#elegant flyer

[flyertemplates]

Ugly Sweater Flyer Template is very modern psd flyer that will be the perfect invitation for your Christmas event or Club party! All elements are in individual layers and the text is fully editable!

2 PSD files – 4”x4” with 0.25” bleed + 1080×1080 rgb Social media ready

[thatsdesignstore]

SAINT PATRICK'S DAY FLYER TEMPLATE V12:

- 1 Photoshop PSD file, 1 help file. - A4 size (21x29.7 cm) or (8.3x11.7 inch) with bleed (21.6x30.3 cm) or (8.5x11.9 inch). - Print Ready (CMYK, 300 DPI, bleed). - Layers are labeled, color-coded and organized in groups for easy navigation. - Free Fonts download links provided within the help file.

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[billionbrooks]

Solomon Lawrence

[kyutushi]

❥🝮𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 ; 𝐩𝟏

`ఌ𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

❦ꨄ𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; 𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 (𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐬 (𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥), 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐭/𝐟𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥

the evening sky hung low over the city, casting elongated shadows as the city lights began their nightly glow. amongst the bustling streets and towering buildings, one named y/n found themself on a peculiar journey, one they never anticipated.

y/n was that of grace and elegance, their demeanor as poised as their steps were deliberate. of course being someone on their way to topple the ranks it was quite easy to navigate the pride ring with no threat. they had a curiosity that often led them into unexpected adventures. tonight was no different.

a peculiar flyer caught their eye, its bold letters declaring: "hazbin hotel: where every demon deserves a second chance." intrigued, y/n tucked the flyer into their pocket, the image of a grand hotel etched into their mind.

days passed, and the memory of the flyer lingered. y/ns curiosity gnawed at them until they found theirself standing before the grand entrance of the hotel. Its imposing structure loomed before them, shrouded in an eerie glow that seemed to beckon them closer.

they looked up at the red sky, heart beat quickening. what should they expect once these doors open? y/n knocked on the door, once.. twice.. thrice.. when suddenly the door was opened. there stood hells princess, charlie morningstar. her face lit up instantly, gleaming with pride, “are you.. A NEW GUEST?” she asked enthusiastically, taking y/ns had roughly and shaking it, pulling them into the hotel. the lobby was opulent, adorned with velvet drapes and flickering candles that cast dancing shadows upon the walls.

“well, i had happened to come across a flyer and i was intrigued.. how exactly does this work do tell?” y/n murmured, bringing a finger to their lips. charlie sweat dropped before bringing up a hand to speak, “actually— umm i haven’t figured that out yet! but trust me when i say it can definitely happen!” she tried to persuade you.

“i see.. care to show me around, princess?” she nodded enthusiastically and pulled you around showing you everything about the hotel.

—

“AND this is the barrrr and the bartender..!” she pointed at everything there was to see. the rugged man at the bar spared a quick glance and mumbled something before doing a double take. his eyes widened in shock as he turned towards you, “n/n..?” it was then when y/n saw him, husk, their husband. y/n’s breath caught in their throat as recognition dawned upon them. it really is him.

“..husk? what are you- what happened-“ y/n rushed over, ignoring charlie’s questioning, “what the fuck are you doing here?? you disappeared and never said anything—“ y/n took his hands (paws?) into theirs. “i’m sorry doll.. i- alastor came back.” he mumbled, trying to keep anyone from overhearing. after all, the walls have ears.

y/n frowned, “i told you this already, give me the word and i’ll get you out of this damned deal! i can’t bear to see you working yourself away for this sicko.”

“no- i cant let you, who knows what the hell he’s got up his sleeve. he tricked me and i cant let him do the same thing to you. what are you even doing here- if he sees you-“ and as if things could be worse a shadow appeared from behind y/n, manifesting. alastor came out of nowhere, “ahh what a lovely reunion! right husker!” his cheery voice rang.

husk only mumbled, growling under his breath as he tried to avoid eye contact. he took a glass and began to clean it as he watched the scene, mainly keeping his eyes on y/n. y/n looked away from husk and glared at alastor. “you fucker, why are you back? it’s been SEVEN years.” their eyes flickering slightly, turning a slightly different color. y/ns power was mysterious and even alastor himself had no idea what they could do, so all he can do himself is antagonize. he only smiled wider, “good to see you too darling!”

as both y/n and alastor argued chatted away, angel made his way towards the bar, “ehhh soo you know fluffy tits right there?” he sat down right in front of husk. “they’re my partner..” he mumbled, “never thought i’d see them again.” glancing over to see you holding back a punch towards alastor. “those two never got along.” he chuckled slightly while reminiscing. angel chuckled too, “they looks fiery, i’d love to see her stick it to alastor.” he looked over at y/n and alastor again, y/ns fluffy ears close to their head as they held alastor by his collar. “hah! yeah i can say they’ve kicked my ass a few times..” husk looked at you and smiled lovingly.

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐢𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞 ,, 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐦𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 ❤️

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 3 - C’est Un Gars

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none... just some instant attraction and flirting ;)

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when reader and Benedict finally meet. Yep, that's the whole chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Benedict doesn't turn up the next day. Or the day after that. Some snag with travel arrangements that Eloise doesn't explain, and you don't pry. You suspect she championed any excuse for him to delay his trip. But it does mean his arrival is not particularly front of your mind as the days slip by.

It's a week later - after an exhausting workday in uncomfortable shoes - when you get home and notice the door is unlocked. Assuming it's Eloise, you enter the apartment distractedly, reading a flyer you picked up on your journey home.

“El, did you see this?” you call out without looking up, dropping your bag as you unbuckle your T-strap heel, the relief to your foot palpable, flinging the first aside. “There is a new jazz night in Montmartre… I think we should go, seeing as your troublesome brother is never turning up…”

“He is actually…” a refined, resonant voice calls out from across the room with a wry tone. There, silhouetted by the bright window, is the outline of a tall man.

You stumble in shock, twisting your ankle quite heavily as you remove the last shoe, and he rushes forward to your aid, large hands grasping your waist, stopping you from falling down and righting your stance. His hold is gone as soon as you are stable. 

Discombobulated and embarrassed, you find yourself staring up into the most handsome face you have ever seen in your twenty-two years on earth, tongue-tied and awkwardly holding your right shoe. Not the introduction you would want with anyone.

“Benedict?” you squeak, mouth rapidly running dry.

“The very same,” his acknowledging smile is crooked, and something gallops hard through your chest. “Y/n, I presume?”

All you can do is nod. You can see the family resemblance - chestnut hair, blue eyes, a proud jaw - but damn if this is not the most fetching male version of Eloise’s prettiness. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looks very dashing in a royal blue three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and burgundy and gold striped tie. 

“Are you alright?” his forehead creases in concern as he nods to your ankle.

“I… I think so?” you stutter. There is a slight throb there, but it's almost background to the riot in the rest of your body at the very sight of this man. 

Oh god, Eloise is going to disown me…  

Her warning from last week is ringing in your ears as you attempt a step but can't hide the wince at the bloom of pain as your weight transfers.

“Hmmm, I think that's a no,” he hums. “Come, take my arm, let's get you seated and this foot raised…..”

And so you find yourself clinging to the arm he offers, feeling the latent power under the layers of fabric as he provides a solid brace to lean on. Still a touch mortified, you drop onto the sofa as elegantly as you can, raising your ankle onto the coffee table and sighing with relief. You don't miss how his eyes linger briefly on your stockinged leg before he bustles over to your refrigerator and grabs a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. 

“Here, this should help,” he explains as he walks back. 

“Drink until it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you guess drolly. 

His responding laugh is warm and crinkles his eyes so beguilingly. “Stop the swelling,” he explains as he slides to sit on the coffee table next to your leg and presses the bottle against your ankle. 

You hiss gently behind your teeth, the coolness seeping through your stocking. Your eyes meet, and you swear his dilate a fraction, the hand not holding the bottle wrapping around the inside of your ankle to align your foot better, long elegant fingers cupping your arch. Just that simple touch is enough to make your pulse race. Something about this man feels electric. Like standing beside a humming pylon, an energy coursing through you.

“It’s nice to finally meet the artist,” you murmur, gesturing to the artwork you know so well now.

His eyes track to the painting, and his face lights up. “You like it?” his tone so hopeful.

“It's beautiful,” you confess, a tingle where you can feel the warmth of his fingers flexing around your foot, contrasting to the cold of the bottle.

“Thank you,” he demures, bowing his head and looking up at you through his lashes, a dot of colour high on his cheekbones.

“What the….”

You both twist to see Eloise standing in the doorway, mouth agape. Benedict’s hand flinches away from your foot, and you realise it must look more incriminating from her angle, unable to see the cold compress. All she sees is him sitting on the coffee table, grasping your leg as you talk softly to each other….

“El! Hi!” you call, attempting a breezy tone, “I tripped on my way in, and Benedict here was just helping me. I’m okay,” you add preemptively.

He jumps up from the coffee table and indeed indicates your injury. Eloise nods to acknowledge it, then narrows her eyes at him before walking over and giving him a quick embrace, kissing his cheek.

“Hello, brother. I was hoping you would never show up,” she greets sardonically.

“Hello, little sister, always such a warm welcome…” he drawls.

You can’t help but giggle at their exchange, and both seem pleased to have entertained you, twinkles in their similar eyes.

“Well, this rather scuppers tonight’s dancing plans…” Eloise motions at your ankle.

“You and Solene go without me. Why not take Benedict, too?!”

“I’ve had a full day of travel. I’d rather not…” he confesses when Eloise looks at him expectantly.

“Spoilsport,” she rolls her eyes. “Where are you staying?” 

“I haven’t booked anywhere...” he confesses, looking a touch sheepish. as you clock a suitcase against the wall. 

“Well then, your choices are to find a hotel now or sleep on our sofa,” she shrugs. 

“If it means it will get you packed quicker, I’ll stay right here,” he answered pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

“Brother, have you ever been to Paris before?” You can tell Eloise is winding up for one of her persuasions with that opening gambit, so you chuckle and relax back into the sofa, crossing your arms, about to enjoy the show.

“Is this going to be a two-minute or a ten-minute Eloise soliloquy?” he misdirects dryly, catching your eye and winking, which makes your heart skip.

Undeterred by both of your reactions, Eloise launches into her argument. “I know for a fact you haven’t, so let me say this. You are an artist. This is the art capital of the world. It would literally be irresponsible for you not to stay a while. Enjoy the galleries. Soak up the atmosphere. Get inspired. Hell, y/n here works in a gallery and has quite the encyclopedic knowledge of all the artists on display in the city - a literal font of knowledge…” As she extols your virtues, his eyes cut to you, an admiration and curiosity in them that makes your lungs feel tight, “…I would personally judge you for not staying. At least a week? Maybe two…”

“Delay tactics, El,” he sighs, but even you can see him wavering.

“Paris may not always be here, at least not as it is now,” you append, unwilling to look at him as you say it, looking out across the rooftops wistfully. “The art truly is spectacular, and if war comes to its doorstep in the next few months, who knows what could happen? You may regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t experience at least some of it.” Your focus back in the room as you look upon his art again. “Someone who paints something that beautiful deserves to see the old European masters up close…” you end on a shrug.

His gaze feels heavy like a cloak as Eloise waves her hands towards you. “Yeah… THAT,” she adds with finality.

Benedict sighs and tips his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows heavily.

“Fine. Three days,” he capitulates. “But, Eloise, you must be packed and ready to leave by then. I mean it. I don’t need Mother’s wrath about this…” his warning avuncular.

“Promise,” she smirks, before grinning and whooping in victory, doing a little jig as he shakes his head with exasperated affection.

“Prêt à aller?”  Solene's face appears around the doorframe, her face made up for a night out.

“Not for me,” you pout as she opens the door fully. “ I twisted my ankle. But I’m pretty sure Eloise wants a bit more victory dance time,” you smile as Eloise nods furiously, still swaying. 

They all offer to help you to your room, but you steadfastly refuse, confident you can hobble to bed when the time comes. Wishing them all well, you’re looking forward to some quiet alone time after an eventful day. 

—

Half an hour later, you are reading a book and feasting on brie and crackers when there is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in?” your call is tentative, unsure who might be knocking this late.

You frown as a key jangles in the door, then a warm flush down your spine as Benedict appears in the doorway, suitcase in hand.

“Eloise gave me a spare key. The hotel is fully booked for tonight,” he grimaces apologetically. 

“Sofa it is?”

“Appears so…”

“So there’s only one hotel in the whole of Paris, then?” you tease softly as he removes his hat and drops his case.

“Only one in close enough proximity to ensure Eloise doesn’t have time to pack and up and abscond to god know where before I can intervene, yes…” that crooked grin reappearing.

“I’d never let her do that!” you gasp in mock outrage. “At least not without taking me too….”

He laughs heartily and moves to the counter to grab two wine glasses and a bottle opener, asking silently with an eyebrow raise if you want to join in, which you enthusiastically agree to.

“What will you do? When we leave?” He asks over the glugging sound of the glasses being filled. 

“My family has told me to move up my return sailing to as soon as possible…” you can’t hide the disappointment in your tone. “I know I should do it… I just…”

“…Don’t want to give up on something before you even know how much you need it?” He guesses as he hands you a glass.

You are momentarily floored by how accurately he has pinpointed your feelings.

“Yes,” your reply is quiet but emphatic, a jolt to your being as your fingers brush while taking the drink, “that’s exactly it!”

“I understand…” and there is a world of empathy in his tone, raising his glass in silent toast, which you mirror. “But time isn’t on your side…” he reminds after a sip, “a few weeks, months if we are lucky, and Paris may well be invaded.”

“England too…” 

“Perhaps, indeed. So you should go. Be safe. Back home to America…”

“What if that’s the very last thing I want?” your whisper is more fervent than you intended.

“That sounds more like a reason you don’t want to go than a reason you want to stay,” he surmises, again frighteningly on target with his assessment of your feelings, almost as if he’s in tune with them somehow. “But yet… Eloise said you’re engaged?” he aims for nonchalant, but you could swear there is dejection too.

“Sort of…” a wave of guilt crashing into you as your thoughts slide to Stanley. Good, reliable, comfortable, safe Stanley.

“How does one become ‘sort of’ engaged?” he frowns bemused, using air quotes. 

“Growing up down the street from someone your age whose father happens to be your own father's best friend and business partner?”

“Oh…” there’s a pause, “you’re not being pressured, are you?” his query filled with concern. It makes your ribs glow that he might even care.

“No… just… a life plotted out,” you echo the words Eloise threw at you on your first night here.

“And it’s not the life you want…?”

“I used to think so…,” you sigh, eyes cutting to the side as you feel a swell of a tear forming.

“You have the right to change your mind,” Benedict attests softly as you twirl your glass between your fingers. “You don’t owe anyone else your happiness.”

You want to climb into his lap, grab his jaw and kiss him senseless. The impulse so strong you can feel a tingle where his stubble would abrade your lips if you did so. Suddenly worried you'll act recklessly if you stay any longer, you rise to your feet, make your excuses and limp mildly to your room… laying in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time before sleep claims you.

–

It's the middle of the night when you awaken thirsty and decide to get a glass of water, your ankle much better from the laydown. Half-asleep, you wander out of your room, fumbling towards the kitchen area, when you almost trip for an entirely different reason. Well, perhaps the same reason you tripped in the first place.

There on the sofa, in a shaft of moonlight, is Benedict, fast asleep; his face is so peaceful in repose. But that is not where your eye lingers. He is topless, a blanket pooled around his waist, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. And you cannot look away. He is all smooth planes of skin peppered with occasional moles that your fingertips itch to trace patterns between. His shoulders are indeed broad without a suit, and it's obvious he is somewhat of an athlete; the play of muscle and ribcage as he breathes deep utterly entrancing. It's so completely different to how Stanley looks - hairy and stout - that you drift closer without realising it, drawn to the sight. It's the closest you’ve seen to a breathing Statue of David, a shape you didn't think real humans came in…. until now. 

So much so you don't even realise when his eyes flutter open, just transfixed by how his breathing pattern appears to change the flex of his abdominals.

“Are you alright?” his voice is a rough whisper and you startle. His eyes seem to focus, and you notice they flit down your body before he seems to stop himself.

“Sorry,” you stumble in apology, feeling your face flushing violently as your eyes fly to his face, then look away, embarrassed to be caught ogling so obviously.

“Do you need anything?” 

Yes, to run my tongue over that divot right there… your mind screams.

“No, no... I just came out to get some water and worried you might be cold uncovered,” you bluster. “I was going to cover you up, but you awoke before I could….” 

You are mildly impressed you can come up with an excuse as your heart pounds in your ears. Benedict’s face morphs into an intriguing mix of knowing, lopsided smile and bashfulness, pointedly pulling up the covers until they are tucked under his chin.

“Better?” he rumbles, and you could swear it is with a teasing lilt.

“Much…” you nod before awkwardly turning away.

“Y/n…” he calls softly, and you look at him over your shoulder, a flutter in your belly as you catch him glancing at your bottom.

“What…?”

“I'm glad your ankle seems better,” he offers softly.

“It is, thanks to you…”

“De rien…” his response, low and deep, in a flawless French accent, makes goosebumps break out over your arms.

Damn you, Benedict Bridgerton.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Hey lovely!! I love your work and I was wondering if you can do a baji x reader smut with like a friends to lovers where he gets jealous when one of his friends make a move on you as a joke but he can’t take it seeing y/n all happy’ with a. Anna that’s not him and can u please include where someone walks in on them at the end and he says something about how they became a couple like someone walks in and he he’s like “ can you ye out I’m trying to help my girlfriend clean up!” I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH I have read so much of ur stuff BbBbdbdbbdbd

Ima be honest, I wrote this when I was high so like, idek if this makes sense

Jealous! Baji x Reader (Smut)

Annoyed by your lack of attention, he huffed and puffed, and you still didn't say anything,

"What are you even reading that you are so invested in?" He muttered glancing at your book before pouting and setting his eyes aside.

"Huh, you don't know?" You turned to him and showed him your book cover.

Romeo and Juliet

"Ew, what the hell. Who the hell even reads that in their free time." He cringed at your sappy choice of book taste.

"Shut up will you, it's for the Drama Club. It's the annual play, other schools come and parents also come. I auditioned for fun, but I got the main role, Juliet." You explained, before someone abruptly opened the empty classroom door, it was lunch time.

"Woah, Y/n, did you actually join the annual play?!" It was Chifuyu, he was breathing and seemed...flustered.

"Oh, yeah. how'd you know?" You asked, tilting your head a little worried.

"The flyers are literally being passed out everywhere, look!" He unrolled the flyer and then slammed it on one of the desks.

You took a peek before,

"Woah.."

"Huh?-"

It was you and Ryusei Satou on the cover. You had a dagger in your hand aimed high at yourself as you knelt on your dead lover's body, Ryusei was lying on the floor with poison that fell in drops from his mouth, the tragic fate of Romeo and Juliet. On the cover, you looked just so beautiful, you looked alluring. Your eyes were magnetic, drawing people in with a combination of elegance and genuine warmth. Baji understood why you would be Juliet, no one fit better, you were beautiful both in and out, gentle, graceful, oh he could go on and on about you. He never liked to admit it, he loved you too much. But why was that asshole Ryusei, Romeo, he thought angrily.

The next couple of weeks, Baji has barely seen you. So imagine how he felt when he heard that the entire time you were with Ryusei practicing for the upcoming play. Almost as if you cheated on him, not like you were dating anyway. He didn't mean to stop, he really didn't. But when he heard your voice from outside the theater room, he stopped to listen. Even your voice made him flushed and nervous. However, he froze when he peeked in and saw how Ryusei had you in his arms as he performed dramatically. You were smiling and laughing even. You looked so happy with another guy, it broke his heart. He felt like punching him, or anyone at this point. It was now after school, Chifuyu stopped by Baji's apartment to study for upcoming exams and projects. Then he asked when he noticed how Baji seemed more angry than usual.

"Are you upset that Y/n and Ryusei are gonna kiss?" he shouldn't have said that.

"WHAT, THEY KISS?!" He shouted

"Ohh, I shouldn't have said that..."

"She can't- No- UGHH CAN SHE QUIT THAT STUPID PLAY ALREADY?" Baji groaned, throwing his books to the side before slamming his head on his desk.

"This is so stupid." He pulled onto his hair. He stopped and turned to Chifuyu, who muttered something.

"You got something to say?"

"Baji, she was gonna ask you to do the auditions with her but you turned her down for the gang, Also the play is in a couple days so I think it's too late to pull out now." He repeated himself, a little anxious.

Wait, he thought, was it that one time? Shit, he does remember when he turned down your request, you looked so sad and he promised to make it up to you, which he forgot to do. Fuck.

Now, it was Chifuyu's turn to be worried because of Baji's sudden absences. He couldn't be that affecting because of a silly play, right? C'mon that's Toman's First Division Captain, he can't be acting all childish and clingy when it comes to you, right? Wrong, he was in his room walking back and forth, whining about it.

Baji stayed home the day of the play, until he got a text from Chifuyu.

-- Holy shit, there's so many people at the school dude!"

He groaned and put his phone down, obviously people came. You were too unreal, too siren-like. He heard a knock on his door, it was his mom.

"Chifuyu told me what's been going on. I'm not here to talk to you because in truth, I think you deserve it. You had a chance and you wasted it and made her wait. And you know worst of all, YOU DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT UP TO HER, and here you are being all childish and sad about the consequences to your own actions. If I were you, I would take my ass there and make it up to her." She scolded him, maybe it sounded harsh, but it was out of love, she was sad that he was putting himself through this.

"yeah, LIKE I KNOW HOW. AT THIS POINT, just let them be." He sighed defeated,

"Don't give me that bull. You know how Kei, I know what you've been doing." She said in a smug motherly tone.

He felt his face grow hot quickly as he glanced at the copy of the play he had read.

Stupid, he thought

He heard his mother's footsteps fade as she walked away once their conversation died out. She was right, Baji knew what to do, and he was gonna make it up to you, tonight!

Backstage, you were nervous, shaking even. You were wearing a silky and fancy long nightgown. It was a scene where you are on the balcony of your room confessing your love to the hidden Romeo as he listens to your heart-filled speech. The play was nearing its end, which meant it was closing to where you had to kiss Romeo or more specifically, Ryusei. Which you found extremely awkward. You noticed Chifuyu in the crowd earlier in the play, he was waving and cheering. However, it saddened you how Baji didn't come, he probably had another important gang meeting, you thought. It was the final scene now. You were getting ready to step on stage before you heard some ruckus in the background, before you had time to figure out. The play started and you stepped onto the stage. You talked clearly and passionately, You called out to your lover, this is when Ryusei was to step out and capture you in a breathtaking kiss after some sensual words. You waited, but no one came out. You called out again, nervously.

Suddenly, from the opposing curtain, he walked out. The stage lighting made the moment feel unreal, wait am I imagining this? Why was the one that stepped out of the curtain, it was Baji, it was really Baji. You gasped before you continued with your act. it was subtle but you glanced at Chifuyu who seemed also equally confused. Finally, the play was gonna end, the last scene was a recreation of the Flyer. Romeo and Juliets end. You stabbed yourself with Romeo's dagger as you fell onto Romeo's poisoned body. The crowd roared with 'woos" and cheers as they applauded loudly. You felt hands grip your waist, Baji whispered,

"Y/n, meet me in the costume closet after this. It's important."

What the hell was going on? you thought, first, Baji is distancing himself from you, then he shows up randomly in the play you in AND KISSES YOU. and NOW, he wants to talk to you alone after the play. But if you wanted to find out, you'd have to confront him. It was later after the show now, you were in front of the costume closet, no one was back there. You took a deep breath before entering, Baji was waiting, leaning against the wall.

"Hey Baji, what's up?"

"Keisuke, My name's Keisuke."

"Ookay...Keisuke."

He hated how awkward you seemed around him, he wanted you to laugh and smile like how you were with Ryusei. He sighed as he stood up and approached you, suddenly you were pushed against one of the walls.

"Y/n, do you hate me?" He whispered, coming in closer, leaving little space between your lips.

No, quite the opposite actually, you thought, but you couldn't say that. You just looked to the side avoiding his gaze. He gritted his teeth harshly

"Look at me damnit!" He growled as he forced you to look at him directly.

"Tch, you like this don't you?" He smirked as he toyed with you. He grabbed your face, roughly and chuckled. You glanced at his lips as you both closed in on each other, your eyes locked in an electric gaze, anticipation hung in the air like a delicate melody. The world seemed to pause as your lips met, creating an intimate universe where only the soft whispers of your breaths and the tender exchange of kisses existed. His hands delicately cradled your face, and your fingers entwined in the strands of his hair. The kiss unfolded like a choreography of emotions, starting with a tender exploration and building into a passionate crescendo. Time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor every fleeting moment of this shared intimacy. Your breath hitched as you felt Baji placing soft kisses and even nibbling on your sensitive neck. The warmth of his lips, coupled with the gentle pressure and softness of the kisses, created the obvious tension and the sense of both of your intimacy and arousal.

"Y/n, I'm gonna fuck you now." He already had his hand in your costume.

"Fuck, your this wet because of me, you're not scared of being caught, You little slut." You whimpered as you rode his fingers,

"K-keisuke, wait- I-" You tried to formulate a sentence but your moans cut you off.

"Uh, Y/n! Baji! Are you guys here?" You gasped as you put both your hands on your mouth, controlling your moans.

"Huh?! What you want, Chifuyu! Can't you see I'm helping my girlfriend change out of her costume, go now!"

Embarrassed, Chifuyu runs out, He sighed,

"You were right... Ryusei."

"Told ya." He smirked as he knew, the only way to get Baji to make a move on you was to make him a little jealous. 

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill. 

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!)  before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him. 

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon. 

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?” 

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.” 

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?” 

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

[sailorgoon13]

Lorenzo Berkshire

Basics:

Full Name: Lorenzo Berkshire

Nickname: Enzo

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 10 June, 1980

Heritage: English, Portuguese

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Mahogany, Dragon Heartstring, 11 1/2", Stiff

Appearance:

Hair Color: Chestnut brown

Eye Color: Brown

Skin Tone: Olive undertones

Height: 5'11"

Body Type: Lean and muscular, with defined muscles in his arms, legs, and abdomen.

Style: Sophistication, elegance, and a hint of edgy flair. Favors fitted pants paired with tailored button-down shirts. For formal events, he gravitates toward sleek suits in rich fabrics like velvet or silk, often in deep, bold colors that command attention. Loves his accessories like a bold watch or thin gold chain necklaces.

Features: Jawline, Intense gaze, Well Groomed appearance, Confidence, Style

Personality:

Traits: Funny, Charming, Competitive, Loyal, Complex

Likes: Fashion, Socializing, Intellectual Challenges

Dislikes: Incompetence, Losing, Close mindedness, Disrespect

Hobbies: Quidditch, Dueling, Drawing

Fears: Failure, Mediocrity, Rejection

Family and Friends:

Father: Mr. Berkshire

A shrewd businessman who oversees the family's investments and enterprises.

Values hard work, ambition, and determination

A dynamic and adventurous wizard

Mother: Mrs. Berkshire

Comes from an old English wizarding family known for their wealth and influence.

A socialite who is actively involved in wizarding society

Down-to-earth and compassionate. Values kindness, integrity, and loyalty

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Special Abilities: Exceptional flyer

Boggart: His friends turning to the Darker side

Patronus: Falcon

Polyjuice: Rich golden hues. Would smell like expensive cologne and freshly-cut citrus. The taste would start with a sweetness like ripe figs or dates, followed by a warm, spicy kick of mulled wine or aged oak. The after taste would be like sipping fine brandy.

Amortentia: Cologne, Subtle notes of wet grass from the Quidditch pitch, red wine

Backstory:

Lorenzo Berkshire was born into a world of wealth, privilege, and magic. His parents were prominent figures in the wizarding community, known for their influence, intellect, and refined taste. From a young age, Lorenzo was immersed in a world of luxury and sophistication, surrounded by the finest things money could buy.

Growing up, Lorenzo was groomed for success from the moment he could walk. His parents instilled in him the values of ambition, determination, and excellence, encouraging him to pursue his dreams with unwavering confidence and tenacity.

As he entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Enzo quickly established himself as a formidable presence among his peers. He excelled academically, earning top marks in his classes, while also demonstrating exceptional skill and agility on the Quidditch pitch as a Seeker for the Slytherin team.

Outside of academics and Quidditch, Lorenzo's magnetic charm and charismatic personality made him a natural leader among his classmates. He effortlessly navigated the complexities of social dynamics, forging alliances and friendships with ease, while also earning the respect and admiration of those around him.

He also had a penchant for romance, enjoying the thrill of courtship and showering his romantic interests with attention and affection. He loved taking girls out on extravagant dates, wooing them with grand gestures and heartfelt compliments. However, despite his best intentions, his relationships often fizzled out quickly, leaving him feeling disillusioned and disheartened.

Academics:

Best Subject: Charms

Favorite Subject: DADA

Favorite Professor: Snape

Worst Subject: Arithmancy

Least Favorite Subject: Transfiguration

Least Favorite Professor: Trelawny

Student Life:

Always eager to learn and expand his magical knowledge.

Quidditch is not just a sport for Enzo; it's a passion and a way of life, and he pours his heart and soul into every match

A social butterfly

Well-liked and respected by his peers, known for his magnetic charm, quick wit, and kindness

The nicest asshole you'd ever meet

Grapples with his own insecurities and fears like any teenager

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬

a/n: crossover that I really wanted to do. I've used dragons from every timeline.

gif cred: @gameofthronesdaily.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

I wanted to make this as simple as possible, so I'm not going into backgrounds or Houses or the wheres, whos and whys. But if you'd like me to make backstories for them, let me know in my inbox!

(but p.s. I can already see Kyle being a Velaryon Prince and Simon a Targaryen because of their natural features.)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒚𝒔

There's something very regal about John - he holds himself with dignity and grace. He walks with pride and knows his rank/his place. Because he's earnt it.

Meleys, who was once known as the quickest dragon in Westeros, also holds herself the exact same way John does.

She is the Red Queen, vicious, fierce and unyielding. She is royalty - looks it too.

I'm not quite sure she'd like a male rider - there would have to be a lot of winning her over. All her other riders have been female, and very bold. Yet, when Meleys saw the bravery of John, she allowed him to mount her.

But the two of them together would be an absolute force to be reckoned with. Intelligence mixed with tactics, and planning - they would soon become one of the most feared rider and mount in history.

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈

Known by a lot of positive traits, the first one being: understanding her responsibilities. Silverwing is the perfect dragon.

Great with people, friendly, and elegant. She knows when eyes are on her.

In the same way that Kyle can make a friend wherever he is. People find him very charming.

Both are great at socialising. This reflects how a dragonrider usually has similar traits to their mount.

Know their duties, but also know when enough is enough. They don't let others walk all over them.

𝐒��𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 | 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓

Ooh boy, okay so these two bonded over being grumpy and moody.

While Vermithor used to be the mount of one of Westerosi's greatest Kings, I think he would like Simon a whole lot more.

Simon, who would never make him do anything Simon wouldn't do himself.

Both of them hate too much company.

And the only way to truly get away from people is in the air.

Vermithor might be considered an old man, but he's still got that passion within him, and damn anyone who says what he can and cannot do

The pair could be gone for weeks. Only relying on one another for company, aiding each other in getting food and Vermithor being wonderful at finding bodies of water.

Although they do usually go to the same places now.

Sometimes Simon forgets how formidable Vermithor is - and that in the past anyone who approached him would burn to death by his flame.

But really Simon only sees a big lizard with wings who snores when he sleeps and grunts when he's angry. Oh, and watch out for his tail because he will try to knock you over when he's irritated.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 | 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒙𝒆𝒔

Let's gather what we know about Soap: intelligent (obviously, no one in the army reaches that level by being a complete tosser), he's active and ready to be in the field i.e, now the air.

Meraxes is known for being an avid flyer. Her first and only rider, Rhaenys the First, flew her mount so much - some say it was the collective amount of both her brother and sister riding their own beasts.

Johnny is the dragonrider who is constantly scowering for dragon eggs. If he finds them, he cares for them like they're his own children.

Johnny would literally be the Father of Dragons. Would 100% do a Dany and walk into fire to see if the eggs will hatch (don't worry the other boys look out for him and Meraxes would never let him be so stupid as to willingly hurt himself.)

If you have a different opinion I'm more than happy to hear it!

[flyertemplates]

Valentines Day Flyer Template is very modern psd flyer that will be the perfect invitation for your Valentines event or Club party! All elements are in individual layers and the text is fully editable!

2 PSD files – 4”x4” with 0.25” bleed + 1080×1080 Rgb Social media ready

[thatsdesignstore]

SPRING EQUINOX FLYER TEMPLATE V7:

- 1 Photoshop PSD file, 1 help file. - A4 size (21x29.7 cm) or (8.3x11.7 inch) with bleed (21.5x30.2 cm) or (8.5x11.9 inch). - Print Ready (CMYK, 300 DPI, bleed). - Layers are labeled, color coded and organized in groups for easy navigation. - Lady's Picture is not included. Replace it easily with your own stock via Smart Object. - Free Fonts download links provided within the help file.

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[guardianofnightmares]

Secret Meetings

"Blitzwing wasn’t wearing a muffler anymore. That must’d been some sort of relief to him - to be able to move jaw once more and to speak (not that he did). Yet an illusion of freedom dissipated each time a Con tried to move his limbs. 

His servos and pedes were bound in two sets of stasis cuffs. While guards did not put them on their highest setting, the current one was enough to limit mech’s motions to a level of an uncoordinated sparkling. Thus rendering him to a constant sitting position. 

Large wings, each Warframe's pride and most cherished thing, got adorned with shackles. A crude piece of metal, they weighed an elegant mechanism down, a single rod of durasteel connecting two armlets to each other. Such binding prevented a mech from flying and yet it allowed him to move those wings up and down to some extent. A clever solution to flyers’ need to flutter those back limbs in order to prevent a Grounded Disease.

Even designated for Decepticons cells were designed in a special way. There was barely any room left for an average Warframe to stand to their full height or to lay on a cold floor. The floor itself was situated lower then a hall between small chambers, putting local Autobot workers on a higher level then inmates.

Everything in Trypticon Prison was made with an intention to intimidate convicted mechs, to weaken their resolve without (formally) violating laws of detainment of Prisoners of War.

The fact that higher-ups of that place didn't see a problem in such a logic made Bumblebee's spark ill."

I did not know how else to explain a picture, so, have an extract from my draft for one of first chapters of my fic ([here] it is alongside a teaser). Our yellow minibot got assigned as a guard in a mentioned prison, since he knew Decepticons far better then any of the local Autobots. Presumably, their history of rivalry back on planet Earth taught him valuable information on enemy's tactics and behaviors. Little did they suspect that a minibot and some of inmates knew each other on more neutral terms.

Hope you will enjoy my work for a prompt of @blitzbee-week.

[wolveria]

👀👀👀 can I ask about the wing AU??

Yesss!! The Wing AU! Which is really just a long document with the various clones and Jedi/Sith what their wings would look like.

I'm going to post it as it is because the bullet point works, and this is the "baseline" part of the winged universe. I might have several stories stem from it, because... I just really love wings and I feel like I could go in several directions. So here it is!

There are only two beings in the galaxy with wings: those who are Force-sensitive, and the clones engineered by the Kaminoans

The wings of a child will be drab until they molt in maturity, bringing in their true colors

Touching another person’s wings without permission is disrespectful and invasive, while trusting someone enough to allow them to preen their wings is a sign of trust and closeness

The clones were engineered with wings to keep up with the Jedi during the war, though this has brought its own controversy with senators questioning if engineering wings is a step too far in cloning technology, as wings are supposed to be sacred (but the Chancellor claims this is a sign they are on the side of righteousness, though in reality he wants the clone troopers to have wings to keep up with the Jedi when he orders their execution)

Yoda has grey wings, Dooku has elegant black wings, and Darth Sidious has no wings at all (he removed them at an early age to hide his affinity for the Force, and he almost abhors the idea of them), Maul’s wings are black with red tips, and Ventress has wings of white with black tips

Anakin has beautiful golden-brown wings, Obi-Wan has soft sandstone-colored wings, and Ahsoka has white wings with blue stripes

Cad Bane has wings of blue variation, light blue at the base and darker at the tips, though they are so ragged from being unpreened and kept in bindings against his back that they can only glide, not fly, until they are restored with care and practice (which is unlikely since he always keeps them hidden and no one knows he even has them)

Clones Wings:

Hunter has dark grey wings, the same color as his eyes, and the feathers are broader and longer than a typical clones’ (his brothers used to joke that his missing height went into his wingspan)

Crosshair has silvery white wings that match his hair, and they’re especially soft around the shoulders of the wings, almost downy, but if anyone tries to touch them, they’ll get pummeled for it. Not with his hands—Crosshair has learned how to “punch” with his wings with uncanny accuracy, and other troopers learned long ago to steer clear of them

Wrecker has reddish-brown wings that have golden highlights in the sun, though he had to have cybernetic feathers and muscles implanted into his left wing after the explosion that took his eye

Tech’s wings are golden-brown, and they are prone to being unkempt much like his living space, the clone too distracted with his work to care for them, and if it wasn’t for his brothers they would be nearly unusable (which would be a shame, because he flies like a mynock on fire)

Echo used to have grey speckled wings that complimented Fives’ grey and white wings, but once he was captured, the Separatists cut them off. After he was rescued, Rex and Cody made sure there were funds to build him advanced mechanical wings so he could fly again

Omega has golden-white wings, and the Batch had to teach her how to fly because the Kaminoans didn’t show her and probably never would have

Crosshair would be the one to preen Hunter’s wings after a battle, and Hunter would preen his (Crosshair would let Wrecker preen his wings but no matter how hard he tries, Crosshair’s too sensitive, and Hunter is the only one with a light enough touch to do it)

Tech doesn’t really care who preens his wings out of the Batch, just as long as they don’t screw up and pull out any feathers, and he’s more than happy to let Wrecker do it since the big clone loves preening his brother’s feathers

If a flyer goes through a traumatic event, their feathers will molt and grow back a different color: this is what happens to the clones after Order 66, they lose their individuality/feathers, and grow all white wings to match their bleached armor (Crosshair loses his silvery feathers and they grow back in a much darker shade, showing he’s not completely under their control and is suffering for it)

There are only a few Imperial clones that don’t grow plain white feathers, but instead, they grow in pure black. The ones with black wings are selected to be Death Troopers

Crosshair’s new wings are not technically black, they’re more of a dark grey, and coincidentally, the same shade as Hunter’s wings

For clones who start to fight their chips, or their chips start to fail, they gradually shed their feathers and start growing them back with color. Such as Howzer, who started to grow back his teal-tipped feathers, and he had to bleach his wings so his superiors wouldn’t find out

The new TK troopers are given mechanical wings, but they are far inferior to the natural wings that clones are engineered with, but mechanical wings are cheaper than biological ones, and the clone troopers that remain are taken to Tantiss for experimentation

[raina-clipse423]

PONY DOKI!!

Finally able to share this one after days of losing motivation to finish it cuz I'm not used to drawing on PC! I always had an mlp au for the doki's for years now but never really got to draw them so here we are with Yuri! And I got lazy with the cutie marks skakaka not doing those

I have my own headcanons for mlp/fantasy horses in general and a some lore for the doki's in mlp universe so if you're interested in that 👇🏽

I headcanon that pegasi are a little smaller and have small "prey" bird wings (small birds like swallows, parrots, doves, etc.) and it's very rare for one to be born with big "raptor" wings (eagles, hawks) as those are usually reserved for the alicorns. The raptor winged are very strong flyers and generate very strong winds when they fly that they have to learn to control at a young age.

Yuri is a raptor winged. As a filly she was carefully taught and trained to control the air her wings generate. So careful in fact that she's known to be one of the most elegant flyers of clouds dale. Unlike Fluttershy, Yuri actually uses her wings a lot, mostly for flying high to reach bookshelves in libraries. Many ponies would quietly praise her for not stirring up the books everytime, and that her wings would actually dust off the books occasionally so she's a very welcome pony in the library.

She's also pretty tall for a pegasus, close to a unicorn build, because of that, even while walking, she's considered a very elegant mare.

[artstar1997]

The main characters of my fairy AU, which is the adaptation of the Hidden AU and its collaboration story, Journey to Harmony are made by me and @georgi-girl. Each of the seven fairy tribes and subtribes has wings and antennae based on different insects or the wings are based on their elements (the country tribe as earth fairies have leaf or flower petal or fruit slice-shaped wings, the techno tribe as water fairies have fin-like wings, etc.) and the pop trolls as fairies are more of butterfly fairies while Cooper is a moth fairy, just like his parents and his tribe and Queen Rose and her tribe, the platinum trolls are dragonfly fairies. Their outfits are based on the fashion from the Middle Ages, though the fairies' clothes are made out of natural materials, such as leaves and flower petals.

The new Platinum leader and the fairy queen of the fairy kingdom, Queen Rosetta a.k.a Rose has dragonfly wings and antennae just like the members of her court, which is known for the use of light magic. She wears roses and rose petals in her outfits because the flowers match her personality and the rose symbolizes royalty, romance, love, beauty, and courage.

Queen Poppy, the older twin of King Peppy's twin daughters and one of Queen Celestia's wards has the antennae that she, Queen Celestia, and the members of the Snack Pack share because they came from the same court. During the group's search for the Pop court, Poppy acts as a trusted best friend for Queen Rose to rely on in lending a helping hand or wing because they have been inseparable at most times, especially during lessons. She shares with her boyfriend, Branch. Her wings are based on the king swallowtail and her outfits have camellias and their petals as skirts because the flower symbolizes beauty, grace, elegance, love, longevity, happiness, and good fortune,

Branch, on the other hand, is still the cautious and protective but talented butterfly. His skills in survival and protectiveness towards his friends allowed him to join the knights and earn his title as a sir. He and his brothers have the same monarch butterfly wings and his outfits were made of Mexican sage petals and leaves. The sage plant symbolizes bravery, esteem, domestic virtue, longevity, thoughtfulness, good health, and wisdom.

DJ Suki is a music-savvy fairy herself since fairies are known to be musically inclined and she was trained to be a troubadour ever since Queen Celestia took in the Snack Pack after they were separated from the pop fairies during their escape from the giants (the bergens). Sporting red lacewing butterfly wings and wearing clothes with lotus petals, I kinda match her with lotus flowers because they symbolize transcendence, purity, rebirth, and strength.

Cooper is the only moth fairy in the group and is known to work in the castle bakery with Legsly. He was aware that he had a different antennae shape and that his wings were based on a rosy maple moth but what he didn't know was that he was born a fairy prince. His outfits are made of morning glories, which match him perfectly because the flowers symbolize eternal love, rebirth, resilience, life, and unyielding love.

Smidge is a skilled flyer and fighter in her group and she is one of the transgender members. She is the strongest because she trained with the knights alongside Branch but, she tends to be more of a berserker. Her wings are based on an orange sulphur butterfly and her outfits are made out of red dahlias, which symbolize strength, power, perseverance, and prosperity.

Biggie is a big butterfly with a heart of gold. As an animal tamer and the caretaker of the Snack Pack, he takes care of them and keeps them safe with his bow and arrows but he owns a pet fox, whom he names Mr. Dinkles. He has blue morpho butterfly wings and his outfit is made out of pansy flower petals and leaves because it matches his gentle personality and the pansy symbolizes love, loyalty, honesty, devotion, sympathy, and care.

Guy Diamond is a transgender male but he is considered the most beautiful fairy. Sporting glitter on his pink-tipped satyr butterfly wings, he can emit fairy dust from his wake when flying. Queen Rose uses it for potions while Fuzzbert uses the dust for healing. As a new dad to the newborn baby Tiny Diamond, he tries his best to be a good example to his son. His outfits are made out of amaryllis lily petals, which match him because the flower symbolizes pride, strength, determination, beauty, and love.

Satin and Chenille, the fashion twins still love fashion designing and making clothes but their outfits are known among the younger generation of the nobility, the elite, and the wealthy class. They have matching purple emperor wings, cherry blossom outfits, and ponytails that face each other like a mirror, but the sleeves, personalities, and colors set them apart. Cherry blossoms match them because of their traits and the flower symbolizes beauty, passion, love, courage, rebirth, renewal, new beginnings, and the start of spring.

Fuzzbert, though mute, is a skilled healer among his teammates, which comes in handy because of the difficulty of their quest. Using his knowledge of potions and spells to cure his fellow fairies and help anyone in need. His wings are based on a species of a swallowtail butterfly and his outfits are made of sweet pea leaves, which symbolize blissful pleasure, good wishes, kindness, gratitude, and friendship.

Legsly works at the castle bakery with Cooper but she is mainly the most outgoing among the teammates. As a baker, she has a "happy-go-lucky" attitude with a liking for any "good things" and her cooking talent impresses both her friends and guests alike. Her dress is made out of the leaves and the flower of the daffodil, which symbolizes rebirth, new beginnings, hope, joy, and good luck.