattoo parlor. But on a second look, the tattoos on her abdomen spiraling up to her breasts and arms made Will wonder why he never noticed them.

“Oh Will- you’re actually here?” Piper's surprised voice rang out.

“Unfortunately.”

“Well the artist is ready for you,” Piper ushered him towards the dark room, only illuminated by the UV lights.

Will visibly gulped. Leo and Piper couldn’t help but interlock eyes and snort a little- after all, it was simply adorable at how nervous this newbire was.

Will took small steps and the second he passed the door, it slammed shut.

What the fuck- do the doors here have a mind of their own?

“Come in- take a seat,” A voice commanded. Will, who didn’t really have any choice but to listen to what he was being told, fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was meant to be going. It seemed that Will, in his internal chaos, did not notice the tattoo artist's leg propped up to the side and therefore, when Will finally did notice the leg- it had been the hard way.

He tripped and the next thing he knew, his wrist had made a new best friend. Bruised and swollen, Will’s wrist heavily ached- forcing him to let out a small groan of pain.

“Fuck, are you okay?” the voice rang out. Will heard a relative amount of fumbling and heavy footsteps and suddenly the room was flooded with light.

The face that he was met with was not one he was expecting. The boy had mid length hair- while it wasn’t really long, it was flowing over the nape of his neck slightly and it looked like it really got in the way of his eyes. He watched as the boy seperated the pieces of hair covering his eyes, creating an effortless look.

His face radiated an emotion that Will couldn’t describe- sadness? Or was it simply the face of someone who was content with little?

“Are you okay?” The man asked. Will watched- he had never seen such dynamic expressions and the way this man's face morphed into an expression of concern had him wrapt with all.

Will could only nod stupidly, his hand still clutching at his bruised wrist.

“Dya mind if I have a look at that anyway?” The artist insisted as he grabbed a med kit and sat on his spinning chair before wheeling himself towards Will who now sat on the chair that he was originally appointed.

He gently cradled Will’s wrist between his fingers, turning it round and round. His face contorted between emotion of worry and concern.

“It’s okay,” Will re-assured . “ It’s not sprained or broken, just a bit of bruising and swelling. Should be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“You sure?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Ah,” He smiled slightly. “ I shouldn’t question you, Dr..?”

“Solace- but Will is fine. How about you?”

“Nico- Now let's have a look at what you want huh?” He closed the notebook he had been creating designs in before Will walked in and pulled out a collection of the most popular designs so far.

“These are the trending ones currently but I can always pull out something else if you want. Or if you have your own design that you wanted, I can try with it,” Nico offered. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.- once, twice and a third time before grunting and pulling out a different one. Will watched, hypnotized, as Nico lit the cigarette.

Nico looked up and caught Will staring and shyly asked. “ You don’t mind do you?”

“No… but you should try and refrain from smoking. It’s really, really bad for you and I say this as a doctor.”

“You’re the 4th person today who has said that.”

“I’m alarmed that you managed to smoke that many times today,” Will said with concern.

Ignoring what Will had said, Nico continued. “Anyway, have you chosen anything yet?”

Will let out a heavy breath. “ Ah, no. My friends kinda forced me here but nothing here really matches… me.”

“What about this flower? Or the skull? “

Will shrugged. “ I don't think I’d want those on my skin permanently”

Nico nodded and continued smoking, while Will flipped through the latest designs. Nothing seemed to catch his eye as much as something he could have sworn he saw earlier. It was a stylised sun tatoo- nothing necessarily special but it reminded him of his mum- and his home.

“Excuse me,” Wil started, causing Nico to put his cigarette down in the ashtray, “ I was just wondering if the designs in that were available?”

Will pointed to the notebook That Nico had closed earlier. He watched as Nico hesitated. His face seemed to be stuck between wanting to let Will sneak a peek but it also seemed to want to tell him to stop.

However, his hand simply made up his mind and shoved the book across the table in Will’s direction.

Daintily, with the utmost care, Will opened the first page and his eyes almost watered at the immense detail and beauty poured into these designs. It looked like the heart and soul of the artist had been etched into every little petal, every small ray and eventually after gaping at each page he found the design he had spotted earlier.

The sun wasn’t special but it held Will’s eyes so much that Nico told him, “ Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“This one,” Will pointed to the stylised sun, “ I want this one.”

Nico scanned his eyes over it before humming and nodding. He put out his cigarette and got up.

“Where d'ya want it?”

“Chest- left side,” Will blurted out. He didn’t know why he wanted it there- perhaps because he wanted the thing that reminded him of his mother to be as close to his heart as possible.

Nico nodded as he prepared everything. Then he turned to Will. “ You realise you’ll need to take off your shirt?”

Will blushed and looked away as he started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Meg had dragged him out of the hospital as soon as his shift had ended and thrown him into the tattoo parlour and therefore he was still wearing a crisp white shirt.

“Do I need to take off the whole thing?”

Nico took a quick look at Will. The sight that met his eyes was surprising- he used to seeing the chest of his clients but for some reason the sight of a very attractive and intelligent young man before him was very different. He seemed to be looking away as a blush graced his cheeks and ears. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Nico to see Will’s muscled chest.

How did a doctor have enough time to work out like that?

“Uh... just a bit more, I don’t want the needle to catch on the side of your shirt.” Nico reiterated, even though he was lying.

“Okay, so now, I'm just going to clean the area and then I’ll trace the sketch before tattooing it on. Do you want red or black?”

“Uh- you can choose,” Will sighed, desperate to get it done and over with.

Nico nodded. He slipped on some gloves and wiped at Will’s chest with an antiseptic. Will flinched at the cold wipe and the soft touch of the artist before him .

“Sorry,” Will murmured, “ It’s cold.”

Nico simply nodded as he began sketching the outline of the tattoo. Will tipped his head back, unable to meet the eyes of Nico ro even look at what was happening. He could feel the tickly touch of the pen on his skin and the soft brush of Nico’s glove on his skin every once in a while.

“All done. Now for the painful part. You may feel like you’re getting stung by a bee a lot,” Nico warned. “Try not move a lot, it will make it harder for me.”

Will, who couldn’t formulate words at this point, simply nodded. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but unfortunately- I need both,” Nico smiled as reassurance.

He heard the buzzing of the gun and braced himself. The needle poked and prodded as he expected and at times he did wish he had stolen some morphine from the hospital beforehand but all in all, he managed to get the tattoo without bursting into tears and without ruining hids tattoo.

“All done,'' Nico said as he covered the tattoo.

“When do I get to see it?” Will asked, curiously, happier that it was over.

“In a few days- it just needs to sink in.”

Wil sat there, unsure of what to do next. He had paid and was now just sitting in an empty room with his tattoo artist. Was he meant to just say goodbye? Wasn't that kind of harsh?

But Will realised, had this been anybody else or any other appointment- he wouldn't want to be staying for any extra time. Did he want to be friends with this guy? Maybe it was that- yes, it would be that. As someone who was socially awkward, Will knew that he liked hanging out with people; he simply wasn't very good at it

Just as he was going to ask for his number, Nico passed him a slip of paper. “ Here’s my number. Call me when you’re free.”

With that and a wink, Will was left in the empty tattoo room.

[bonny-kookoo]

Bad Girl (JJK x Reader) 🎀💜☁️🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Good Girl AU, slight angst, fluff and romance, smut, oh god there’s so much filth

Warnings: DD/LG themes, it’s actually a major part in this so if you’re uncomfy you can skip this chapter thanks, GG is scared to talk to Koo about it, Koo thinks the worst, life lesson to learn from this: talk about shit, cockwarming, Dom!Jungkook, like he’s actually pretty demanding this time, Sub!Reader, non-sexual spanking, Bratty!Reader, toy usage, more to be added if I get carried away writing again

Summary: Jungkook has gotten so used to you being the sweet angel you are all the time, that he’s actually a bit confused when you’re not. Are you unhappy with him? Or do you only need to be put back into your place again?

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban @teresaisla @tangledsparkles @dammit-jjk

Well, this was certainly new.

For hours, Jungkook had been immersed into the screen of his PC- yet he wasn't playing any video game at all. He was desperately trying to come up with ideas, new inspiration, as his mind was seemingly clogged up with random thoughts that didn't fit what he wanted.

Time to get his mind off of things?

Maybe, but Jungkook had ignored you almost the entire day already, the clock now nearing 4 in the evening. You promptly walked over to him, ignoring his attempts to tell you he did not have time right now, but simply seating yourself ontop of his thighs, taking your rightful place on your throne which was his lap. He bit his tongue as he closed his eyes for a second, refraining from saying anything you could take wrongly. "Baby, I have to finish this-" He started, voice growing a bit whiny at the end as his head fall backwards, chuckle escaping him at your struggle to open his fly while he was sitting. "As much as I love the idea I can't fuck you right now princess-" He said, but you shook your head.

"I'll wait then, I can be good." You stated, making his pupils widen at the way you said that. You pulled him out of the warmth inside his underwear, hands moving over the skin of his length as he slowly grew more firm inside your palms. You moved a bit, Jungkook helping you by holding your waist to make sure you couldn't slip off as he watched you curiously, pulling the fabric of your panties to the side as you began to lower yourself. He held you still before you could move.

"No no no wait, condom-" He said hurriedly, but you simply giggled, shaking your head. "Baby no, we talked about that-" He began again, but you looked at him with an innocent face.

"But we're not gonna do anything!" You said, and it dawned on him what you were trying to do.

Cockwarming?

He'd heard of it, Taehyung having told him once that he'd tried but failed, unable to sit still for so long. Yet for Jungkook this could be a challenge for himself to try and keep himself in check, to train his own will by simply leaving himself inside you. This would be the first time going bare, and he didn't want to mess it up. So he nodded, letting you lower yourself down on him, his member enterin you slowly, entirely new feeling as he noticed the way your walls welcomed him inside, warmth comforting in a way he could not describe. This was.. actually not that bad.

"Hm.. you're comfy baby?" He asked, and you nodded, resting your head on the inside of his shoulder as he held you, pulling his chair closer to his Screen again, mind now a bit more calm as he began to collect sketches and ideas more orderly, finally able to catch a decent train of thought. Sometimes you really had great ideas.

Again you'd bee searching for ways to tell Jungkook about things that had been bothering you. No, bothering wasn't the right word.. it was weighing you down, prohibiting you any kind of full forced happiness, because it always crept into the back of your mind, corrupting your thoughts with harsh visions of him calling you weird or even going as far as to leave entirely. After all, it was quite.. weird.

It wasn't like you were regressing into a full forced baby, no. You'd learned to take care of yourself even when you were falling into your headspace, knowing how to make yourself comfortable without any help of someone to watch over you. However, just like everyone else in this world, regardless of who, you craved to share these moments of full on vulnerability with someone you loved and trusted.

Jungkook.

It wasn't like you didn't trust him, but he was someone who'd put his own needs and interests behind just for you, and you didn't want that to happen. As selfish as it sounded, you wanted him to care for you because he wanted to, not because he felt as if he needed to do it in order to keep you happy. You could let go of it just to stay with him, if that was what it would take for you and him to stay together.

"Baby, I was gonna go to the store real quick, you need some..thing.?" His voice got a bit slower and died down eventually as you shut your laptop with quite the amount of force from being startled by him, making him furrow his brows a bit. "Everything alright?" He asked, now a bit more serious in tone as he could sense something off about you.

"Yeah! Sure, eh.. could you pick up some Milk? We're out of it almost so, uh.. yeah.." You said, smiling, yet without true intentions. Jungkook nodded, telling you goodbye as he put on his shoes, grim look on his face not diminishing at all as he thought about your behavior lately. It was quite worrying, how you now began to pick up on the habit of locking your phone with a passcode, not leaving your laptop open anymore, or how nervous you became every time he caught you on either of these devices.

What else was he supposed to think?

Weren't you happy with him? Had he done something wrong? He tried to think of something, anything that would explain you putting distance between you two so suddenly, yet he could not come up with something that would sound rational. And even with all the signs pointing towards it, he could not make himself belief you would genuinely go out and meet someone else behind his back; you were not like that at all. So what was really going on?

He almost dropped the milk carton in his hand as his phone buzzed, the message something that made his stomach drop.

'We need to talk.'

This was planned way better than executed.

Having Jungkook sit in front of you on the bed was making it even harder to just come out and say it. Every time your brain attempted to send the proper signals to your tongue, trying to open your lips to form words, they just wouldn't come out. It was as if you tried to drive a car with the breaks still pressed; it didn't work at all.

Yet you couldn't seem to loosen your breaks.

Jungkook sighed, running a hand over his face, as he took your hand into his, worried look on his face. "Look.." He began, and you watched him as his thumb gently drew circles on the back of your hand, his eyes averting your gaze. "If you want to break up-"

"NO!" You immediately said, loudly, startling both of you as you sat up straighter, grabbing his hand with both of yours, holding onto it as if it would disappear if you didn't. He looked at you with wide eyes, genuinely confused. That.. wasn't it? Then what had you so secretive and skittish lately? "I mean, except if you want to-" He smiled a bit, scooting forwards to have you closer, legs now on either side of his hips as you sat on his thighs.

"No, never. I thought you wanted to." He said, interlacing his fingers behind your back to keep you close, as he looked at you more calmly now. "But I know there's something you want to tell me." He hummed, trying to coax you out of your shell with a gentle tone of voice. It seemed to work as you visibly began to think. "It's alright, you can tell me anythi-" He started, but you cut him off.

"Do you know what.. uh.. you know, dd-lg means.?" You carefully asked, and his eyes widened for the nth time that day, looking at you with wonder. That.. that was what you were so worried about?

He simply nodded. "I know about it. Why?" He asked, even though now he had a hunch of what was actually the issue. It did explain a lot for him as he thought about all the instances you'd hinted at it in the past, never having the courage to actually say it out loud. "You're a little, is that it?" He wondered, and you nodded, looking down as he smiled gently, lifting your chin up. "Hey no, it's alright, really. I already suspected something like that, to be honest." He said, and your gaze finally found his.

"You did?" Weren't you secretive enough about it? Maybe he'd seen your search history, but then again, you were always so careful to only ever use incognito tabs and to always keep your phone and laptop close so he wouldn't accidentally stumble upon anything weird. Yet he proved again that you could hide basically nothing from him, as he smiled, absolutely not unnerved by any of it.

"Hmhm." He hummed as he visibly relaxed. "I mean it. It's okay." He said, and you fiddled with your fingers. "But that's not all there is, isn't it?" He asked, knowing what you wanted to ask, yet choosing not to take that burden from you. You needed to talk openly to him.

"I just.." You started, before looking at him. "So, you're like.. okay with it?" You asked, and he still smiled, while nodding to confirm your answer silently. "Would you.. like, you know.. take care of me, when I'm like this..?" You mumbled, and again confirmed, before verbally answering.

"I'll admit, I'm kinda.. uncomfortable with you calling me daddy though, if that makes sense, but I guess I'll eventually grow into it." He said, as you shook your head.

"you don't have to." You said, hugging him tightly as you began to rest your head onto his chest. "You'll just stay my 'Koo.." You hummed, as he chuckled, holding you close to him.

Yeah, he could definitely grow fond of that.

"No baby, we can't just order takeout all the time. It's not healthy." He argued, as you sat on the couch, pouting at him as you were getting ready to call back, just to have him turn around. "Don't even start young lady, No means no." He said sternly, making you deflate as you simply rested your chin on the back of the couch, shutting your mouth. Ever since you'd both agreed on the dynamic you now practiced, Jungkook had been slowly setting up more and more rules for you, some being more strict than others. You loved that, you were happy he was feeling comfortable with it, and deep down you knew it was in your best interest, yet you also only now realized how much freedom you'd had before. Yet even though you could feel the need to test your boundaries, you'd stayed compliant and a good girl until now.

Even though you were curious what he'd choose as punishments.

Jungkook had informed himself after your talk, silently learning more about what he should and shouldn't do. He was growing more and more into the role of an actual caregiver, having agreed to simply test things out instead of using someone else's rules or punishments as yours. Communication was key for you, and honesty as well; you were always free to tell him that you were feeling big, in which case your rules did not apply and you were free to do as you pleased. He trusted you to never use that as an advantage, simply believing in himself and his ability to spot lies on your face as soon as they'd leave your lips.

Something crinkling caught his attention.

"Y/n." He simply said, making you halter all movements as you cringed, caught in the act as you'd tried to open a pack of oreos on the couch, hidden from his sight. He'd heard you, however, and the way he called your actual name meant that he was everything but amused by your actions. "I believe we talked about having sweets before a meal as well." He said, feet stepping closer before he leaned over the couch, inked hand easily taking the sweet treats from your hands as you looked down your lap. Yet your toes wiggled in tension. Had you finally reached the end of his patience?

"Go and wait inside the bedroom until I call you out for dinner. No Laptop, and your phone stays here as well." He said, tone not leaving any room for arguments against his statement. Your lips turned downwards, yet you slowly complied, pulling out your phone and placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, before walking inside your shared bedroom, attempting to close the door. "No, leave it open so I can still hear you." He said, and you sighed, before flopping down onto the bed.

Yet you also smiled.

He slowly learned more and more about what was right, and what wasn't.

For example, whenever you were feeling small, you were absolutely oblivious to anything of a sexual nature, which made him come to the conclusion that your littlespace and subspace actually were two different things. It made sense to him, the way your gaze would change as soon as you'd switch mindsets was a clear sign of what he could and could not do.

Sure, there have been awkward moments as well, and you had been crying a few times from too harsh punishments such as time outs as well- but that was part of the learning experience for both of you. You'd told him that you genuinely never had an actual caregiver in that sense, which only stroked his ego even more as he realized this was another first he'd claimed as his. Even if it was without actually knowing.

He felt proud.

"Koo?" You asked, eyes wide open and watching him from the doorway as he read through an article about a convention nearby showcasing some of the best airbrush artworks the town had to offer. He turned around in his chair, patting his thighs.

"You're feeling small?" He asked, and you nodded, walking towards him as you sat down on his lap, hugging his middle the best you could as you tried to read whatever he was reading. Something caught your attention as you called out his name again, pointing at the screen where his name was actually written. "Yeah, that's me." He confirmed, smiling at you.

"Why?" You asked cursiously, genuinely wanting to know, yet your mind was hazy, making it hard for you to form proper sentences. He didn't mind.

"Koo 's gonna be there and show his work to others." He said, and your eyes looked at him in awe, happy that he'd actually been chosen to be able to show his talent. You wanted to congratulate him, yet the only thing you truly got to do was hug him tighter, mumbling something that sounded like the word 'proud' into his sweater as he grinned, running a hand over your back. "Thank you princess, I'm pretty proud of myself too." He hummed, before closing the tab, picking you up and letting both of you fall onto his bed, tired from the last days of work, trying to perfect what he would be showcasing the upcoming week. You giggled before moving closer, laying flat on top of him as he sighed happily, eyes closing as you both drifted off.

“Huh, so now you wanna be a good girl?” He grunts our as he pushes your wrists back onto the bed, denying you any physical contact you desire to have with him. He decides what you get, and you look at him with wide eyes as his dark ones stare into yours. “Well that’s not how it works sweetheart.” He mumbled, flipping you over so you were on your stomach, pulling your legs towards him to lift your lower body onto your knees, center exposed to him in a for you humiliating position. “You can’t just pull stunts like that and then try to wiggle yourself out of it just by batting your pretty eyes at me.” He said, voice dangerously low and steady. He seemed so calm that it showed how well he fit the role of the dynamic you’d discussed earlier. This was him, through and through. “What was that?” He asked as you mumbled something into the pillow below. He brought his hand down onto your bottom as you still didn’t speak clearly enough, making you Yelp.

“Said ‘m sorry!” You whined out, and his palm flattened out, soothing the still tingling flesh of your behind as if to apologize. He hummed, hands wandering until you could feel his fingers spread your lower lips apart, admiring your glistening center. You moved your hips a bit, only earning his hands on either side of them, holding you still.

“I don’t think you understand yet..” he said, as he unplugged the charging cable from the toy next to him on the bed, the device now charged. “You’ll have to do better than that.” He whispered, as he pushed the toy inside you excruciatingly slow, making you whine. He simply chuckled at that.

“Or don’t you want to be my good girl again?” He mused, turning it on as you squeaked, hands gripping the sheets underneath you as you gasped.

So how did you end up in this mess?

Well, it actually wasn't your fault at all. Jungkook had just been on edge that day, that was it, not the fact that you'd sneaked sweets into the bedroom to brighten up your punishments, how you'd 'accidentally' put one of his white shirts into the same wash your red underwear and dresses were in, or how you'd been throwing a small tantrum when he'd told you to stay seated and finish your meal. Peas were gross and he knew you hated them. You didn't get why he wanted you to eat them anyways.

So yeah, maybe you had felt particularly bratty today, but when you were little, he never punished you sexually at all- it was an unwritten rule not to take any sort of advantage of you while in that absolutely oblivious headspace. So how come this was happening?

Well, Jungkook was too observant for your own good, you'd realized.

Because in the midst of your impish tactics to rile him up, he'd noticed your demeanor change. Whenever you were little, he knew that you would eventually get tired more easily; you'd simply get boosts of energy before taking naps between them. You were also not that interested in being disobedient at all, only thriving from his praise and smile, never enjoying punishments at all. He knew something was off when you'd started to giggle every time he snapped at you, and his suspicions were confirmed when he'd spanked you in the middle of the hallway- earning a very different kind of gasp from you.

In subspace, things were quite different. You were completely sure of what you both were doing, knowingly and fully consciously giving your control up to him while being aware of what may happened. This was a different kind of headspace, where he was free to use and ruin you to every extend he deemed fitting.

And oh how he craved to put you into your place this time.

"I don't think I ever said anything about you touching yourself." He growled, free hand grabbing your wrists back yet again, holding them tightly above your head as you whined, craving a different kind of touch to a different part of you. He knew this, was very well aware of the fact that you could generally only reach an orgasm if you were being stimulated instead of penetrated, but that was his plan. This wasn't about you; this was a punishment, and about his own fun.

"hm, you think I could try and make you cum like this?" He sang almost, changing the settings of the toy still inside you to a higher one, making your hips stutter as you shook your head, trying to tell him not to, as he simply chuckled leaning back on his knees as he watched you squirm. "Huh, that wasn't a question baby." He said, beginning to move the toy before stopping, as he clicked his tongue when you tried to reach for it again. Three time's the charm, you guessed. He however was not amused, pulling the toy out completely as you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness as he flipped you over, pulling on your thighs to have your behind facing him, hand falling down onto it with force, making the skin sting and turn pink. "You really love testing me, don't you?" He gritted out, hitting again and again as you moaned into the sheets below, making him scoff. "I can feel you leaking on my thigh, dirty girl." He mumbled close to your ear as he moved you yet again, positioning you on your knees to present your center towards him embarrassingly, making you whine. "Oh you don't get to complain baby. You wanted this, right?" He said with fake sympathy as his fingers moved over your pearl, pace without any form of gentleness as your voice failed, simply breathing heavily as your hands curled into fists, holding onto the cotton sheets as if your life depended on it. The sounds made by his hand on your exposed cunt were absolutely obscene, making the tips of your ears turn red as he continued his pace, inked hand working on your most vulnerable muscle without any mercy.

Not even when you came.

You cried out, trying to reach him but failing due to his positioning, sobbing without tears as you felt something within yourself snap, Jungkook groaning out loud as he noticed the clear liquid bursting out, making his length ache as his free hand grabbed onto it, moving it leisurely at the scene in front of him. "There you go!" He exclaimed, letting you fall down as he turned you over, spreading your legs as you caught a glimpse of him, toned abdominal muscles glistening with your release as he pumped his length, condom already wrapped over it.See?" He said as he chuckled darkly. "You can be a good girl after all." He praised, making you smile a bit as your core clenched around nothing, still sensitive to anything that came close to it. His predatory grin told you however, that this was not over yet. Pushing inside you, you mewled at the sensitivity, as he hushed you, pulling you close by your legs as he began to thrust forwards, rhythmic pace easily found as his hand moved over your breasts, kneading them before his hands wandered lower, holding your waist as he continued, breathing heavily as he growled, head dipping down to bite and mouth at your neck, leaving your skin red on his way, those marks soon to blossom into heavenly shades of purples as he let himself go, mouth finally finding yours, stealing every breath as he kissed you with need, want, as if he wasn't close enough to you already. "Hah you're so sweet-" He moaned, kissing you again before letting your lungs fill with oxygen again. "I love you, I love you so much" He whispered, picking up his pace as he bit his lip, thrusts hard and shaking your body, the sound of skin against skin echoing inside the room with wet noises, yet both of you didn't care as he finally let out a breathy sound, head falling back as he came, before lowering himself again, catching his breath as he still moved lazily, riding out his high as you moved a bit underneath him, making him laugh without sound. "My good girl getting greedy?" He hummed, pushing himself inside of you and staying there, hand reaching between your bodies to find your sensitive bud, fingers drawing circles over it in well practiced motions that made you suddenly cry out, your walls clenching around his cock still nestled inside you, making him humm in oversensitivity.

"Thats okay.." He whispered, moving again as he huffed, sweat running down his temples as he felt himself overcome the almost painful feeling of his most recent orgasm, picking up his speed as a small laugh mixed in between his desperate tries to even out his breathing. His hair was getting curly from the moisture, falling over his eyes and giving him the sheer visuals of the devil himself, making you sob as you desperately tried to keep your hands away from him. "It's alright, you're so good to me, you can touch me, yeah?" He chanted, and you immediately took the invitation, hands reaching for his arms, holding onto them as if your life depended on it. He smiled at the sight, at the simply view of your tears dying down as soon as your hands got in contact with him again, mind now at ease again with his presence confirmed to your closed eyes. "Such a good girl, taking it all so well, so good.." He said, voice low and rumbling as he went faster, now feeling himself tense again, to his surprise. "Can you cum again for me? Just one more?" He asked, and you shook your head, although a bit unsure. "You can do it, I know you can, just one baby.." He pressed out between gritted teeth, breathing hard against your neck as his thrusts began to dwindle, growing more and more unsteady as he suddenly began to pick up his face, mouth opening before he bit down his lip, breath coming out of his nose as his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, hand desperately trying to reach your center, sloppily rubbing over it as you snapped yet again, hot white pleasure painting the inside of your eyelids it seemed as you mewled, holding onto him for dear life as he felt himself cum without spilling, your release however coating his thighs again, if not as much as the first time.

He fell down next to you after pulling out his now softening length, breathing heavily as he closed his eyes, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, both of you utterly and thoroughly spent. He wanted to take care of you, but all he could really do was tie a knot at the end of the condom after pulling it off of himself, tossing it into the bin, before pulling you close. He could do that after he'd taken a short nap. Right now his bones felt like rubber, his muscles aching in the most pleasing ways as he decided the cleanup could wait after recharging.

You noticed that you were being carried, before you slowly opened your eyes. The scent of laundry detergent filled your senses as you instinctively tried to curl closer to the soft material of Jungkooks sweatshirt, making him chuckle. "Baby you gotta let go, I have to change the sheets." He cooed gently, placing you on the couch as you simply nodded, fists uncurling as you simply stayed where you were, noticing the oversized sweater you were dressed in.

He did this generally after sex. He loved whenever you put on his clothes, yet after being close like this, it held a special meaning towards him, making him feel as if he'd claimed you.

You loved it.

Balling up the sheets in his arms, he began to throw them into the washing machine,open window letting fresh air inside the stuffy room as miri followed him, making him watch his steps as to not accidentally hurt her. He sometimes stopped to pet her head, grinning when her little tail began to wag excitedly. "Come on, lets go cuddle our sleeping beauty, yeah?" He whispered with mimicked excitement, making the dog bark as he hushed her, speedwalking towards the couch as the small poodle ran after him, yapping at your hands as he suddenly threw himself over you, careful not to crush you under his weight as he held himself up on his knees and elbows pressed into the soft cushions underneath, his nose tickling yours as you giggled.

The way he could go from an absolute demon to the softest young man alive gave you whiplash, but you wouldn't have it any other way with him.

"Jungkookie.."

"What is it?"

"Can you carry me to McDonalds?"

"First of all its been two days, second of all, get on my back."

[pookalukaa]

Paint Me

A Spencer Reid Fanfic

your friendly AroAce brings you a fanfic that is so self indulgent

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral Artist!Reader

Warnings: sexual innuendos but no actions further than kissing, and Spence is shirtless

Word Count: 1.9k

Your short nails grazed his goose-bumped covered back.

You envisioned what you would do to it as if it were the canvas that you usually painted, which were now forgotten, leaned against the wall of your living room.

You now sat on the floor with your boyfriend between your legs, with his back facing you.

You can feel his muscles tensing as you drag your hand along his back, no doubt was he thinking about something inappropriate. 

But you were simply there to paint.

And Spencer had offered to be the canvas.

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

“paint on me?” he asked with puppy-like eyes

You were startled by his question. Did I mishear him?

You looked up from your sketchbook, coming up with ideas and thumbnails for your next exhibition, your large canvases were prepped and ready for paint

“you mean paint you?” you asked with a tilt of your head 

You knew he probably said what he meant; the genius would not mess up his grammar that bad; but you needed to be sure.

In reality, you have always been interested in body painting, watching Skin Wars for hours, but never had a partner who brought it up; and you would never mention the interest

“I’ve painted you plenty, you’re my favorite model” you add with a wink

“If my favorite handsome model wants to pose like a French girl again, I have no problems with tha-” you continue, flirting before your rambling is cut off by your boyfriend cupping your face in his large, veiny hands, bringing his bottom lip to a pout

“you know that’s not what I meant silly” he answered with his pout becoming a playful smile, unconsciously licking his lips

You know he always did it without thinking but god, his habit of licking his lips when you got close was hot and you hated getting distracted by it

You tore your eyes away from his lips, wanting to tease him more

“Do I?” you ask with a faux confused face, tilting your head once more

“Maybe the doctor has to explain it and-” you stop, as Spencer licks his lips again, at the mention of you playfully calling him doctor

“-and the doctor should quit licking his lips before I act up” you say in a voice just above a whisper while looking at his lips 

You look up immediately, regretting the words that you just said, cheeks no doubt turning to a deep red

Spencer looked surprised at first but quickly regained composure enough to lean closer to you, slowly licking his lips, when he knew you were looking at him

“what should I stop doing sweetheart?” he asked, narrowing his bright hazel eyes, never breaking eye contact

“sorry I did not mean to say that. I really don’t mind it at all. I know you do it unconsciously. It can just be really distracting at times. And its really hot sometimes so I just- I mean- it’s just-” you pause, stumbling on yours words, speaking too fast for your brain to even catch up on, similar to how the man in front of you rambles

Spencer just continues to look at you with all the adoration of the world, tilts his head, as you did before

“Do I?” he teases, echoing what you said before

Obviously teasing was only for one partner in this relationship you thought giggling

Spencer’s eyes softened at the sound of your giggle, it’s one of his favorite sounds, right after the way you moan his name

Now he craves his favorite sound, so he leans into you just a little more and plants a soft kiss on your lips

You smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same when your eyes pop open and pulling back suddenly, placing your hands flat on his chest

Now he was really surprised, wondering if he did something wrong, he brought his hand to your upper arm, looking at you with worried eyes

“I want to paint on you” you quickly blurted

Just as he relaxed, realizing you had remembered the beginning of this conversation, and started to open his mouth to say something when you cut him off suddenly

“This has been something I have wanted to do forever! I’ve never had the guts to ask someone to be a model for me, but I’d love if I could paint you! It’d be so much fun, I even have paint for skin, so it won’t cause any rashes or anything!” you quickly ramble, so excited your practically vibrating, moving to stand up to gather the paints, but you stop in your tracks right when you were about to leave the living room of your apartment.

“At least…if you’re sure you wanna?” You ask with a shy glance

“It might take a while; I don’t want you to be uncomfy” you add

Spencer looks up at you with an excited smile (licking his lips again) reaching for your hand as he remained seated

“I would love nothing more sweetheart” he answered

With a hop in your step, your smile widens as you gather the paint from the other room

You rush back into the living room as you see Spencer unbuttoning his shirt, with his sweater vest discarded on the couch, neatly folded

You immediately blush a little at the sight but quickly regain composure; he’s your canvas for the day, he has to be blank

You think this as you leave your paints on the ground and walk up to him, placing your hands on his and undoing the rest of the buttons

Your hands fall on his chest as you motion the shirt off of him

You plant a quick but warm kiss on his soft lips as a thank you, and he received the message perfectly

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

That is how you ended up in this odd position with no sexual intent, even though your very good-looking boyfriend of a few years was sitting in front of you shirtless

You smacked your cheeks in frustration telling yourself to get into the zone

You look at naked models on the daily. 

To be fair, none of them were your handsome genius boyfriend, but there is a certain headspace you get in when you’re doing your art, where nothing else is important than getting the sketch or painting done

Finally getting into the headspace that you needed, you placed your hand flat on Spencer’s back, feeling him quickly tense and relax under your touch

“Can I tie up your hair a bit?” you ask softly

“of course, love” he quickly replies

So, you get one of your clips that was on the table in the living room and loosely put up some of the longer strands, so it did not get messy with paint

“I’m going to start laying some paint down” you say softly, warning him

“It’s probably going to be a little cold, sorry” you add with a soft laugh

You know he’s smiling without having to see his face, “Go for it love”

You nod and lay down a light lilac color. It was one of your favorites on him, and though he would not admit it was his favorite color, you could see the smile that came to his lips every time you wore it or had a painting with it being the primary color

You did not know where you were going with this painting, but like your other ones, you never really did

You would always try to plan them out, but they always turned out a different way than you imagined

Instead of being discouraged, you loved the change, saying that if it happened that way, it was meant to be

You laid down a sunflower yellow along with the lilac, and an idea struck you

You had always been obsessed with flower language, with purple lilacs representing the pure first emotions of love and yellow sunflowers representing pure happiness, you knew exactly where you were taking this masterpiece on your masterpiece of a boyfriend

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

There were few words exchanged in the hours as you enjoyed each other’s warmth and the comfortable silence between you. Occasionally there would be a giggle from Spencer as your brush or hand grazed a ticklish spot, or you absentmindedly talking about how sexy his back was or how you loved certain colors on him.

You would then see his neck and ears turn a light pink, another color that looked absolutely stunning on his skin

Almost 2 hours pass by Spencer remaining still other than to get up and stretch his legs a bit carefully and to get some water

“Alright I’m almost done Spence” you sigh happily

He breathes in quickly, excited to see what you painted on him

He loved the close proximity you have been to him these past few hours; he had placed a hand on your left leg that was on one side of him and softly rubbed it, your thighs were one of his favorite spots of your body; he was always leaving kisses and the occasional bruise there.

You take a deep breath, looking over your work one more time

“I’m done!” you say almost a bit too loud for it being nearly midnight in your apartment with thin walls

Spencer turns around, excited and before he can say anything you cup his face in your hands and place an excited kiss on his lips, once again relaying your thanks

Spencer smiles into the kiss and once you break the kiss he smiles gently, “take a picture so I can see your masterpiece”

You immediately pull out your phone and take a picture of his face, now with a few smudges of paint from your hands and his brown curls messily around his face, with some part still in the hair clip and giggle at the sight of a messy Spencer

He looked at you with confusion, his smile still planted on his face

“You’re my masterpiece” you would normally cringe at that cheesy statement, but it fit so well, and you knew that picture would end up as your wallpaper soon after this anyway

He laughed, which was one of your favorite sounds, right after how he moaned your name

You put your hands on his shoulders and turned him around so you could take a proper picture of his back and instead of him turning around again to look at you, you stood up and sat down on his lap, his body conforming to cradle you and fit yours perfectly

“Look at it!” you motioned

It was a beautiful bouquet of flowers all over his back all pointing back to the pure feeling of love, adoration, passion and above all: happiness.

You knew Spencer had extensive knowledge of flowers with his eidetic memory and just by being around you and hearing your rambles about your new research

His grin deepens and you can see his eyes moving all over the picture, taking in every detail so he would remember it forever, even if he did not have his unbreakable memory

“It looks amazing love” he softly says, eyes not leaving the phone. He is now looking at the individual flowers, seeing all the different meanings and how you wanted to show your love and adoration

You swear you see him trying to hold back a tear, “I love you so much, I cannot believe I am dating someone as talented as you love” finally looking at you, cupping your face in his hands and giving you the passion that was in the flowers in a kiss

After staying in that comfortable position for a minute longer, you stand up, offering him a hand, “Alright it’s time for a shower babe, the paint is made for skin, but shouldn’t stay on too long; besides, I wanna go to bed”

“I’ll go to the shower as long as you’re with me” he instantly replies with a smirk

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, I gotta wash your back anyway” you reply

You both walk hand in hand to the shower, and you can look forward to the long shower and night after that.

Spencer Reid may be your masterpiece, but tonight he wanted to show you that you were his.

please let me know if you liked my first fic and if you would like a second (smut 👀) part or just more in general (i do love me some Hotch👀👀)

💕💕💕💕💕

also huge props to @spenciebabie for being a huge inspiration when it comes to this. take a look at their page (only 18+ please~) and their amazing writing, the community they've built on their page is adorable!!

[celestialtitania]

A Midnight Shoot

Thanks to @botdennis for helping me come up with an idea for this prompt, I was able to write this fic. Written for Day 6: Midnight of Marichat May. Can also read on AO3. @marichatmay

Chat Noir yawned loudly. He hated solo patrols, they were exhausting and tedious to do. He'd much rather spend time with his Lady, though he had to admit that roaming the streets of Paris was always preferable to sitting home alone.

He checked the time on his baton and winced at the time. It was getting rather late and he had an early morning, having to squeeze in a photoshoot before school. Still, he didn't feel like going home right away.

Deciding to make a quick detour through the park, Chat hopped down from the roof, enjoying the sights from the actual streets of Paris.

He'd just entered the park when he saw the silhouette of another person in the corner of his eye. Fearing it was an akuma, Chat adopted his battle pose only to stop dead when he realized it was a pig-tailed girl holding a sketch pad.

A very familiar pig-tailed girl holding a sketch pad. He retracted his baton and sauntered over to her.

"Yo," he greeted, making her jump out of her seat, her pen going flying. "Woah!" Chat reached over to catch it before it could hit the ground. He straightened and offered it to her.

"Thanks, Chat. What are you doing here?" Marinette asked him with a warm smile.

He frowned at her. "Isn't that what I should be asking, Marinette? It's almost midnight, why are you out here alone?"

She didn't respond, staring at him with a peculiar expression on her face. "Marinette?" Chat tried waving a hand in front of her face and Marinette grabbed it.

"Stand here," she commanded, dragging him to a spot where the moon's light was especially bright. "Perfect," she murmured, scribbling away furiously in her sketchpad.

Every time he tried to question her, Marinette would simply look up with an irritated expression and hush him. Chat wanted to protest, he was a model that worked with photographers, not artists, but he slumped his shoulders, resigned to his fate.

There was clearly no interrupting Marinette when she was in the zone. So much for an early night.

After what felt like hours, but was in fact around 20 mins (a fact he only knew because he'd been constantly checking with his baton, out of sheer boredom), Marinette finally put her pen down.

"Look at this," she exclaimed proudly showing him her completed drawing.

Chat Noir squinted before his eyes widened in surprise. "Is that a Chat Noir-themed jacket?"

"Sort of," Marinette admitted. "It's a new commission for Jagged Stone. I've been trying to figure out a way to work with the leather and since I've never worked with leather before, I was completely lost. I think I had been staring at my blank sketchpad for hours before you showed up. Somehow, against all odds, when I saw you here with the moonlight shining on your leather suit, inspiration just hit," she mimed an explosion with her fingers.

"Look where it's light? I'm planning on having white sequins there on top of the black leather to mimic the effects of the moonlight."

"Woah, that's so detailed. If you can make it work that would be amazing and you could change the colour of sequins to try for different effects," Chat inferred. Even his Father rarely attempted projects like that, there was just too much of a chance for things to go wrong.

Her expression turned sheepish. "Sorry for commandeering you like that," Marinette apologized.

"It's fine! That jacket looks so awesome, Marinette. Jagged Stone is going to love it," Chat gushed, waving away any of her concerns. Sure, he hadn't enjoyed standing there as a model for her, but knowing he had a hand in helping her create something that cool? It more than made up for it.

"I'm pretty clawsome, seeing as you got so inspired by just the sight of me standing around," Chat joked, enjoying the way Marinette grinned at him even as she rolled her eyes at his punning.

"Yeah, I suppose you are," she admitted softly, a pinkish hue covering her cheeks. Chat tried his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at her words, in favor of frowning at her in disapproval.

"Princess, I understand you needed inspiration but do you have any idea what time it is right now?"

Marinette blinked at him before scrambling for her phone. She shrieked when she saw how late it was. "It's a minute to midnight! How did I end up staying out so late?" She groaned.

"I guess what they say is true. When you're in the zone, time just flies by," Chat Noir shrugged,

"This is a disaster. If my parents hear me coming in this late, I'll be grounded forever," Marinette wailed. She pulled on her hair, clearly trying to find a way out of this mess.

"How about a lift?" Chat offered, a small smile on his lips. Marinette really was adorable for worrying like that.

She looked up at him from the crouch she had ended up in while panicking. "Really?" She squeaked.

Doing his best to repress memories of Multimouse, Chat nodded. He extended his hand to her. "Shall we, Princess?"

Hesitantly, she put her hand in his, his grip tightening around hers instantly. Pulling her closer to him, he looped her arm around his neck before wrapping his arm around her waist. Giving her a smile, he extended his baton, and then they were towering into the sky.

A few jumps later, Chat was safely depositing Marinette onto her balcony. "There you are," he sighed, perching on her balcony railing.

"Thanks, Chat," Marinette smiled at him. "Would you like a croissant for the road?"

"Would I?" Chat's eyes sparkled. He would never turn down a Dupain-Cheng treat if he could help it. She grinned at him, briefly disappearing into her bedroom before coming back with a bag of goodies.

"Croissant and passion fruit macaron for good luck," she chirped. "Have a good night, Chat Noir," she smiled sweetly at him.

Taking the bag from her, Chat gave her a mock salute before heading home, this time with a light heart.

[imaginesbymonika]

“Until they discover what a mess I truly am.”

Pairing: Pete Davidson x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of depression, fluff at the end

As a writer for SNL Y/N knew a bunch of famous people, she worked with almost everyone since she had started in 2013. The young woman began writing at the age of 17, being the youngest female writer in Saturday Night Live history. On the one hand, it was super fun, the thrill of working among people such as Seth Meyers or Lorne Michaels filled her with pride. At the same time, it was intimidating and occasionally mentally exhausting. It felt like she frequently had to prove herself to everyone, prove that she was worthy of being a writer for SNL at such a young age. She constantly had to work twice as hard.

The first person that looked at Y/N as an equal writer was John Mulaney. John treated her like an adult and whenever she happened to be in the writers' room with him, he always wanted to hear her ideas and opinions on scripts and previous shows.

He explained that he saw a piece of himself in her, and he knew exactly how tough the first year could be without having at least one friend.

To this day still, Y/N was incredibly grateful for him.

Over the years she had met a lot of writers, some of them grabbing her attention more than others. But at the end of the day, none of them seemed to be 'dateable'. John always wanted to set her up with one of his friends, but she always declined saying he was her friend, not her dating service. Until Y/N met Pete Davidson.

„Sorry, I’m late.“, he announced after entering the writers' room. He sat down on the opposite side of Y/N and flashed her a quick smile, before leaning back in his chair.

„I saw how you stared at Pete this morning.“, John later said as the two left the SNL building. She simply rolled her eyes and turned her head away from her friend, humiliated that her cheeks were burning up.

The very first-time Y/N realized she had developed quite the crush on Pete was after his proposal announcement.

He held up Ariana’s hand, while a huge smile played on his lips: “WE‘RE GETTING MARRIED!“. She could see the little tattoo behind his ear and sighed.

She could feel her heart breaking, but when his eyes met hers, Y/N smiled softly and nodded her head at him. Forming the word „Congrats“ with her lips.

From that moment on, she tried her best to get over him. Dating guys and having one night stands- Y/N did everything to keep Pete of her mind. She hardly saw him, during the time of his engagement, which was a miracle. But after the engagement was canceled, he was around more often. They sometimes made eye contact in the writers' room or at an after-show party. But Y/N kept her distance, knowing that once they would start talking again- her old feelings would resurface.

„Pete asked about you again.“, John explains while handing her a cup of coffee. „Thank you.“. Making her snap out of her thoughts: “Are you alright?“.

She simply nods: “Yeah, I’m fine.“.

„Did you hear what I said? Pete-.“.

„Yeah, I heard you.“, Y/N interrupts him, a bit more cold than she intended. She takes a sip before looking at her old friend apologetic: “John, you know how I feel about Pete- I don’t want to get my hopes up. He’s out there dating these supermodels, I just don’t-“, she pauses for a second: “I just don’t fit into that picture.“.

John, confused and a bit overwhelmed by her words swallows thickly: “Okay, wow. I never expected you to think that little of yourself-.“.

„Pete’s too good for me. Hell, he’s too good for anyone, really.“, she explains: “Let’s not talk about him. Please.”.

„That’s exactly what he said about her.“, Anna, John's wife, exclaims after Y/N left their apartment: “We need to do something about this mess.“.

„I don’t know.“, Pete says, holding a cigarette in his hand: “I mean, it’s not like I don’t find Y/N attractive... she’s really pretty, but I feel like she deserves more- better than this.“. He makes a hand gesture, pointing at himself.

„But Pete-.“.

„Look, I appreciate your concerns but - it’s always the same. I like a girl, we date then she gets to know the real me- like the real me. You know how fucked up I am. She breaks up with me.“, Pete explains: “And I don’t know, I can get it when they’re famous- like Ariana or Kaia...but a normal girl like Y/N? That would probably break my heart.“.

Anna and John exchange a look.

Y/N who walks into her office turns on the lights. One hour earlier she received a weird text message from John saying:

Sorry to text you this late, there’s some trouble at the office considering the sketch for tomorrow. Would be great if you could go there, rehearse it and look it over. Anna and I have our date night, so it would be you with another writer. Thanks. Love you.

„Hello-?“, a voice asks and Y/N lets out a high-pitched scream. She quickly turns around and sees Pete Davidson standing in the door frame.

„Oh my god, Pete.“, she says and runs a hand down her face. She can hear how he chuckles slightly. “You scared the living shit out of me. Don’t ever do that again!“.

„What? Say hello?“, he smiles and Y/N just rolls her eyes in response.

„I guess, it’s just you and me.“, Y/N points out and hopes that John was mentally preparing himself for what’s going to happen the next time they see each other again: “John said there’s some sort of Sketch, waiting here...but I can’t find one.“

„John texted you too?“, Y/N asks and her eyes widen: “Maybe he made a mistake?“.

„Nah, I don’t think so.“.

An awkward silence falls upon the two and after a few seconds Y/N walks over to her computer: “Maybe he sent me the script via E-Mail, let me check.“. Meanwhile, Pete sits down on the little couch and watches her.

„You should get a bigger couch.“, he exclaims and when Y/N looks up from the screen, he smiles at her. It makes her cheek blush and she quickly hides her face beneath the computer.

„Now... how’s life treating you?“, Pete asks and lays down, he stares at the ceiling.

Y/N sighs: “It’s okay, I guess. What about you? I heard you’re currently dating this actress. Kate. How’s that working out?”.

„No.“, he replies: “I’m not, we- well, she broke up with me a month later. I feel like they all think I’m a great guy until they date me and discover what a mess I truly am. Or maybe it’s the fact that Ariana said my dick is huge so- they want to check that out themselves. I don’t know.”.

The young woman stops typing and looks at Pete again, she leans back in her chair: “I hope you know, that’s not true.”.

“How do you know? I never showed you my dick. Or did I? If I-.”.

“Pete, you’re not a mess, you just have some mental health issues. If these women can’t 'handle' you that’s not your problem but theirs. You are a great guy and every girl would be lucky to have you by their side... I can’t seem to find an email, I’ll call John.“.She gets up from her chair and leaves the room: “I’ll get myself a cup of coffee afterward, you want some?.“.

Pete, speechless by her words slowly sits up straight on the couch. He never expected someone to say something so kind about him. He gets up and leaves the room. At the end of the hallway stands Y/N, slightly slapping the coffee machine.

„I can’t reach John, and this stupid machine isn’t working-.“, she says, frustration audible in her voice.

„Did you mean what you just said?“,he asks and Y/N looks up.

She stares at him for a few seconds: “Yeah, why-?“.

„This might sound ridiculous.”, he starts, crosses his arms, and leans against the wall:” But... did John talked to you about asking me out for a date?”.

As soon as the words leave his mouth the color on Y/N’s face disappears. She can feel how her mouth runs dry and her hands start to sweat.

“Because he talked to me about asking you out. And-.”.

“What did you say to him?”.

He wrinkles his forehead:” Of course, I said no.”.

“Oh.”.

Y/N can feel it. She can feel how her heart is breaking in ways she didn’t know were possible. If dying of a broken heart was a real thing, maybe now it would happen to her.

“Of course.”, she repeats his words and scratches her eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean- you wouldn’t date me either. That’s probably what you told John.”, Pete chuckles but stops when he sees Y/N’s facial expression. His eyes widen:” Shit, no.”, he says, almost like a whisper.

Y/N rushes past him into her office before the tears are falling. She didn’t care. Not now.

“Y/N- I...”, he starts but the girl shakes her head.

“Go Home, Pete. I’ll call John and tell him I didn’t find the script.”.

“I just assumed we were on the same page.”, he says, ignoring what she just said:” Like, look at you and look at me- I’m too much of a jerk for someone like you!”.

“Excuse me?“, she replies, her voice growing louder with every second passing: “Since when do you decide what’s best for me?“.

„I don’t want you to get hurt, I’m difficult. Fuck, Y/N, you know that. We’ve been working together for such a long time now. If we would get together, I don’t know if I could survive you thinking the same way these girls think about me now.“.

Y/N sighs and crosses her arms in front of her chest, as if she was trying to protect the last bit of her heart: “You’re right, we shouldn’t get together.“.

„W-what?“.

„Pete.“, she slowly takes his hand, her voice breaking: “You need to work on your mental health, you can’t just jump from one relationship into the next. That’s unhealthy. But... I will help you. I will be there for you until you’re truly ready to date again.“.

A soft smile spreads on his lips: “That sounds good.“, he leans down: “One kiss, though?“.

„Sure.“, she replies:” You can get more than one..”.And when their lips meet, it feels better than she could have ever imagined.