#like two sketches turned out okay? i’m just frustrated

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream's reaction to you saying 'i feel so ugly right now'

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mentions of insecurities, period and period cramps

notes: hi loveys! here’s my first post in 2024!!! i know it’s been a long time since i uploaded something and i’m so sorry about that :( but i really hope you guys like this little something~ i’ll try to post at least once a month this year, i’m currently finishing up my last semester in uni so if time allows it, i’ll post more after i graduate! hehe, in the meantime, take care everyone! sending all my love to you <3

𔘓 Mark:

The two of you were preparing to head out for dinner but you were taking longer than usual to get ready. “Babe? Don’t mean to rush you, but we have to leave soon to make it for our reservation,” Mark tells you as he leans against the doorframe of your shared toilet. You huff out in frustration, before muttering a quick, “Just give me a minute.” Mark takes in the mess in the toilet and the deep frown on your face and cautiously asks, “Hey…everything okay?” You drop the make-up brush on the counter and let your shoulders sag in defeat. You stare at Mark through the mirror and let out a weak, “I feel so ugly.” You see Mark’s face morph into one of immediate confusion, his eyes widened slightly as he opens his mouth to protest. “What? You are not ugly… babe, come on.” Mark comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. “But I feel ugly… nothing looks good on me. I just feel like I look so bad.” “Stop it. You are so beautiful, look at you!” Mark almost exclaims as he nods towards the mirror. You sigh as you lean against him, eyeing at the two of you through the mirror. “I don’t know…” you said, sighing. You feel Mark squeeze you tighter as he leans his head against yours gently. “Well, I think you’re so pretty… like all the time… but if you’re not feeling it today, we don’t have to go out, we can stay home and do whatever you want.” You shake your head, “Just give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out.” “You sure?” You gave him an assuring nod before he placed a quick kiss on the side of your head. “My pretty girl,” Mark mutters as he takes one last look at you, before he leaves to wait for you in the living room.

𔘓 Renjun:

“I feel so ugly right now,” you mumble beside Renjun on the bed. You’re lying down with your back facing your boyfriend, already sulking because of your period cramps and now the overwhelming feeling of insecurities that returns during your period has caught up to you. You made that comment more to yourself than anything but Renjun heard it anyway. “Love, you are not ugly…” “Okay, but I feel really ugly right now,” you tell him as you turn around in bed to face him. He puts down his ipad filled with sketches to brush your hair away from your face, running his fingers gently through your hair. “I’m sorry you’re feeling like that, but I can assure you that you look so beautiful right now…” Renjun tells you with sincerity in his voice, his eyes filled with adoration as he keeps running his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” “I don’t know, but a nap sounds really good right now.” “Should we cuddle and nap together then?” Renjun asks as he begins shifting down from his sitting position so he could hold you in his arms. “Sounds perfect,” you tell him as you snuggle closer to him.

𔘓 Jeno:

It’s the first time Jeno is staying over at your place. And it’s probably the first time he’s going to see you barefaced. It’s not that you look too different without makeup, at least you don’t think so. But for some reason, after removing your makeup and changing into your pyjamas, you hesitate to leave the toilet and join Jeno, who’s in the living room waiting for you. When you finally do, you’re covering your face slightly and trying not to face him directly. Jeno eyes you as you come to sit awkwardly beside him on the sofa. “Why are you hiding your face?” Jeno says as he chuckles. “I don’t have makeup on…” “And?” Jeno says as he sits up to face you, but you turn your face away from him. “And I feel like I look ugly right now.” “You’re crazy…let me see,” Jeno mumbles as he reaches out to pull your hands gently away from your face. “Nooo…” You try to resist against Jeno but you are no match against his strength. As your hands fall from your face, you close your eyes shut and look down. Jeno uses his fingers to tilt your face up as you slowly open your eyes, only to meet his. He scans your face, like he’s trying to memorise every feature. “You’re still so pretty, though?” You break eye contact as you feel blood rushing to your face, there’s no way you’re not blushing after that. Jeno only smiles at your reaction, his eyes crinkling into his signature eye smile. “You’re just too cute,” he mutters as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your cheek.

𔘓 Haechan:

“Hello? Babe, are you there?” Haechan’s face flashes from your screen. He has his glasses on and he’s running his fingers through his hair to keep it away from his eyes. “Hi baby, yea, I’m here.” “Why isn’t your camera on?” “I don’t want to turn it on,” you tell him. A frown finds its way to his face as he blurts out a “What? Why?” “Just don’t want to…” Haechan clicks his teeth, “Come on baby, I miss you… wanna see you.” You sigh, before mumbling out, “I look ugly today…” Haechan’s eyes widen as he lets out a dramatic gasp, which causes you to frown even though he can’t see it. “No way?! Prove it, let me see!” “Tsk, shut up!” “No, seriously, I’ve never seen you ugly in my life so I have to see it at least once. Come on, show me your ugly face~” Haechan has a cheeky grin on his face as you finally turn your camera on but he doesn’t say anything. “See… I told you.” “There’s that pretty face… Sorry to burst your bubble baby, but you’re not ugly,” Haechan tells you teasingly. You can’t help but sigh, “I feel ugly though…” “Did something happen?” Haechan gets serious as he senses that you’ve probably been feeling like crap all day, plus he feels bad for not being able to be there to comfort you. You shake your head, “Just one of those days, I guess.” “I’m sorry you feel this way baby, wish I was there with you.” “Yea, me too.” You sigh as you lie down on your bed. “If it makes you feel better, I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Haechan tells you, his voice is deeper since it's late into the night and it makes you more flustered than you can imagine. But you try to deflect that by saying, “Wow, I can’t believe you even dare to look at other girls.” “No, never. You’re the only one, that’s why you’re the most beautiful.” “Oh, shut up!”

𔘓 Jaemin:

“Look here, honey!” Jaemin tells you as he holds out his phone camera towards you. From across the table, you cover your face slightly, shaking your head to indicate you don’t want him to take a picture of you right now. “Just take pictures of the food instead for today, Jaem,” you tell him, gently pushing his phone. Jaemin whines out a quiet “why~” as a small pout forms on his lips. “I just feel kinda ugly today,” you tell him quietly, looking down at your plate as your insecurities about your appearance overwhelms you. “Why would you say that? You’re the prettiest girl here,” Jaemin tells you and he reaches over to hold your hand in his, soothing you as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Of course you would say that, you’re my boyfriend…” “I’m only telling you that because it’s the truth, princess.” You look up at him and can’t help but smile, “There’s that pretty smile.” “Stop it, you’re being so corny right now,” you say as your smile only grows wider. “I know, and you love it," Jaemin tells you cheekily as he wiggles his brows at you. You can't help but laugh at his expression before two begin digging into your food.

𔘓 Chenle:

This is the fourth outfit you’re putting on and it still doesn’t look right. Your hair is flat and the top you have on just doesn’t fit you like it used to. “Chenle, how about this one?” You ask as you turn away from the full-length mirror in your shared bedroom to your boyfriend on the bed. His eyes shot up from his phone for a mere second before he blurts out a “This is nice too.” You sigh in frustration, “You’re not helping.” Chenle puts his phone down, “But I mean it? They all look nice on you. What was wrong with the previous ones anyway?” “They all looked weird.” “No they don’t?” “Yes, they do.” “Baby, you look fine… let’s just get going already.” “You don’t get it, I- Nothing fits right, and I just feel so ugly right now.” You feel so silly for acting like this. At your big age, you’re standing in front of your boyfriend with tears of frustration in your eyes because you can’t find an outfit you feel good in. Chenle immediately gets up to close the distance between you two. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tells you as he notices the tears in your eyes. You let out a groan as you quickly wipe your tears away before they have a chance to escape. You really hate feeling this way. “Look, I really mean it when I said you look nice, okay? You always look beautiful to me.” “Really?” Chenle replies by nodding aggressively. “But I still don’t like this outfit,” you tell him as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “It’s okay, let’s put a new outfit together then. Here, I’ll help,” Chenle says as he gently drags you into your walk-in closet by your hand.

𔘓 Jisung:

The two of you are on a date and found a spot to take pretty pictures. After taking a couple of pictures together, Jisung offers to take some solo shots for you. You stand and pose while Jisung tries to take photos from flattering angles. “There, I think I got a few good ones. You look so pretty,” Jisung tells you as he hands you your phone to review the pictures. Unlike Jisung, you didn’t really like how you look. Your lack of reaction causes Jisung to question, “What’s wrong, baby?” “Nothing, I don’t know… I just feel like I look so ugly today.” Jisung shakes his head aggressively as a pout begins to form on his lip, “You’re not! It’s my fault, I’ll try to take them again.” “No, your angles are fine. It’s just me…” Jisung gazes at you as you continue to frown at the pictures on your phone. He grabs your phone, causing you to look at him. “You know you’re really not ugly, right? Stop looking at those pictures… just stand here and look pretty for me! I’ll just take a few more!” Jisung says as he takes several steps back, bending his knees and tilting his head to get the best angles. You can’t help but chuckle at the strange contortion Jisung is in and as you smile, Jisung hypes you up, “That’s it! That’s it, you’re looking so pretty right now!” It’s safe to say you like these new set of pictures better, Jisung does too, which is why he uploaded the one of you laughing at him on his instagram story, with the song: Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

[suguru-getos]

Genshin men x Sexual frustration

A/N: How our Genshin blorbos express their sexual desires, needs for us. <3 Including how they are at it, LMAOOO I am in the 5.5 hr meeting and yk now my mind’s had it cause I’m thinking about smut. 😭

Characters included: Kaveh, Ayato

Kaveh:

Our dearest, most wonderful man is quite expressive with his feelings. Whether sexual/romantic. He would nudge you gently, as soon as he has your attention he is all over you. Kissing you passionately, hands moving across your body, caressing your curves, cupping your face, squeezing your ass, massaging your titties. He is ALL OVER YOU. Almost in an overwhelming way, until you gasp & mewl out in pleasure, just as turned on as him. He has a slight tint in his cheeks with the way your half-lidded eyes look at him, his pupils humanly dilate out of absolute adoration for you. <3 Would start kissing the sweet spot of your neck and groan gently, asking you sweet questions like, “Can we take this to bed?” // “God I need you so fuckin’ bad Y/N.” etc.

Will take absolute control but he will be gentle about it, reassuring, observing your expressions, how you react to his tones. He’s probably the guy to sketch you naked after you are fucked to slumber by him. <3

He does not like teasing you, but doesn’t like being teased either. If you tease him he doesn’t mind giving you a handprint or two on your ass, kissing it better. He is the definition of a wonderful soft, pleasure dom. Likes to fuck you deeper once he tips off the edge, grinding his cock against your filled womb as he groans. “Mine- mine— all mine—” Kaveh is a possessive mf okay? Okay.

Ayato Kamisato:

This man is just— menacing with the things that he wants. He is quite territorial about it, barging into your space and whispering things like. “If you might have some time for me,” sass king 101 and would edge you for hours when you try to tease him especially when he has all this pent up desires inside of him. Won’t let you cum until you are a babbling mess, arched back and whines escaping you begging him to let you tip off the edge.

Ayato would tend to you after, once you ride on the blissful high of several orgasms as he thrusts his load deeper inside you, his words hinting the slightest of breeding kink he harbors. “You will look so good— all pregnant and full-” as he peppers kisses across your face tenderly.

[irb-pascalito-99]

Text you Later

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel calls while at work for some lunch time shenanigans.

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, pictures, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter twelve of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God to read more visit A03.

I try to ignore the buzz of my phone in my back pocket as I carry my end of the armoire. Bill huffs when I adjust the piece of furniture in my arms. Once we’re in position we put the legs down carefully.

I automatically pull out my phone to check my texts once my hands are free. A smile spreads across my face when I see it’s Joel again.

Joel: Meet up for lunch?

I bite my lip and look up at Bill who has continued to walk around the store adjusting other items. I lean my hip against the armoire as I type out my reply.

Me: Can’t :( leaving early today for Ellie’s appointment

Frank appears over my shoulder as I press send. I jump as he attempts to glance at the screen.

“Who you texting?” He asks with a sly smile. I shove the phone back in my pocket. I shrug in response and walk toward the front counter. “A man?”

“No Frank,” I lie. “It was just Maria asking if we could hang out tonight.”

The look on his face says he clearly doesn’t believe me. I ignore the next buzz from my phone, and the one that comes immediately after.

“Okay then…” Frank says. “Well I just wanted to see if you wanted this desk we just got in. I know you mentioned wanting to get something Ellie can use in that room.”

Ellie and I agreed to change our parents’ room to an art space the two of us can use. We’ve already packed all the stuff that remains there in boxes. Joel helped put them in the attic for safekeeping. Tomorrow everyone is coming over to help move the furniture out and paint the walls

I follow Frank to the back of the store where we keep the inventory before we put it out. While his back is turned to me I quickly pull out my phone to respond to Joel.

Joel: But I miss you…

Joel: Can we call at least?

Me: Give me like 15 minutes ;)

I throw my phone back in my pocket as Frank stops in front of an old writer’s desk. I run my hand along the cherry stained wood. It’s in great condition, probably worth a decent amount of money.

There’s a lot of drawers as well. I open a couple, they seem decently deep so Ellie could probably store a decent amount of supplies in it. She’s been getting really into sketching lately so a place where she could sit and draw would be really nice.

“How much do you want for it?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” I turn to Frank as he waves his hand. I give him a frustrated look, while I appreciate his generosity it doesn’t feel right to constantly like Frank and Bill take care of me. I don’t want to be their charity case, but Frank won’t hear it. “Think of it as me supporting local artists. You can pay us back with a painting or have Ellie draw something.”

“I’m sure Bill would love whatever she draws of him,” I joke. Frank laughs. I run my hand over the wood again. It would really mean a lot for Ellie to have her own dedicated space in the room.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Frank grins as I concede. He pulls a SOLD sign out of his back pocket and puts it on top of the desk.

“I’ll have Bill load it up when we come over tomorrow.” He says.

He wraps an arm around me while we walk back up front. I feel my phone buzz again. Frank must hear the sound of the vibration because he looks at me amusedly.

“Maria again?” I shrug and walk around the counter to keep myself busy until I can find an excuse to go somewhere private and talk to Joel. “Girl can’t seem to get enough today, you’ve been glued to that phone all morning.”

“It’s probably that contractor guy,” Bill grumbles from across the room. I snap my head to him, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. “The one she’s all goo-goo eyes for.”

So much for not blushing. I try to hide my burning face from view of Bill and Frank. I feel like a child caught crushing on the popular boy at school.

“Ahh yeah, Joel right?” Frank says. He turns back to me. “Is he coming to help tomorrow?”

“Joel? I think so. I know Maria said Tommy’s coming to help out with the muscle so I’d imagine Joel would be there too.” I try to act casual, but my voice comes out slightly higher than normal.

“Hmm, yeah we know that one has some muscle,” Frank says. I blush even more, just barely managing to stop myself from dropping my jaw at Frank’s comment.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Frank.” Frank laughs.

“Just making an observation,” he chides. “I think you could use a man like that…”

“Stop,” I beg. I hide my face in my hands. Frank laughs. Bill walks over to help a customer who just walked in while Frank pats me on the shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”

Frank shakes his head, still laughing. I walk toward the back of the shop. I take one more look over my shoulder before I disappear into the backroom.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out my phone. I lean against the bathroom wall as I call Joel. He answers almost immediately.

“Someone’s needy today,” I joke. I make sure to keep my voice down so anyone who is outside of the bathroom door can’t hear.

“Babygirl, you have no idea.” I shudder at his nickname for me. His voice is deep with a sultry thickness pouring out like molasses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t seen you all week, it’s killing me.”

“I know,” I respond. I half whisper into the phone. “I’m sorry, I miss you too. It’s just been crazy with work and Ellie. Getting Ellie caught up with classes has been rough. Turns out I’m really bad at math…”

“Darlin’ why are you whisperin’?” Joel asks.

“I’m in the bathroom at the shop. I don’t want Bill and Frank to hear me, they’ve already been making jokes about me crushing on you. I don't need them to hear anything else.” Joel laughs on the other end. “Stop that, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it kinda is.” I roll my eyes. “So you’re crushing on me huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble. Joel laughs again and then the line goes silent.

“So…what are you wearing?”

“Oh, so it’s one of those phone calls. You’re really over there making fun of me while you’re waiting for me to help you get off?” I tease.

“Well I was going to pick you up and fuck you on a back road in my truck somewhere, but someone couldn’t get away from work.” I whimper at the thought.

It has been getting increasingly harder to sneak around these days. I’ve had to put so much focus on Ellie in order to prove to Marlene that things are solid with us. Joel has been extremely understanding, and my relationship with Ellie has never been better, but it’s been frustrating not to have alone time with him.

“You like that huh? Want to ride my cock in the front seat of my car, naughty girl.” I feel my pussy start to drip at his words. Fuck, I need him. “Go on, tell me what you’re wearing princess.”

“I can send you a picture…” I say. I smile when I hear Joel groan.

I position myself in front of the mirror and adjust my clothes a bit. I pull my neckline down a bit to show off more of my breasts. I turn to the side slightly so he can see the curve of my ass and then hook my thumb in the top of my jeans and pull them down just enough that he can see the top of my lacy black panties.

I take a couple pictures until I get one that I really like and send it over to him. I hear him moan when I pull the phone back to my ear, and then the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it.

“Another baby, please. Let me see you.” I go back to the door and crack it open for a second. I don’t see anyone outside so I close it and lock the door.

I walk back to the mirror, setting the phone on the counter for a second, and take off my shirt. I push my jeans off as well and stand in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and underwear. I should be embarrassed doing this in the store bathroom, but a rush if adrenaline pumps through my veins as I position myself in front of the mirror. I nice one hand down, ghosting the lips of my pussy on the outside of my panties. I bite my lip and throw my head back, taking the picture and immediately sending it to Joel.

“Fuckk baby, so pretty for me.” I moan quietly at his praise. “Touch yourself gorgeous. Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to hear you.”

I lean against the wall again and snake my fingers inside my underwear. I run them through my soaking folds, my underwear drenched as I hear the faint slapping sound of Joel’s fist moving up and down his cock.

“Oh Joel, I’m so wet for you,” I moan, making sure to keep my voice down.

Joel groans and a shiver runs down my spine. I dip two fingers inside my hole, my thumb starting to make circle motions. I whimper into the phone as I start to pump my fingers in and out. I try to match my pace to the sounds of Joel jacking off on the other end of the line. He moans loudly at my noises.

“Tell me what you’re doin’ right now sugar. What’s makin’ you make those sweet little noises?” He starts to pick up his pace, panting into the phone desperately.

“I’m touching myself.” I huff. “I got…got two fingers inside… wish it was your fingers, or your cock. Fuck, Joel wish you were splitting me open right now.”

Joel groans again, the sounds of him pumping himself getting louder.

“God, babygirl fuck. I wish I was there too.” I speed up my fingers, my climax building as he goes on. “Wish it was your pussy clenching around my cock right now instead of my hand. Got me fuckin’ jackin’ off in a goddamn parking lot, that’s what you do to me.”

I moan, a little louder than I probably should have. I move the phone to rest between my face and shoulder so I can cover my mouth as my other hand continues to move underneath my panties. I close my eyes and picture him in his truck outside his job site, thrusting his cock into his hands with his phone to his ear.

“Can anyone see you?” I ask. Joel chuckles darkly at my question.

“I don’t think so, not right now,” he grunts into the phone again. “Why gorgeous? That get you off? You like the idea of me gettin’ caught fuckin’ my fist to the thought of you?”

My stomach tightness and I moan again. I’m so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah, I think it does.” His words send another wave of pleasure through me. I’m right on the edge. “I think you like what you do to me. Think you like how desperate you make me, can’t stop thinkin’ of that pussy all goddamn week. You gettin’ close baby?”

“Yes, god yes, Joel please don’t stop.” Joel groans again.

“That’s it darlin’, I’m almost there too. Come for me babygirl. Come for me.”

I keep pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy until I’m finally pushed over the edge, panting and moaning around my other hand as I try to muffle my noises.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to follow. His groans sound more animal than human as I hear him pump his cock a couple more times and then stop. We both pant into the phone as we come down.

After my heart slows down I walk back to my discarded shirt and jeans on the floor and put them back on. I hear Joel’s belt clink again on the other line as well.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Joel asks as I straighten my shirt in the mirror.

“Yes, but remember it’s going to be a full house so you need to behave,” I remind him. He scoffs at my remark.

“Darlin’ I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” I chuckle at his remark.

“Would a gentleman jack himself off in a parking lot in the middle of the day?” I ask.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself tomorrow, no matter how hard it’ll be after not seein’ ya for so long.”

I smile sheepishly, giddy at the thought of him having missed me so much after just a week.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Joel agrees and we say our goodbyes. I wash my hands before heading back out to the front of the shop.

To read more visit A03

[kayentokk]

Portraying Bakugo Katsuki

— Pairing; Katsuki Bakugo x GN! Reader

— Synopsis; People often see Bakugo in a harsh light, and he’s gotten used to it. However, when you portray him in your fluorescent light, he thinks he likes it a bit more. Based on this Drabble I made. —contains; fluff, doting, frustration, soft! Bakugo(?)

—wc; 682

—A/N; just a cute lil thought

“Ughhh,” that was the 10th time you sighed, in 3 minutes.

You frantically dragged your poor abused eraser across your paper, for the 6th time, and created a hole in your erased pencil stained paper. Angrily, you balled up the paper and threw it in the trash bin by your desk, which was overflown with countless of your other crumbled up drawings.

It was like nothing was working. You had great models right in front of you on your tablet screen, and you just didn’t like what you were producing.

Shutting the computer screen, you dug your head into your arms and closed your eyes. Deciding that he’d had enough of your ‘fits’ Bakugo gruffly asks,

“The hell is wrong now?”

“I just can’t do it,” you reply defeatedly.

He sighs, ”do what?”

“This art class assignment,” you groan, “no matter what I do or who I draw my creative juices just aren’t flowing to me, ya know?”

He just grunts a “mm”

Then it hit you, and you sat up to stare at him. And almost like clockwork, he had sensed what you were thinking and immediately huffed out a,

“No.”

“Awww cmon’ pleasee?”

“No Y/n.”

“Please? I’ll help you with anything, anytime.”

“No.”

“You just want me to fail,” you mumble under your breath with a pout.

“Oh for fucks sake,” he says running a hand through his hair, “make it quick.”

He gives in. He always gives in to you. Most times, he wants to punch himself in the face for it, but he just can’t say no.

“Yay! You’re the best Kats!” You quickly perk up.

“Yeah yeah,” he replies.

You got him a stool from your kitchen and placed it next to your spinny desk chair.

“Okay sit and I’ll tell you how to pose.”

He sat with hesitance, as you pulled up a picture on your phone of a model with their arm over their head facing towards the left, the perfect pose.

You showed him with the biggest smile on your face,

“No.”

“Aww cmon,” you whined.

“Y/n.”

“Fine, just sit still, straighten your back, and lift your chin.”

He did as you asked, a bit awkwardly at that but he did it. You turned your lamp light on the right side of his face and sat for a moment amazed at what you saw.

His sharp jawline relaxed but still prominent in his features, the vein in his neck bulging a bit at you staring deeply at his features. His beautiful dark crimson eyes aren’t tensed or harsh they’re just perfect, and his skin almost glowing from the radiating fluorescent lamp light.

You quickly began sketching, noticing the small drop of sweat that rolled off of his neck and down to his collarbone, he was nervous. He’d never been sketched before.

“Calm down I’m almost done,” you said trying to ease his nerves.

When you were finished you put your pencil down, looked at the drawing, looked back at him, and smiled. You were content, no more than that, happy? You finally got the drawing you wanted. You captured his full essence on the paper, from the neck up.

You turned the notebook around to show him, well there wasn’t many pages left after an hour of you trying and failing, with the biggest grin on your face.

“Look! It’s good right? You’re such a good model maybe you can do this for me all the time-“

“Y/n,” he promptly cut you off.

“I know I know, thanks for helping me. I’ll go get some water for my hard working model,” you giggled while getting up to walk to your kitchen.

Bakugo found himself staring at the drawing intently, was that really him? The way you captured him on the blank piece of paper made him seem almost, calm?

You came bustling back into the room with two chilled glasses of water.

“Here ya go, and thanks again,” you said handing him the water.

“Mhm,” he grunts.

And deep down inside he thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind you drawing him again…

@/firefly-graphics for the divider

[ghosttotheparty]

@thorniest-rose this is ur fault your tags on part one made me emotional so here’s one more part <3 love u also i added it as chapter two of broken brain <3

cw: tics; self-deprecation

“Hey, baby.”

Eddie looks up from where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, his legs crossed on his seat in front of him, setting his pen down.

“Hi.”

“How’re you?” Steve asks softly, taking off his vest and dropping it on the countertop, coming close.

“Having a rough day,” Eddie says, the words barely out of his mouth before his chin jerks to the side, turning his head sharply. He closes his eyes, sighing heavily, and before he can open them, Steve is sliding his hands over Eddie’s neck gently, rubbing it tenderly. Eddie moves slowly, shifting to face Steve, and before he can lean into Steve’s torso, his hand flies out and hits Steve’s hip hard. Eddie flinches, pressing his hand to the spot carefully.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Steve murmurs, one of his hands pushing through Eddie’s hair. Eddie’s stomach twists, and he huffs quietly, closing his eyes. “What is it?”

Eddie shakes his head, opening his eyes to look up at him.

Steve touches his face, his fingers brushing over his cheek, over the rough, sensitive skin of his scar, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

Eddie exhales, turning his cheek into Steve’s palm, feeling the tension leave his body.

“…How are you not tired of me?” he asks after a moment.

Steve blinks, his expression hardening, but his hands remain soft on him.

“What do you mean?” he asks in a small voice.

“I just…” Eddie shrugs weakly. “Feel like you should be fed up with me by now,” he half-jokes, but Steve frowns, his fingers trailing over Eddie’s jaw.

“Why would you think that?” he asks quietly, like he’s offended.

Eddie blinks at him, his eyes stinging a little bit. His hand tightens on Steve’s hip, one of his fingers holding loop of his jeans.

“I keep hitting you,” he says weakly. It happens often. Not as often as his whistling, or his head jerking, his eyes squeezing shut or rolling to the ceiling, but often. When they’re on the sofa, when they’re hugging, when they’re just talking. Eddie wants to cry every time, but Steve doesn’t even acknowledge it, except for the occasional it’s okay.

“You can’t control that, babe,” Steve says adamantly.

“I know, it’s just…” Eddie looks away, frustrated. “I keep hurting you.”

“I think you think you hit a lot harder than you do.”

“Steve,” Eddie says seriously, tugging at his belt loop, looking up at him. “I almost smacked you in the face the other day.”

“You redirected,” Steve says lightly, shrugging.

“Steve.”

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”

“I…” Of course he doesn’t. But it feels like Steve should be mad at him. Or at least annoyed. “I don’t know.”

“Well I’m not,” Steve says firmly, holding his chin. “Ever. Okay?”

It doesn’t make Eddie feel better. He exhales, looking down, at the blue ink on the top of Steve’s thigh, rough doodles on his jeans from when he gets bored at work.

Steve sighs, pushing Eddie’s hair back before he lets go of him, moving so Eddie’s hand falls from his hip, and he pushes Eddie’s sketchbook out of the way, looking at the drawing on the open page. It’s an unfinished sketch, messy and not very good at all in Eddie’s overly humble opinion, but Steve smiles at it.

“‘S good,” he says softly as he pulls himself up onto the counter. Eddie watches him, watches the muscles of his arms flex, and his cheeks flush with warmth when Steve reaches for the armrests of his chair and easily pulls him closer, between his legs.

Eddie looks up at him, that familiar feeling settling in his chest, and he reaches his hands up, setting his arms across Steve’s legs, holding his hips again.

“Talk,” Steve says softly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” He touches said head, runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair, scratches at his scalp. Eddie wants to cry.

Eddie sighs, leaning to rest his cheek on Steve’s knee, closing his eyes.

“Just…” His shoulder jerks slightly. He ignores it. “I don’t know. Kinda crazy you haven’t gotten sick of me yet.”

“Why would I ever get sick of you?” Steve asks softly, playing with Eddie’s hair. “Hm?”

“Because I keep hitting you,” Eddie says sullenly, letting go of Steve’s hips. “Because I… throw things and hit things and I’m… noisy.” He pushes Steve’s shirt up with one hand, the other falling under the island, untucking it and pressing his hands under the fabric to Steve’s skin. “I interrupt. I’m annoying.”

Steve pulls his hands away and untucks the rest of his shirt, holding it up with one hand so Eddie can trace his scars softly, gazing.

“You’re not annoying, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t believe him, and Steve can tell.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.”

Eddie looks at him without lifting his head. His vision is obstructed by his hair, and Steve gently moves it out of the way.

“You are not annoying,” he says again, softer, his eyes shining earnestly. “I know you can’t control it.”

“That just makes it more annoying,” Eddie grumbles.

“No, it doesn’t.” Steve’s fingers drag through his hair.

Eddie exhales, looking back at where his hand is tracing Steve’s scars.

“You’re annoyed by it,” Steve says, and Eddie nods against his leg. “I’m not, Eddie.”

Eddie is quiet, a tingling starting on his shoulders like he’s going to shiver, and he tenses.

“Alright, Eddie, look at me,” Steve says, his voice shifting, tapping Eddie’s cheek to prompt him to lift his head. Eddie does, muttering a soft, “Hold on,” and looking away. He pushes his shoulders back, closing his eyes, and Steve waits quietly, patiently, until Eddie’s head jerks back violently, and his shoulders shrug up suddenly. A second passes before Eddie drops his head, sighing and relaxing.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Eddie shivers before he looks up at him tiredly, and Steve leans down, holding his face between his face, looking into his eyes.

“I need you to, like, really listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes.

“When I say that you’re annoying,” Steve says, still looking into his eyes, “or obnoxious, or any of those things, I don’t mean it. I’m just teasing. And if you don’t like it, or if it hurts you, I’ll stop.” He looks so earnest that Eddie almost hurts. “And when I say those things,” Steve says slowly, carefully and intentionally, “I’m talking about how you act with the kids, usually. When you’re…” He shrugs, smiling softly. “Immature and chaotic. But even though I tease, I love when you act like that.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Even though it riles them up?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “Because they get to just be kids when you’re fucking around with them.”

Oh.

Eddie smiles softly.

“And,” Steve continues, “when I say those things, I am never, ever talking about your tics. You understand me?”

Eddie nods weakly, his eyes burning.

“You are not annoying to me, Eddie,” Steve says softly, leaning down and leaving a careful kiss on his lips. “I promise.”

“Don’t you get tired?” Eddie asks, exasperated. Steve looks at him.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks quietly.

“It’s constant, Steve,” Eddie says, his eyes burning. “And you just… put up with it, you— you’re always getting me ice, or holding my hand still, or getting pillows for me, or…” He exhales, looking up at Steve desperately. “You’re always taking care of me.”

“I like taking care of you,” Steve says adamantly. Eddie looks away, holding back an eyeful. “Eddie, I’m serious, look at me.”

Eddie looks up at him. His lips are pressed together, his eyes shining with some unreadable, desperate emotion.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans down and kisses him, holding his face between his hands so his cheeks are squishing under his palms, sucking softly on his lower lip, slow and careful like everything he’s ever done with Eddie.

He pauses when they part, their foreheads pressed together, breathing a little hard, holding Eddie close. Eddie slides his other hand under Steve’s shirt. His skin is warm. His scars are rough, the skin thick and sensitive, tender evidence of his survival. Eddie likes to kiss them.

“I love you,” Steve whispers.

Eddie’s eyes open. His breath escapes him, and it’s like his bones melt. He slumps, squeezing his eyes shut as the words wash over him, his hands squeezing Steve’s sides softly.

“Really?” he chokes, pulling away after a moment. Steve’s eyes are tear-filled.

“Really really,” he says softly. Eddie blinks tears back, sliding his hands over Steve’s sides.

“I don’t get tired of taking care of you,” Steve murmurs, looking at Eddie’s face, his thumb brushing over his trembling lip, “because taking care of you, and helping you, and looking after you is… me loving you.” He pauses for a moment, letting their foreheads touch. “And I don’t ever get tired of loving you.”

Eddie’s whole body hurts.

He chokes Steve’s name weakly, his voice broken, almost squeaking, too high and small for it to even be understood, but Steve just kisses him even though he can’t kiss back, because tears are streaming down his cheeks, over Steve’s fingers.

A small sob escapes Eddie, and Steve pulls him into a hug, running his hands over his head as he buries his face in Steve’s belly. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, his hands pressing into the small of his back, against his warm skin. Steve’s hands are shaking as they run through his hair.

Eddie’s shoulders jerk as he cries, just once, and Steve’s hands smooth over them gently, sweetly, gathering his hair back.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve's voice says softly, and Eddie feels like he’s surfacing from under cold water, gasping for breath, like his lungs are breathing properly for the first time in his life.

“I love you too,” he chokes, lifting his head and looking up at him. His vision is blurry with tears. He can still see Steve’s smile. “I love you so much.”

Steve laughs softly, sniffling, leaning down to kiss him chastely.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to breathe evenly, focusing on the feeling of Steve’s hands running over his cheeks, wiping his tears away. His head shakes slightly, but Steve doesn’t move his hands. He leans down to kiss his forehead.

“God,” Eddie exhales, holding his hips above the waistband of his jeans. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve whispers. “You don’t have to apologize and you don’t have to thank me.”

He leans down and kisses his lips gently, murmuring a soft I love you, and Eddie reaches up, sliding his hands over Steve’s shoulders, over his cheeks, pulling him down to kiss him harder. After a moment he remembers that he’s sitting, and without pulling away, he stands, kicking his chair back noisily, one of his hands pushing into Steve’s hair as the other clutches at the small of his back. Steve’s legs wrap around his waist, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, holding Eddie’s face like he’ll fall apart if he lets go.

They’re both breathless and panting when they part. Steve’s fingers dance over the sides of Eddie’s neck, over his scars, making him shiver. (It’s a nice shiver.) They press their foreheads together, sharing breaths, eyes closed.

Steve pulls away after a moment, caressing Eddie’s cheeks.

“I’m not gonna get tired of you, Eddie,” he whispers. “You’re stuck with me, baby.”

Eddie laughs softly, sniffling and nuzzling his face into Steve’s cheek.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[pinknightsinmymind]

【 from rivalry to idolatry, pt. 2 - ellie williams 】

ellie williams x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

link to part one

content: modern!au, angst, arguments again, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, mutual (secret but then not) pining, confession, eventual fluff, resolution

a/n: part two!!! the only reason i split this up into two parts is bc it would've been WAY too long as one. i hope yall are enjoying this oneshot mini series :)

Things between you and Ellie continued to be awkward for months to come, and it only amplified once the spring semester started. Competition was right around the corner, and once more you two would have to face each other. Ellie would never admit it, but she was out of ideas. She had no idea what to make, no idea what the judges wanted, what people expected of her. She knew they wanted something grand, but she didn’t know how to give that to them.

She’d stay in the pottery room for hours, sketching, sculpting, testing out different forms, but nothing came to her. She was so lost. She didn’t know what to do with herself, she didn’t know how she felt towards you, and she didn’t know what to do for this fucking competition. She kept shaping the clay, moving it and testing it, and for a second it felt like she had an idea. A morsel of inspiration. She followed the clay as it moved, twisting it and turning it, then nothing. Nothing. Nothing was coming to her.

“Fuck!” she yelled. She stopped pushing the pedal and smashed the clay with her fists. She tilted over the potter’s wheel, the tabletop making a loud clang! as it collided with the ground. “Motherfucker!” She kicked the clay a few times then collapsed on the floor as hot, angry tears poured out her eyes.

“E-Ellie?” a voice asked in the distance. You had forgotten one of your sketchbooks the last time you had been in the pottery room, so you made a trip that night to retrieve it. You could've waited till the morning, but you needed it to attempt to work on your competition piece. Ellie looked up to see you had entered the room, which made her despair feel a thousand times worse. She had always put up an image with you. She made herself look tough, strong, like the biggest asshole on campus, and now here she was collapsed on the floor sobbing in frustration. You had seen her be weak.

“[Y/N], please, leave me alone.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just stay away from me.”

“I can’t just leave you like this, Ellie,” you insisted. You stepped closer to where she was, and she couldn’t believe you weren’t listening.

“[Y/N], goddammit, I said get the fuck away from me. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

You didn’t listen to her and instead got down on your knees to where she was. You extended your hand towards her.

“Hey, just talk to me,” you whispered. She shook her head.

“No. Not you. Not you of all people.”

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t understand. I don’t know how you do it. How do you not snap under the pressure?”

“It’s not easy, but I don’t let myself get consumed by it,” you answered. It clearly wasn’t the response she wanted, because she seemed even more upset than before.

“Just fuck off, please.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“I don’t want your fucking help!” she shouted. She stood up quickly and you followed suit.

“God, Ellie, I can't believe you. I am so tired!” you yelled back. You had always argued back with her, but she hadn’t expected you to snap at her during a moment like this. She had hoped you would just give up on her and leave.

“Tired of what?” she asked.

“I am tired of this back and forth. Aren’t you? It’s been three—almost four fucking years. We need to grow up.”

“Oh, right, because I’m so immature and you’re just the perfect grown-up.”

“That’s not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. That’s all you ever do. You push and you push me away, but you don’t ever think about how I feel.”

“Then how do you feel, [Y/N]? Do you hate my guts? Do you wish I was never born? Do you hate seeing my face everyday?”

“No!” you yelled at her. “God, you always do this. I don’t hate you, Ellie! I never have! You know what I have hated? Not being able to be friends with you. Always having to argue with you. I miss the way it was when we were freshmen. We could get along then, and I want that back.”

“How could you not hate me? I’m a piece of shit, I’m an asshole, and all I ever do is argue with you.”

“Because I know deep down inside you don’t hate me,” you pleaded.

Ellie said nothing as she just stared at you. She didn’t deserve anything from you, not even your kindness, but she couldn't hold back anymore. She couldn’t carry the weight of the pressure anymore, and that’s when she finally snapped.

“I-I don’t,” Ellie finally sobbed out. “I just hate everything.” The tears flowed out her eyes, and before she could stop you, you pulled her in. You wrapped your arms around her strongly. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What am I gonna do with myself? I don’t want this anymore.” The words kept spilling out her mouth. “I don’t want to be an artist, and I don’t care to win this competition anymore. None of this is what I want.” You rubbed her back gently, and that’s when you finally felt her hug you back.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Everything will be okay.”

“I’ve been such an asshole to you. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” you said. “Right now, we’re talking about you.”

“Everyone said we were supposed to be rivals, and we let that get between us. I felt like I wasn’t worthy to be your rival, or to be praised by our professors. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for anything. I wanted to prove myself, and now that I’ve won I hate it.”

“You are enough, Ellie, and you’re worthy of everything. Everything you do is good enough, and you’re the only person I’ve ever considered my competition. No one else can compete with me but you.”

“Do you mean that?” You could hear her sniffling.

“I do.” You rubbed her back once more, toying with the loose strands of hair close to her neck. “I don’t know what I’m doing for this competition either.”

“That makes two of us,” she joked, and it was the first time in a long time you had heard her laugh.

“I haven’t heard you laugh in forever.” You tightened your arms around her. “I’ve missed it.” That only made Ellie sob more.

“I’ve missed being your friend,” Ellie choked out. “I hated being enemies.”

“Me too.” You two stayed like that for a while, just standing in each other’s arms, and that’s when you had an idea. “Who said we have to do a single submission?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” Ellie asked, pulling away to finally look at you. Ellie’s eyes may have been red from all her crying, but to you she was still as pretty as she had always been.

“Why don’t we partner up?” you asked. As soon as the words left your mouth, Ellie pulled you into an even tighter hug. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, you idiot.” And for the first time in a long time, you two laughed together.

You both started working on your project together immediately. You came up with different concepts together, drew rough sketches, looked for inspiration, everything. In fact, all the time you two were spending together was beginning to mend your relationship. You two spent a lot of time talking about what went wrong, why you were both so horrible to each other, and how sorry both of you were. It honestly helped you both to understand each other better, and other people began to notice. Whispers began spreading among other students about how Ellie Williams and [Y/N] [L/N] weren’t fighting anymore, and many of them were trying to figure out why. Two sworn enemies suddenly best friends? It just doesn’t happen without a cause. One night, while working extra late together, the two of you finally developed an idea for your work.

“We should do something based on the Greeks!” you said excitedly.

“Holy shit, you’re a genius!” Ellie shouted. She high-fived you before pulling you into a hug. She could smell your perfume, and for a moment she felt like she was weak in the knees, struggling to compose herself. The two of you pulled away and whipped out your sketchbooks, immediately generating ideas. Ellie looked over at you, at the way you scribbled passionately. She could see how excited and fired up you were, and this was the kind of fire she liked on you, not the angry kind. It was then that she realized she knew how she truly felt for you. She wanted you. The question was: would you ever want her? Was she even worthy? After how she had treated you for years? That revelation itself felt like it had been bestowed upon her by the gods, like she had been struck by Cupid’s bow. Love and hate: it was the progression of your relationship. Was there ever anything so similar but so different at the same time? The thought provided Ellie with the inspiration she needed.

“What if we create a goddess? One that has two natures? Like love and war, or creation and destruction?” she asked.

“I like it!” You flipped to a new page and began drawing up new ideas to share with Ellie. After more brainstorming you eventually came up with the idea for your created goddess. One half of her would be beautifully dressed in a gown, while the other half of her would be dressed for war. It would take at least three months to complete, but that was alright. It was a team effort, wasn’t it? For the first time in a long time Ellie felt excited to be participating in the competition, all thanks to you.

The months passed slowly at first, until they began to go by rapidly. Ellie loved everyday with you, and you looked forward to your late nights with her more and more. The day began to feel incomplete if you didn’t see her. That night you were the first to arrive at the art room you used to work on your project. Ellie arrived a little late, but that was because she came with coffee, and she managed to get you your favorite. You were touched that she remembered.

“What are we working on today?” you asked.

“We’re shaping with metal rods. So we gotta get her shape and all that done.”

“Okay, got it,” you said with determination. Ellie pulled out the large, wooden board she had left in the room this morning for your work tonight. She laid it flat on the floor and began working on connecting the rods for the feet to the board. She rolled her sleeves up as she got busy, making sure the feet were placed in the position you both wanted. For the side of the goddess that wore a gown, she could just place three rods, two of them slanted diagonally towards the middle one, in order to hold the shape of it. However, the other side would just require one straight rod and a smaller one on the board for her foot. Once Ellie was satisfied she stood up from her prone position on the floor and took a drink from her coffee.

“Alright, the base is set up, so we just gotta connect the hips and torso and all that.” You nodded and grabbed the other rods on the table and handed them to Ellie. You worked on connecting them together, dead set on getting her pose correct. Although you helped put the pieces together, Ellie refused to let you tighten them. She wanted to take care of it so you didn’t have to.

“You need any help?” you asked. She shook her head.

“No, I got it.”

“You sure?” You didn’t want her to do too much work.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, okay?” If this was the old Ellie you would’ve taken that sarcastically, but the softness of her voice let you know she was being sincere. You got closer to her and watched her work.

“So you think I’m pretty?” you teased. You watched her arms flex as she bent and shaped the rods then tightened them together. You could see the small beads of sweat sliding down her neck.

“You want me to be honest?” she asked.

“Yes. I want you to tell me exactly what you think.”

“I think you’re very pretty,” she finally said. “You’re so pretty it hurts. Sometimes I can’t breathe.” Her back straightened once she finished and she turned towards you. When she looked at you and saw how the light shone on you, she thought she saw an angel. She liked the way you looked at her, the way you watched her while she worked. It made her feel good, worthwhile. It just felt so natural and so right to have you here with her while she worked. Working together with you felt natural. She couldn’t stop herself as she reached over and kissed your cheek.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” she apologized once she realized what she’d done. There was a surprised expression on your face, but you still said nothing as you only stared at each other. She felt everything crashing down on her. Had she ruined everything after the two of you had just fixed things?

“I don’t mind,” you finally said. You grabbed her hand and laced your fingers with hers. “It’s alright with me.” Ellie couldn’t believe it. You were actually alright with her kissing you? You weren’t angry?

“Really?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

Ellie scanned your face, realizing how much she truly loved you and everything about you. She adored you. She worshipped you. All these years she had just been pushing away that love because everyone around her made her feel like she couldn’t love you, and that you could only ever be her nemesis. While memorizing every feature of your face, her eyes landed on your lips. She wanted you more than she’d ever wanted anything in her whole life.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked. She blurted the words out before she could even think twice, before she could even stop herself.

“As many times as you want,” you answered. Ellie grabbed your arms and pulled you into her as her lips landed on yours. She grabbed your chin as she kissed you until her lips were the only thing you could think of. Your hands immediately found their way to her hair as she kissed you intensely. Was this what the two of you had wanted all along? Ellie knew in her heart this was what she always wanted: to be with you, not against you, and that’s exactly how you felt. All you ever wanted was to be able to be close to Ellie the way you always knew possible. You wanted to salvage the relationship you could’ve had had you not been pitted up against each other, and now you had. When you two finally pulled away, you stared into each other’s eyes in awe. You wanted to kiss Ellie over and over again.

“I haven’t always treated you right, or like you deserve, and I’m sorry for that,” Ellie said. “I want to change that. I’ll spend my whole life repenting if I have to.”

“I think we both became horrible people to each other,” you added.

“Yeah, but more so me than you.”

“You were challenging at times,” was all you said. Ellie laughed and you could feel her hands rubbing your back. Her touch was more comforting than you ever imagined.

“That’s a polite way to put it.” Ellie was beautiful like this. Her eyes were bright, she had a carefree smile on her face, and her expression was just soft.

“You know what this feels like right now?” you asked. “When we were freshmen, we just met each other, everything was new, and we were friends. This is how that feels.”

“Oh,” Ellie said. “Am I being friend-zoned?”

“Oh, shit, wait, no,” you stumbled. “That wasn’t the best way to put it. What I mean is things feel the way they did when we first met and when things hadn’t changed yet.”

“Makes sense. Yeah, I don’t think you kiss your friends, [Y/N],” she joked.

“I know that.”

“You wanna get back to our project?” she asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

After hours of work you and Ellie finally finished your base at midnight. You both let out sighs of release once it was finished, glad your project was one step closer to completion—though far away from now. The months leading up to the competition passed without much hardship. Making the piece no longer felt like a burden, but something enjoyable now. As Ellie worked she found herself eyeing her tattoo more and more. She really loved every part of it, but also the way she appreciated it as well. If she loved getting tattoos so much, she began to wonder if she’d love doing them just as much. That night, while she lay in bed staring at her tattoo, she realized she may have found something to do with herself.

You were ecstatic when the day of the competition came. You would finally get to show off all your hard work with Ellie. The sculpture turned out more beautiful than you thought it would, and you learned more about using clay than you ever knew before. Ellie definitely taught you a lot and helped you improve. You and Ellie worked together on everything, but you also used your own personal skills to enhance certain aspects of it. You used your painting techniques to make the woman’s eyes stand out, to emphasize the harsh nature of her war clothes, the dimensions in her hair. Ellie’s impeccable sculpting technique was used to create a strong form that was incredibly symmetrical. The sculpture was striking to say the least. Her beautiful, white gown, her contrasting dark war attire, the regality of her expression, and the fact that everything about her commanded your respect, which you liked the most.

The competition’s judges were surprised to see that you and Ellie had teamed up for the piece, but they welcomed it. They seemed impressed with it and asked you both many questions about the story behind it and your creative process.

“Do you think we’ll win?” you asked Ellie.

“To be honest, I don’t really care if we win,” Ellie said simply. You were surprised by her answer. In the past she had cared about winning so much that it tore her apart, but she was different now. You both were.

“What changed?”

“It’s not important to me anymore. I don’t really care about the art world or what it has to say about me. It’s not the kind of art I want to make, anyways.”

“Well, do tell me what kind you want to make then,” you implored.

“I want to be a tattoo artist,” she announced. “I think it suits me better.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” you replied.

“You can be the professional artist in this relationship,” she said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I’ll brag about you, hang your paintings up in my studio, and talk about my artist girlfriend every five minutes.”

“You have quite the way with words.”

“How else will I seduce you?” she asked. She reached for your hand before clasping it into hers. “As long as I’m with you, everything is okay.”

Like Ellie predicted you didn’t win the art competition, but neither of you were too upset about this. Ellie felt like she couldn’t be mad, not when she had you. You were more important than any competition.

[skoulsons]

“Ellie?”

She had kept herself closed off most of the day, doing as much as skipping meals, not sketching, and declining their routine movie night.

Joel turned the knob, opening the door only slightly. “Ellie?”

“What?” She bit. She was around the corner, still in bed.

He bit his cheek. “Can I come in?”

She sniffled, a mumbled yeah from around the corner to let him know it was okay. He entered, keeping the door somewhat open behind him. He found her on her back, covers pulled up to her shoulders as she stared at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars.

The look on her face was a sure sign, as any, that things were not good.

He sat by her feet, the corner of the mattress sinking down as he sat, her feet following suit and lightly falling against his lower back.

“Do you need something?”

Joel inhaled and exhaled. He kept his hands awkwardly in his lap. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why? I’m fine,” she grumbled, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“You sure?”

She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t fine. Every possible thought about Joel, Tommy, Maria, Riley, Sam, or Henry that wasn’t positive made its way to the forefront of her brain, twisting everything she knew about them. Making her believe things that she was sure weren’t true. Convincing her of truths that were hard to shake.

Everything is still so new to them. Young and needing navigation and direction. Their relationship and being together now, no plan in sight of leaving or disregarding the other.

She has someone in her life now who cares about her. Who has cared about her for over a year. Someone who dedicates every single day to being present. Who always makes breakfast for the two of them. Someone who holds her when she cries and who lifts her up even higher when she’s happy. Who carries her to bed when she needs it and finds her new comics when he’s outside the walls. Who protects her at every moment and encourages her to eat and shower when she struggles.

Someone who loves her.

And that revelation is what makes these days even harder.

“Hey…” he nudged, turning his body slightly more towards her. “What’s goin’ on, baby?”

Ellie sighed, closing her eyes tightly, waves of colors forming in the black of her vision the harder she squeezed. She opened them, her eyesight wavering as tears pooled at her eyelids. The imaginary stars on the ceiling kept her gaze, still avoiding Joel’s concern.

“Today just… hasn’t been good.”

And while he knew it, hearing it from her still hurts to know. Whatever happened, it hurts to know she’s struggling.

“I think it’s been little worse than hasn’t been good.” It felt inappropriate to point out her near crying and the tight-lipped expression on her face in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay.

“I’m just… having fucked up thoughts,” she sighed, tracing all the constellations she knew into the white of the ceiling.

Joel didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to say.

Neither of them were the best at talking. Sharing something that pissed them off, frustrated them, or upset them and navigating that conversation in a healthy manner always felt like forcefully pulling teeth before they ever broke the surface of the gums.

Joel hopes his silence is an invitation for her to continue. He wants to help, to walk through what bothering her with her.

“I…,” she started, choking slightly on the syllable. “I feel like people don’t care. They don’t care, they don’t…love.”

Joel tilted his head to the side, eyeing her avoidant gaze.

Ellie brought her hand up and wiped it across her right temple. Her voice wavered, her lip quivering as she spoke, “me.”

Joel had an inclination, but hearing it still hurt all the same.

“I feel like people…” she paused, sniffled heavily. She lazily raised her arm off the bed in his direction, “you… don’t.”

Frustrated, Ellie sat up, her back making content with the headboard harder than she intended. She locked eyes with him momentarily before avoiding his gaze again, fixing hers around the room. Her dresser, a heap of clothes on the floor, her blinds, and the open door.

She stopped keeping her head upright and let the crown of her head fall back, banging against the headboard. She sighed, a wet, embarrassing laugh escaping her. “I… I know. I know you do. I do. But sometimes, I just… get convinced you don’t.”

She fiddles with her hands in her lap as her tears threaten to spill over, Ellie massaging her fingers and cracking her knuckles, even with nothing left to crack. She picks at her cuticles and nails uncomfortably, clearing her throat to get rid of the tight burning that has coated it.

“What convinces you?” Joel asked, his eyes looking twenty years younger—like he’s talking to someone else entirely. Like he’s held a similar conversation before.

His question stumps her.

And she realizes it’s nothing. Nothing has ever convinced her. Nothing could convince her that Joel doesn’t care about her. Nothing could ever truly convince her that Joel doesn’t love her.

He may get frustrated over something. He may be extra tired some days. He may spend a little more strength some days fighting his own demons that it’s hard to be there 100% for her.

But those things don’t mean he doesn’t love her. They don’t mean he wouldn’t lay down his life for her at any given moment. They don’t mean he doesn’t look at her with anything less than adoration, devotion, and appreciation for who she is. Who she is and what she has come to mean to him.

“Have I ever done anything-“

She cut him off. “No. No, no. Fuck no, never.” She threw the crown of her against the headboard again, a few tears spilling down the side of her face and flowing along her jawline. She hastily wiped them away, clearing her throat.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess I… don’t think I deserve it or something. So I look at you or Tommy or I… I remember Riley or Sam or anyone else and I… I think they don’t—didn’t care.”

She knows they do. Riley—she knows. Sam she knows. Henry, too. Tommy and Maria—she knows. Joel—he she knows better than any of the others.

“I remember them or I…” she brought her head down from her gaze on the ceiling and looked at him, clearly, for the first time. “I look at you and I wonder why.”

She cries. Her lips pressed together, not enough breath in her lungs to combat the tears falling down her face and slipping down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. She wipes and wipes and wipes until her tear-soaked hands can’t catch anymore and they flow freely. She dries her hands on her sheets and it’s still not enough to catch every single one.

Joel moves quickly, his right hand lightly on her shin as he reaches his left out towards her, keeping it held right above her lap for her to feel.

She can barely see, and yet she reaches out, knowing he’s there. Trusting he’s there.

She grabs his left hand with her right, holding it until her knuckles turn white and it hurts. Until it stings and her fingers go numb. Until her hand shakes and the blood flow is cut off from her fingertips.

He moves his right hand from her shin to press a fist into the mattress on the other side of her, scooting himself closer to her. He settles closer to her, bringing his right hand up her shoulder and eventually finding its home on her cheek. He strokes his thumb across it, more tears falling as she leans into it. She turns her head into it, her lips in his palm as he continues wiping her tears.

He pulls his hand back from her face and brings it to her other cheek, sliding his knuckles across to clear the streaks of tears. He returns his hand back to her other cheek, lightly scratching at the roots of her hair on the back of her neck.

Ellie grabs the collar of her shirt with her left hand, wiping the snot from her nose and using any drier part of her shirt to dry her neck and chin.

Joel lifts his left hand to bring up to her face, but a mumbled, snotty no keeps it in her lap, Ellie still clutching it.

She continues to sniffle, finally opening her eyes to see Joel looking back at her, a streak down the left side of his face, right by his ear.

“I’m sorry,” she says, quickly averting her gaze from his.

He smiles slightly, rubbing those all-comforting circles with his thumb over hand. He brings his hand up from her cheek as she closes her eyes, using two fingers to drag hairs down her forehead and tuck them behind her ear.

They didn’t need to be tucked away—but the affection always comforts her.

She takes his right hand in her left, bringing it down into her lap next to their other hands. She watches their hands intently as she rubs circles on his with her right hand and he rubs circles on hers with his right.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get her attention. It does, and she looks up at him. The tug on the corner of his lips reaches his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“No it’s… it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be crying over something I know isn’t true…”

“You know it’s not true?”

She inhales a shaky breath and exhales one just as heavy. She focuses on it, keeping any other tears down as best she can through controlled breathing.

“Yeah. Yeah I… I know.” She pauses for another breath. “But sometimes it’s… fucking difficult. I don’t…” she hesitates, shaking slightly, “I don’t want to look at you and wonder why.”

She chokes, wiping her cheek on the shoulder of her shirt. She feels her back against the headboard and adjusts slightly, rolling her shoulder blades over it.

She looks up at him. His eyes still hold that twenty-year-old look. They glisten because of the tears gathered in them, and the loving smile that hasn’t quite reached his lips has already hit his eyes.

“I’ll remind you. Every day, if I have to—if you want me to. Even if you don’t, I might jus’ have to-“

She laughs—giggles—at that. He laughs too, the kind of laugh that resides deep in his chest. The one that sounds better through his rare toothy smile. The laugh she only hears so often. The laugh when he thinks he’s done something right. The almost triumphant laugh when he seems to have cheered her up.

Ellie smiles, watching his own unwavering smile. “You can, if you think about it. I mean, I won’t expect it every day. If you forget some days, it’s fine. I’m not-”

“Ellie.”

“Sorry.”

Joel takes note of her. The dried tears along her cheeks. Her red and puffy eyes. The way her nose is red. The soaked collar of her shirt.

He doesn’t want to see her like this again. Not over thoughts like this.

“Will reminding you help? You know… keep thoughts like this away?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but it hits her that she doesn’t know. She’s never been positively reminded, certainly not daily, that someone cares for and loves her. No one’s been constant enough to tell her the truths she missed out on as a child. No one’s stuck around long enough for them to mean anything. No one has ever loved her enough to say them and mean them. Nothing other than doubt, hesitation, or reluctance has followed such reminders.

“I don’t know. I think, I… I hope. I don’t know, I’ve… never had someone who did something like that.”

He doesn’t frown at the thought, but his smile fades. Sadness, disbelief at the thought, the truth that she’d never had this before. “Well… we can try it out. You can tell me if you hate it ‘n we can try something’ else.” He smiled again as he rubbed more circles along her hands. “Sound fair?”

She smiles, tears welling at her eyes again. One spills over, Ellie fervently nodding in response to Joel’s question before too many more tears follow.

He lets go of her left hand and opens his arm up, welcoming her in. She scoots into him, tucking her body against him. She lets her legs freely fall into his as she leans against his body, his right arm coming across her back and holding her shoulder tightly. She keeps her face hidden away as best she can in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her right hand finds the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the fabric back and forth between her fingers.

Joel kisses her head, leaving his lips pressed into her hair briefly. “I just… I don’t want this to become something you know is true. Cause it ain’t.”

“It won’t. I… I know it’s not true.”

He kisses her head again, a muffled good reverberating through her. He rubs her upper arm a few times.

“Come here,” he says, letting go of her shoulder and standing up.

She smiles shyly, standing up and wasting no time to hold on to him, her arms wrapping around his middle and settling behind his back. She rests her ear right over his heart, the thump-thump drowning the world out. Drowning her thoughts. Her feet stand in between his, Ellie attempting to get as close to him as she can.

Joel, just like every time before and every time to come after, keeps a steady hand across her back and one behind her head, carefully threading his fingers through her hair. He tilts his head down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

He sways them gently, covering her back in hand-drawn lines, circles, and a myriad of other shapes. “This is your first reminder.”

She giggles at that.

Something bubbles in her chest. A fire. Butterflies—as cheesy as she thinks that is—it fits. It tickles, in a way. It reaches her finger tips and warms her skin. It helps her breathe easier and keeps her heartbeat beat in rhythm with his. It slows her thoughts and relaxes her shoulder. It lets her relax completely against his embrace.

The reminder is there. The reminder of his care and protection, no matter what. The reminder of the steadfast, uncompromising, sacrificial love that he has for her.

[duffys-girl]

It’s so easy easy

Warnings uhhh, this is probably so fuckin bad its been in my drafts for months

Not reread for mistakes and smut lol

You looked around, trying to find your sketch book as you grew more and more annoyed

“You okay?” You turned around, axl leaned down to be face to face with you

“I can’t find my sketch book and I’m bored and cuz the bus broke down in the middle of no where I’m losing my mind!”

You whined “oh? I’m pretty sure Duff took it”

You looked at him puzzled, before a wave of panic washed over you, you drew Duff, a lot, some where reasons he would ask, or you would ask, but there was other drawings of him, you stood up quickly and ran into the bunks only to hear mumbling, but before you pulled back the curtain there was a clapping sound

Then a groan

Oh god was he- no he couldn’t be everyone was only a few feet away

You peeked in as there he was, dick in hand jerking himself off

You sqeuaked and quickly ran off telling axl

A few minutes later he wondered out of the bunks, he looked like a mess you felt a twinge between your legs, only getting worse when you two made eye contact, did he know?

You continued to talk to slash, til Duff dropped himself on the couch next to you making convo with slash, leaving you there, just alone

After a bit you got frustrated, storming off to another couch, everyone looked at you confused you just laid down on a couch and tried to sleep you shivered a bit but forced your eyes closed, keeping them closed when something warm and heavy was draped over you, warming you instantly, you managed to fall asleep to all the snickering, after a while you woke back up, the bus was back on the road, you looked at what was pushing down on you, a jacket, a leather jacket,, duffs jacket, you flushed and tried to act like you where still sleeping

“I know you’re up” you looked up, the sharp green eyes looking down at you

“I-“

“I know you saw me earlier..”

“…”

He pulled you up and took you to the bunks, and he pushed you onto one

“Duff..?”

“Shh..shh..just tell me stop if you need to me stop..”

“Please don’t..”

He chuckled, pulling your shirt up, kissing your stomach, nipping every so often, making you gasp you reached up for him, tugging on his hair, he let out a small groan and ground his hips into you, hands pulling at loose fabric, until you two where nude, you felt embarrassed, everyone was so close

“Shh..” You looked up at him as he slowly pushed in, his hips rocking back and fourth slowly, filling you up and making you squirm, you gasped softly and covered your mouth

“Good girl..” he groaned, low in your ear and you squirmed

“Fuck..you like that baby?” You nodded, his movements moving faster “words baby”

“Y-yeah I do..fuck..” you mumbled, good enough for him and he left sloppy kisses on your neck, nipping at your collar bone

“Duffy im..im so close” he nodded, closing his eyes and speeding up ever so slightly

You let out tiny moans as you got closer, you came around him, mumbling his name as his speed spilled into you “fuck.. “ he stayed burried in you for a bit, thrusting into you before slowly pulling out, he helped you dress before collapsing ontop of you “fuck..fuck I love you baby” you blushed, you never thought he would think that, you smiled and played with his hair “I love you too” you smiled even wider as he moved around and pulled you closer, his face nuzzled into your neck

“I love you”

[adultswim2021]

Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job #19: “Pepperoni” | January 21, 2008 - 12:15AM | S02E09

Another great episode. This one is jam-packed, and has a substantial amount of deleted or alternate sketches associated with it. That’s good for me, because I hate when these write-ups are just me pointing out funny things. What am I, Jay Leno’s famous Headlines segment from The Tonight Show Starring Jay Leno on NBC? Did you know that one of the worst things I ever saw on television was him pointing out intentional humor in a Papa Johns print ad? At least I think it was Papa Johns. Hey, remember when Tim and Eric did that Papa Johns thing in that thing? Nice. I’m back on track. Thanks for sticking with me.

Do you wonder why this episode is called “Pepperoni”? Well, wonder no more. This one starts off with a very brief cold open that reprises Tom Goes to the Mayor in live-action! In it, the Mayor gets increasingly frustrated with Roy Teppert for turning on his discman every time the Mayor uses his pointing stick to turn it off. The punchline is we cut to Tom Peters at the door, looking awkward.

What does that have to do with “Pepperoni?” Why did I do a paragraph break before giving support for my thesis statement? Well, I’ll tell you: there was originally MUCH more to this sketch. Seemingly this was meant to be the wraparound for the episode. There are two more deleted scenes from this sketch where Tom is clutching a pepperoni stick, and they get into a gentleman’s wager over weather or not that pepperoni would go well with a Cheese Pizza. I’m not entirely sure why these got the axe. They are pretty funny and I think they should’ve banked them for another episode. I guess it’s good that these guys generally like looking forward with their material, but I would’ve been all for them returning to the Tomiverse for more live-action mayubernatorial fun. 

The runner of this episode revolves around Bread Harrity, famous for being my friend C-Dog’s Geocities username. Bread is a Mediterranean man who loves entertaining children with songs about Spaghetti and Meatballs. This series of sketches is actually focused on the Breadheads, two trashy trailer park women who adore and desperately want to become Bread’s sexual partners. They openly talk about how much they hate their children and their current stations in life. It’s weird how disgusting some of the lines are in this sketch, only to have the relatively innocuous “bush” be bleeped out. I’ve always taken issue with that! This ends with the girls finally meeting their idol, and coming off too desperate and creepy when they sing a song about becoming his love slaves. He backs off, because he simply wants to “do it in the dark” (for some reason this line has reverberated in my head for the past decade and a half). 

There’s also another Kids Break that, like most of them, fails to recapture the magic of the first one. But that’s okay. They put a fun twist on this by calling it a “teen edition” and Tim & Eric have aged their characters up slightly. They are cool bad boys in this one. Originally this was conceived in a similar vein to the previous Kids Break sketches, and the deleted “preppy” version can be found on the DVD in the special features.

Hobby Holes features Fred Armisen as K.J. Nutt, a man with a British accent who just loves holes in the dirt and wants to teach you all about them. This sketch is fine, but it does feature one of the more sublime moments: K.J. Nutt is reciting the contents of a letter telling him he can’t make a hole in a piece of paper, but for some reason the graphics on screen show a complete letter with an opening salutation and closing valediction while the body only reads one single line: “You silly man.” without the rest of the text. I don’t know if I did any kind of job relaying this joke, but it’s one of my favorite bits in the entire series.

This sketch is reprised with embarrassing behind-the-scenes footage of the host freaking out, which is becoming formulaic at this point (Pussy Doodles, Crystal Shyps, probably others that I’m forgetting, all did this same thing). I might not have noticed this trend if it weren’t for the fact that this instance of it doesn’t do too much to add to the sketch. Nothing tops “You silly man.” for me. 

Hey, we got Brules Rules. In this one he instructs everyone to just eat ants that get on your picnic food, because they are made out of protein. I genuinely remember being taught this during cub scout camp, and a teenage counselor actually ate an ant in front of us. I remember thinking, “I’ll be damned. I guess you can eat those things.” I still never have, at least not on purpose. 

Video Match: Rainn Wilson is back! YIKES! This isn’t particularly inspired; he’s basically just saying Dwight style stuff about being a gamer. BORE-ING. 

There’s “Writin’ a jingle for Tom Skerrit.” which sorta exists in the canon of “Tim & Eric dicking around at the Abso Lutely offices”. This one actually has a ghastly surprise; after work-shopping their ideas for a Tom Skerrit jingle (for what purpose exactly is never explained), we pan over to see a tired-looking Tom Skerrit, who walks out on the meeting, unimpressed with Tim or Eric. Tim scolds him for wasting their time, and Tom offers back “you didn’t do a good job”. Great Job.

This one notably ends with The Shins playing over the credits, doing a cover of the “Never gonna Wipe My Butt” song. I remember thinking maybe this song originated on stage or something, or that I’d heard of it before this episode. Turns out I may have: The Shins performed it in late 2007 and a video of the performance made its way onto Youtube around then. It’s possible Tim & Eric debuted the song during a live show, but I must be thinking of this. They probably started performing it after recording their version for Tim & Eric in this episode. 

There’s one more deleted sketch; at least I’m choosing to attribute it to this episode because Tim & Eric are dressed in their same wardrobe as they were in the Tom Skerrit sketch. It’s given some title like “BEHIND THE SCENES” and in it, Tim & Eric present an actual lost sketch to the audience: the deleted Gibbons and Friendy cartoon. We see this briefly in season one’s “Friends”, shown on a television screen for a few seconds. So, the reason they didn’t include it on the season one DVD was because they filmed a new intro for it for season two and deleted it again.

Shout out to this great Youtube channel which has playlsits of Tim & Eric DVD extras. I’m a lover of physical media because of great extras like this, but I’m also pro people uploading DVD extras to YouTube so everyone can enjoy them. Go find the other deleted scenes I mentioned there!

[bitterballofsunshine]

any j2 fics coming any time soon bestie? im so deprived of it and i LOVE your writing💕

Omg! Thank you so much! 💖 You have no idea how much of a boost it is to hear a compliment about my writing! Now, about the fics, I'm actually working on a Cookerson fic inspired by this post. (Of course, it contains J2 cause a Cookerson fic is better with their son falling in love with a certain blond as well.) But that probably won't be out soon cause it's unnecessarily long. It has 16 chapters including an epilogue. I'm still writing chapter 4 and have already hit 26K words in total. In summary, that's going to take some time. Plus, after that, I have this sketch for a Criminal AU with the whole team. (But that's still a sketch) I hope to squeeze some one-shots in every now and then but not many right now.

HOWEVER...I understand how tough it is to survive without fanfictions so here's what I managed to scrap together for you!

Colour Combination [J-Square fic + Cookerson + Ben/Eoin]

Summary: In which Ben and Jos live together and Joe loves pies and painting. A/N: Not beta read. This doesn't follow a specific timeline/series. I wrote a getting-together-fic cause those are my favourites. A heads-up of what's to come down below.

A big two-bedroom apartment is admittedly starting to prove too small for two grown men. Of course, it would’ve been enough for two grown men but the issue here is, it's two grown men who refuse to actually grow up.

It’s day thirty two since Ben moved in with Jos cause most of their training sessions are easily accessible from Jos’ apartment in London. They are used to sharing hotel rooms or suites on tour when they get their food presented to them and the cleaning and laundry are taken care of by the hotel staff. But they are in no way prepared to share a permanent living space where they have to cook food and take turns doing chores.

“Benjamin!” A shrill cry cuts through the otherwise silent air. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’re supposed to buy the orange juice without juicy bits!”

“I don’t see what difference it makes Jos,” the alleged ginger replies indignantly. “It’s the same goddamn fruit!”

“But with the pulps, it doesn’t taste smooth!” the wicketkeeper says back, putting the juice box in the refrigerator anyway.

“You can’t taste a texture Jos,” Ben points out, rather validly in Jos’ opinion but let’s not tell Ben that, okay? He sighs and climbs up onto the kitchen island, letting his feet dangle as Ben continues to clear out the groceries he brought in a few minutes ago.

Jos knows that he’s being unreasonably picky because pulp isn’t the biggest crime in the world (in fact, it’s not even a crime) but Jos is so frustrated right now and he doesn’t know why.

The blonde sighs heavily, “Look, I’m sorry, the pulp’s fine.” He looks down at his mismatched SpongeBob and Tom & Jerry socks. (A payback gift from Jimmy for making him wear a bunny costume one Halloween. At first, Jos rolled his eyes and swore that he’d never wear the set of ten pairs of socks that came as ten different cartoons but Jimmy isn’t here…and they’re super comfy.)

“It just feels like something is off,” Jos tries to explain as his housemate continues on his merry way, stuffing bacon into the freezer. He lays down on the kitchen island dramatically. “It feels like I’m frustrated but there’s no reason for me to be frustrated cause everything’s fine, my life’s great at the moment. So, being frustrated without a reason is making me more frustrated. You get what I’m saying?” he turns to look at the other who’s finished with the groceries and is staring at him, unimpressed.

“No, Jos, I do not get a single word of what you’re saying,” Ben says, throwing away the grocery bags and making his way to make dinner for them. He learned quickly that Jos survives solely on take aways cause simply and frankly, the man can’t cook. “But I think I know why you’re frustrated.”

This makes Jos sit up straight and look at his friend and the sight reminds Ben of a pet goldfish he had when he was a kid.

“What? What is it?” he asks desperately, wanting answers.

Ben doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, both hands at his hip and that ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ expression, as if Jos should know what he’s trying to say. It takes the older a few seconds to catch on but eventually, the bulb lights up in his head.

He scowls and turns away, “It’s not that.” His voice is petty like a child who’s been denied ice cream…or himself when he was denied ice cream by a certain Eoin Morgan two weeks ago although Jos is still certain tHaT hE dIdN’t hAvE a CoLd!!!!

“It is that Jos, it’s him,” Ben deadpans, not waiting for a reply as he turns the stove on.

“But why now? I wasn’t this frustrated yesterday!” Jos argues. He thinks, no he knows, that it’s not that!

“Because it was only this morning we agreed to come by for tea tomorrow.” Ben still doesn’t turn around, instead peeling a potato. He’s not sure when his friend will understand his deeply rooted feelings for Joe. But he’s not going give it a rest until Jos does.

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean that I’m attracted to Joe,” Jos counters, his own mind screaming at him to drop the act and start writing a sickeningly sweet poem for the other Joseph. “Besides, even if I was, who’s to say that he likes me back?”

“Ah ha!” Ben exclaims in triumph, pouring seasoning over the potatoes and putting them in the over. “So, you admit that there’s a chance that you have feelings for him.”

“Maybe…no…I mean…I don’t know,” Jos finally concludes, burying his head in his hands. “Let’s just talk about something else. This is frustrating my frustration that was caused due to the frustration.”

Ben just laughs at the messy sentence as a small smile blooms on the blonde’s lips as well.

“Fine, fine,” Ben relents, thinking that it’s best not to push Jos, “what do you want to watch tonight?”

A change of topic is welcomed by Jos and he says, “Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“Are we going to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine every day?” Ben asks but he has a smile on his face which means that he actually enjoys it.

Jos gives a simple nod. After a few seconds, he lifts his head from his hands and decides to stop moping. He’s a lost cause in romance but at least Ben is here.

“Thanks by the way,” Jos says quietly, nudging Ben’s shin with his foot. “Don’t know what I’d do without your company. I mean, I did survive so far but it’s better when you’re around.”

Ben turns around at this at last and gives him a supporting smile, “Sure thing, Jos. I’m glad you’re around too.”

A sweet silence stretches in the kitchen and the only sound is the sizzling of the pan Ben is holding. Then Jos decides to open his mouth.

“Still think pulps are shit though.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Joe’s blonde eyebrows knit into a frown as his tongue sticks out adorably in concentration. His eyes are squinting and his nose wrinkled. His hand almost trembles as he adds details to the painting on the canvas in front of him.

He’s concentrating so much that the colour around the particular part he’s painting begins to smudge in his vision. The little blue thing on the white background is probably the hardest thing in this picture cause it has such tiny details. Why so many details? Joe wanders. But that’s not what he paid most attention too though. That would be the-

“Joey! Where are you?” the sound of Ali’s voice drifting up the staircase into his painting room breaks Joe out of his trance-like concentration.

Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Joe thinks as he puts the paintbrush down and looks around himself. To his right, he only has some colourful canvases and rolled-up art paper. To his left, canvases he hasn’t used yet. He’s panicking and has no idea what do to as he hears footsteps coming up the staircase. Of course, he knows where I might be, Joe thinks. Ali knows him like that.

Then finally, finally, he sees it. A canvas with a half-painted picture of a magpie. The batsman almost knocks down the glass of coloured water in his haste to slide the painting he has been working on under the table where it’s not visible and then put the magpie painting in front of him.

Right as he sits back down, the door opens to reveal Ali standing there with a wide smile.

Alastair looks around the room which he’s just walked into which has unsurprisingly not changed a bit over the last decade or so. The only change is that there are more amazing paintings pushed up against the walls.

Ali looks to the table and sees Joe grinning at him. His fingers are covered in all sorts of colours and there’s also a small smudge of paint on the tip of his nose. Ali’s guessing that Joe subconsciously scratched it and therefore got paint on it.

“What’s up Ali?” Jos asks as he pushes his chair away from the table and leans back.

“Nothing much,” Ali says, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, “I was free all afternoon so I brought you some blueberry pies.” Ali knows how much Joe loves blueberry pies and…any type of pie.

“Oh, thank you!” Joe squeals. He loves his pies, he truly does. And his pseud dad brings him one every week so he’s grown to love them more. Now, he can’t even last ten days without one. (He was never this spoiled. His current state is completely Jimmy and Ali’s fault since they bring him pies and cakes and brownies and…the list is very long, we’ll leave it at that.)

“You’re welcome,” Ali says, moving towards the table. “What are you working on?”

Joe blushes slightly and subconsciously fidgets with the hem of his shirt, “Oh…um…a magpie. It’s not yet done, I’m just procrastinating.” Joe lies and hopes that Ali doesn’t see through him although the chances of that happening are very slim.

“Oh, you now what,” Ali says with a grin and Joe sighs in relief, “Jimmy’s having trouble with this magpie in our back garden.”

“The one he’s worshiping, right?” Joe asks. He listens to Tailenders too.

“Yeah,” Ali says, a rare mischievousness taking over his eyes. “Maybe, once you’re finished, you could give this to him.”

“Oh, that would piss him off so bad! I love it!” Joe says. He loves this, loves them. Just talking together in his painting room, Ali providing ways for Joe to torment Ali’s husband and Joe agreeing wholeheartedly cause let’s face it, he’s a little shit.

Eventually, Joe invites Ali to have a cup of tea and they settle down in the dining room.

Ali looks on as Joe moves about the adjacent kitchen in his normal flair. He’ll gladly admit that he’s not up to date with which celebrity is sleeping with which or who wore the most expensive suit at a premiere. But he’s not dumb. Or blind. He’s already taken notice of the painting Joe has been working on for what he counts as five weeks now.

Alastair has never seen Joe work so hard or take so much time on a painting. And he has a fair guess what the painting is about but Joe doesn’t want anyone to find out and Ali hasn’t told anyone about his observation. (Well, he told Jimmy but that’s okay cause he tells Jimmy everything…except for maybe when Mark and/or Joe are planning a prank on him.)

His husband’s exact reply to that was, “That’s so cheesy.” But Ali knows that the grumpy old git was trying not to melt into a puddle right then and there.

Ali isn’t sure why Joe doesn’t want anyone to find out but whatever the reason, Ali respects the younger’s privacy. He just hopes that Joe gives it to him at some point.

His thoughts are interrupted when two cups of hot tea are places in front of him.

“So, what’s the news from the farm?” Joe asks, taking a sip.

“Well, Joe IV turned three months old last week,” Ali says, remembering how Jimmy poked him awake at 5am in the morning to tell him about the lamb’s birthday. “And Jimmy is contemplating a new haircut.”

Joe winces, “Can’t get any worse than what he did in 2018, can it?” He still takes the shit out of Jimmy for the bleached-blonde hairstyle.

“Well, we've had worse,” Ali shrugs, “he was bald a long time back. Before you were in the side.”

Joe nearly chokes on his tea. “I haven’t seen that. Oh, we have got ourselves some new blackmail material!” He emphasises this by smiling wickedly.

Ali laughs. “So, how are things with you?”

“The same,” Joe says, eyes suspiciously downcast. “I finished that book you gave me. It was nice…and a bit spooky.” He chuckles. “Oh, and Ben and Jos are coming for tea tomorrow. Haven’t seen either of them in a while.”

Ali nods with wide eyes and waits, hoping Joe would add more but when he doesn’t, he simply says, “Well, I’m glad. Hope you have fun.”

“Yup, I can’t wait to see them,” Joe says with a big smile.

Ali just forms a half-smile, “I know Joe. I know.”

The sound of the alarm blaring jerks Joe awake. He turns around to see what time it is and realises that he’s slept through seven of his ten alarms and now, the time was already half-past one. That’s okay though, cause he went to sleep at four in the morning; a result of staying up all night to finish that painting.

He groans as he only has like two hours left until Jos and Ben arrive and he needs to brush his teeth, get a shower to scrub the paint of his hands (and face, which is a new revelation he got when he accidentally caught a sight of his face in the refrigerator last night) and get dressed. He also needs to tidy the house because Ali has seen worse, being married to a fast-bowler, but Jos probably hasn’t.

He hauls himself up and quickly gets through the showering and getting dressed part and is sorting through his kitchen and grabbing the pie Ali brought him when he realises it; he’s out of tea, he and Ali had the last of it yesterday. Oh, come on! Joe thinks exasperatedly.

He looks at the clock and sees that there’s no time left to run to the store. So, he does the only thing possible; he phones Jos.

“Joseph, could you please get off your lazy arse and get the phone?” Ben shouts from his bedroom when the fifth ring sounds but no one answers.

“I’m can’t, I’m busy,” Jos calls back as he flattens the non-existing wrinkles on his shirt in the mirror.

“Well, I can’t either cause I just got out of the shower and I’m naked,” Ben retorts back, hoping that their neighbours didn’t hear that. Okay, he’s wearing a towel around his waist but come on.

Jos sighs and mutters something about ‘idiotic BFFs’ before walking down the staircase and answering the pestering phone.

Any annoyance he may’ve had passes away as he hears Joe’s voice filter through, “Hey Jos, have you two left yet?”

“No Joey, not yet. Why?” he’s fidgeting with the curled telephone wire as he asks.

“Oh, okay then, bring some tea.” And with that, the line goes dead.

Jos looks at the receiver of the phone for a few minutes, not sure whether the Joe cut the line or some unseen demon got in the middle of their conversation.

“You okay there, golden retriever?” Ben asks, coming down the stairs and purposefully using the nickname Jos pretends to hate but actually.

“Yeah…we need tea!” Jos nearly yells this as he slams the receiver down and rushes off into the kitchen.

“Wha…what?” Ben asks, confused, but follows Jos anyway.

“We need tea,” Jos repeats as if that explain everything. “Joe needs tea, he probably ran out. Where’s our tea?” He spins around at the taller man.

“It’s in that cabinet,” Ben points and is amused at how much he knows about the apartment even though he’s just moved in.

Jos wrenches open the wooden panels and grabs the closets box of tea.

When he starts to closely examine it with a frown, Ben says, “It couldn’t have expired, you just bought those last month.”

“No, they’re too cheap,” Jos says indignantly, throwing the box back into the cabinet as if it’s the box’s fault.

“You bought them Jos,” Ben tries to reason with his friend who is wide-eyed and frantic, facing a tea crisis…

“Yeah, because they’re cheap,” Jos says, already grabbing his car keys and moving to the door. “I can’t give them to Joe. We’re stopping at Waitrose on the way.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ben asks but the door has already closed behind Jos.

He sighs and before leaving the apartment as well, he fires a quick message to Eoin. I’m going to be blowing up your phone with my complaints tonight and I apologise in advance. He pockets his phone and follows Jos.

“I love that shirt,” Joe says as he idly runs his finger along the rim of his teacup. He looks over at the shirt Jos is wearing. It’s mostly normal and plain and he’s obviously seen Jimmy wear better ones but oh boy, the way those biceps made the fabric stretch! Joe could stare at it for days!

“Thanks Joe,” Jos replies, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I love the new décor by the front door."

Ben zooms out from the rest of the conversation and mutters into his teacup for some God or Goddess to show up and rid him of his misery. These two are hopeless, Ben thinks.

“Paint anything new lately?” Jos asks, knowing about Joe’s passion for painting and drawing.

“Um…yeah…yeah, I mean, of course,” Joe says with flushed cheeks and a slightly ‘caught-off-guard’ look. “I’m still working on a magpie, thinking of giving it to Jimmy to piss him off.”

“I heard he’s going for a new hairstyle,” Jos says, remembering when Ali said it with faux horror in his eyes and earned a punch to the arm from Jimmy.

“Oh, don’t even ask,” Joe mutters. “Your hair looks amazing though.” He doesn’t mean to say it out loud but it happens.

The already present tint on Jos’ cheeks brightens. “Oh, thank you, I didn’t have much time to style it.”

Ben rolls his eyes as he remembers Jos not even allowing him to breathe around his hair, stating that he doesn’t want it messed up.

When the redhead tunes back into the conversation, he hears that it’s turned towards their favourite cakes.

“I still think nothing can beat a classic chocolate cake,” Jos says as he brings the teacup up to his lips.

“Uh, excuse me?” Joe asks incredulously. “Have you never tried chiffon cake?”

“It tastes too much like an oil cake for my liking,” Jos says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, ready to have a petty argument about cakes.

“It’s perfect, and don’t you say anything else,” Joe retorts back menacingly but the baby blue eyes and puppy-like stare doesn’t help. It helps makes Jos’ heartbeat speed up though. “What’s so special about chocolate cakes anyway? They’re so out of date right now.” A lie; Joe would kill for a chocolate cake anywhere, anytime but he’s trying to argue over here and arguments don’t need honesty.

“The chocolate cake is perfect because it’s cake plus chocolate,” Jos says slowly, emphasising each word. “Everyone loves cake. That’s why it was invented: to be loved and adored and cherished.” Kind of like you, his brain wants to say it but he doesn’t. “Chocolate is the pinnacle of happiness. It’s the epitome of joy and its main purpose is to bring happiness. Combine these two, and you have a miracle.”

Joe stares at him, unimpressed, “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“You started it!” Jos shoots back but not without a childish smile on his face.

Instead of replying, Joe simply dips his index finger in his tea and flicks the liquid on the tip of Jos’ nose. Jos giggles at this, his face scrunching up adorably in Joe’s opinion.

Ben just looks away. Kill me. Kill me now.

“Okay, so I have romance, comedy and horror,” Joe says, looking up from his film collection at the two men sat on his couch, arguing over which piece of the blueberry pie is the biggest. “Which one?”

“I say horror,” Ben says without even looking up as he assesses the condition of the pie; the circumference, the angles in which it’s been cut, how many blueberries are contained as average per slice. Finally he ends up picking the piece closest to him.

Joe looks at Jos who just shrugs. Jos isn’t sure about his taste in movies and he doesn’t want to let Joe down by choosing a boring one, although the other will never say anything negative no matter how boring it is and will continue to assure Jos that he loves it.

In the end, they settle for a movie from the Insidious series. Joe sits down between Jos and Ben although he’s basically snuggling into Jos’ side. Ben turns the lights off, reasoning that it’ll add to the effect since the sun was almost gone. But he has other expectations such as two certain blonds ‘accidentally’ kissing in the dark but no one needs to find that out.

The movie goes on and at every scary scene, Joe snuggles a little closer to Jos who simply accepts the other and tightens his arms around him. At one particular moment, Joe yelps slightly when the girl in the movie sees the ghost in the mirror, standing behind her.

Jos lightly rubs his hand along Joe’s back and arm, calming the younger and muttering ‘It’s okay’ or ‘It’s just a movie’ or ‘The protagonist never dies’ or (Ben’s personal favourite) ‘I won’t let any ghost hurt you’.

The thing is, it calmed Joe. He’s never been a huge fan of horror movies. The previous one he watched ended up with him turning a night’s stay at Ali’s into a whole week cause he was too afraid to be alone. Ali had tried to calm him during the movie by hugging him and it worked more than Joe could ever hope for but Jos made it work better. (Possibly because even after Ali comforted him, Jimmy took it upon himself to scare Joe at every possible moment. Which he eventually stopped when Ali threatened, “Stop scaring him or no strawberries for a month!” Oddly enough, that did the trick.)

When the movie is almost at a climax and Joe gets a proper scare, Jos pulls him so close that Joe slides onto his lap, head resting against Jos’ shoulder, Jos’ arms around him tightly. It’s at this point when Ben gets up and says that he has to make an important call.

Joe wants to ask what’s so important because the climax is almost here but he doesn’t as Ben’s back fades away into the dark hallway.

Ben makes himself comfortable in the snug as he brings up the chat with Eoin. I am telling you babe, they are insane. Joe is literally on Jos’ lap right now but even that doesn’t seem to trigger anything. Hell, the two of us only started holding hands after two weeks of dating!

He makes sure to make the petulance known in the texts so that he gets some sympathy (and some much needed advice). The reply comes quite quickly, telling him that Eoin was waiting for his ‘complaints’. Just give them time. They’ll come to it. It’s just harder to do things for some people when you’ll be risking a lot in the process. Or in the Josephs’ case, they’re risking years of friendship in their minds cause they’re worried if the other doesn’t like them back. You sound so wise, Ben thinks to himself with a fond smile. When he says as much, he gets a feisty reply. I sound wise?! Benjamin, I am wise. Ben smiles in the dark, only the phone screen illuminating the room. Yeah, sure, that too I guess. He can imagine Eoin rolling his eyes at him and muttering something about ‘idiotic boyfriends’. Whatever. Just go and get the Josephs together. I can’t handle this stress anymore!

Down the hallway, back in the living room, it’s all dark as the end credits roll over a black screen.

“Want me to turn on the lights?” Jos asks, not really seeing Joe’s face but knowing that some light would be welcome.

“Okay,” Joe yawns out into Jos’ shoulder and oh my God, that sounded so cute! How is this man so adorable even when he’s sleepy and slightly scared? I mean, how is it–okay Joseph, that’s enough thinking.

He gently removes Joe from his lap and places him on the couch. Jos turns the light on and is back beside Joe, cuddling him, faster than light itself.

Jos is absolutely in love with this moment; the low lights, the pie-stuffed tummies, Joey sleepy and cuddly in his arms. If he can live in this moment forever, he will.

Jos is about to assume that Joe has gone to sleep when Joe suddenly gets up and says, “Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to give you something.” He doesn’t supply much detail as he races up the stairs. Jos can hear him hurrying around but whether that’s because he’s in a rush to give Jos the something or because he’s scared to be upstairs alone, Jos isn’t sure. His best bet is that it’s a mix of both.

When Joe comes back in, he’s holding something flat, rectangular and large; a canvas. Jos can’t see what’s on it since Joe has it turned the other way.

“Okay, so this might be a bit messy,” Joe clarifies although Jos just wants to rush over and tell him about how much of a great artist he is and that nothing he ever paints could be anything but perfect, “but I painted something for you. I just finished it this morning.”

He extends it shyly to Jos and oh hell, Ben was right all along, Jos is deeply, utterly and totally in love. The messy blonde hair, the baby blue eyes that look like a clear day sky, the faint blush on his smooth cheeks and that illegally adorable smile.

Jos accepts it with a shaky hand. He turns it over and stares, stunned. He feels rooted to his spot. His hands grip tighter at the edges of the canvas as his jaw hangs open in amazement. Because staring back at him…is himself. Joe painted him, Joe painted Jos…for Jos. It’s a picture of him in his test whites, wicketkeeping gloves on and ball bouncing between his hands, a wide smile on his face. It's not inspired by the paparazzo because Jos has never seen this before; Joe imagined it by himself. The blond feels like crying. (Which blond? Take a guess. It works both ways.)

But he doesn’t realise that he’s been silent for a bit too long and Joe’s overactive imagination has already kicked in.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Joe says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I mean, I thought it looked good but, I can redo it. Maybe change the colour combination and-”

He doesn’t get to say anything else because suddenly, he can’t. He can’t say anything or do anything or even think anything. Because there’s something on his lips. No, not something, there’s a pair of lips on his lips. It’s Jos Buttler’s lips. Jos is kissing him!

The realisation makes a bucket of fireworks go up inside Joe’s head. It takes him a second or two but finally, he starts to feel like himself again. Jos’ lips are warm and soft, his hands gently snaking around Joe’s waist, pulling his closer. Joe lifts his arms and rests them on Jos’ shoulders.

They only break apart for breath and even then they rest their foreheads together. Joe’s breathing deeply and can barely hold his excitement together but all he can think is ‘Jos just kissed me!’.

Jos lets out a small huff of laugh, “Fuck the colour combination. The painting’s perfect and as are you.”

Joe feels like he’s in heaven.

When Ben casually saunters into the living room, he stops dead in his tracks. He nearly screams with excitement but stops himself. Because there they are, cuddled up on the sofa, Jos lying down on his back, Joe lying on top of him, his head tucked between Jos’ shoulder and neck and the wicketkeeper’s arms protectively around the smaller boy. On the table Ben sees it, a painting. He quickly connects the dots between their positions, the painting and their slightly swollen lips.

He snaps a picture and sends it to Eoin and forwards it to Ali and Jimmy, captioning it Golden retriever and Milky Bar Kid are together. I REPEAT! Golden retriever and Milky Bar Kid are together!!!

Once he makes sure that he’s sent it, Ben turns around to the kitchen. Right then, he thinks, where’s the rest of that pie?

[corvidamy]

willie is DIFFICULT TO DRAW

i was working on some willex stuff but could not draw willie for the life of me so i decided to sketch him a bit first

i mean i’m being a perfectionist with it and trying to get him to look as similar as possible to booboo when i forget i actually have my own style and don’t need to do that

anyways i’m struggling

[primofate]

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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[goldengoddess]

kaz brekker calling you angel

request: heyy. i really need to read something where kaz calls reader "angel". just that. the rest is up to you x

a/n: YES YES YES,,,, this is short but yeah omg i love kaz and this nickname 

warning: injury, hospital, recovery, cursing 

the world was spinning. and everything hurt. or maybe nothing hurt. you weren’t sure if you could feel nothing or feel every part of your body burning in pain. 

you opened your eyes and immediately closed them because the light was too bright. everything around you was white and clinical, the world smelled of cheap hand sanitiser with a touch of ketterdam air. 

you opened your eyes, slowly, to give yourself time to adjust to the bright light. you turned your neck to the side, every muscle in your body screaming in protest. you observed one side of the room, taking in what looked like one of the cheap hospitals in the city.

you were covered in bandages, but still wearing the clothes from your last job, now covered in what you assumed was your own blood.

the job. 

oh fuck, the job. 

you tried to sit up, wincing in pain as you felt the left part of your stomach ache at your sudden movement.

“angel?”

you turned your head to the other side of your hospital bed. finding the bastard of the barrel curled up into himself, sitting in a tiny chair.

his hair was dishevelled, and you knew that had run his fingers through it in frustration the way he always did when he was anxious. he had clearly been sleeping, that ‘oh i just woke up and i’m disoriented as hell’ look sketched onto his face. 

but because this is kaz, he quickly got alert. 

he sat up in his chair abruptly. moving himself closer to you, even though the chair he was sitting in was practically pressed up against the bed already. 

“what happened?” you croaked out, but your voice sounded like a stranger’s. it sounded like someone who smoked two packs a day and hadn’t drank water in months.

but kaz let out a sigh of relief at the sound of your voice anyways. his shoulders relaxed slightly as if your voice was some kind of tether to his reality or some kind of reminder of safety.  

“you got hurt on the job. the plan went wrong. the dime lions had more people than we expected and-”

“and one of them moved at you and i jumped in front of the blade. rightfully getting myself, stabbed in the side.” you suddenly remembered aloud. 

you tried to let out a chuckle and flinched in the process. 

kaz flinched as well, running his gloved hands through his hair. “yeah. that’s exactly what you did.”

you gave him a sheepish smile and leaned back onto your pillow, forcing your body to relax. 

“angel” he said, his voice cracking. “why would you do that” he whispered so low you almost didn’t catch it.

you rolled your eyes, “kaz, love, i love you. it didn’t even occur to me to do anything else. you mess with my natural survival instincts dirtyhands.”

he chuckled lowly. he looked up at you, his eyes clouded with worry and regret. regret that he hadn’t done more? that he hadn’t been able to protect you. 

before he could get a word in, blame himself, tell you how stupid you were, you opened your mouth. “brekker, before you say something stupid, don’t. im lying in a hospital bed in a lot of pain and all i need right now is comfort and probably some food.”

he pulled his lips into a thin line but nodded his head. 

you moved to the far side of your hospital bed, leaving him room to take a seat. he understood your intention and claimed into the bed, leaving enough room between the two of you that only your shoulders were touching through the fabric of his black coat.

you grabbed his one of his gloved hands and slowly pulled of the glove, watching his reaction. when he gave you a nod you pulled it off completely, setting it aside. you linked his pinkie with yours and dropped your joined hands in the space between your bodies. 

the two of you smiled down at your hands.

“i’m glad you’re okay angel. you’re not allowed to leave me just yet.”

[tobesoalive]

rises the moon (Josh Kiszka x Reader)

here’s a fluffy smut pice for y'all about the hottest man alive, Josh Kiszka! Let me know if you like it and want to see more of this stuff, I had a lot of fun writing it! Anyways....enjoy!

WARNINGS: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, the usual 

“C’mon babe! Let's celebrate a little!” you nagged your sweaty, grinning boyfriend. Josh Kiszka was the love of your life, and had been since you met three years ago. It was a warm August night and he had just gotten done performing his first show in months.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let loose a bit” he replied with a grin. “I’m kinda tired though so do you mind if it’s just the two of us?”

“I guess I could tolerate that” you tease.

After about another hour of hearing people congratulate the boys and helping pack up it was time to go. You were able to make it to the car without being swarmed by fans, but still stopping for a few photos. You offered to drive so that Josh could sleep for a little bit. Finally you pulled up to the little bungalow you and Josh had started living in a few months ago. It only made sense for the two of you to live together since you were practically inseparable.

Entering through the garage you kicked off your shoes as Josh questioned what you had in mind.

“Well I was thinking we could put on a record and maybe cook some food? Maybe even enjoy a glass of wine if you’re feeling wild”

“You know me baby, I’m always wild!” he responds, doing a weird voice that you rolled your eyes at, but deep down you loved it.

“I think the term feral suits you better” you quip, pulling him in for an embrace.

He rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing deeply. You know how stressed and anxious he has been these past few weeks leading up to the show, and it made you so happy to see him finally relaxing. Silently your bodies part ways and he makes his way over to your extensive vinyl collection in the living room. He’s flipping through records when you run up to your bedroom and come back down the stairs, hands hiding behind your back.

“Hey Frodo, I have a little surprise for you”

“Oh boy what could it be, a sacred ring or some shit?” he says without looking up, putting a Fleet Foxes record on the turntable.

“Sorry for calling you a hobbit, I just wanted to make sure I got your attention.” you say as he finally makes his way over to you.

From behind your back you pull out a single joint and a lighter, one you had hand decorated with little stars and a moon. On it you had written in gold Sharpie “You are my sun”.

“Babe this is so amazing!” he says while taking the lighter in his hand and flipping it around. Josh was always keeping your sketches and random doodles that you thought nothing of, so you thought you’d put them on something he’d get use out of.

“I’m sorry I know it’s small, I just wanted to give you a little something to say congrats.”

“Are you kidding mama?! I love it, you didn’t have to do anything!” he assures you before pulling you in for a kiss.

“I will definitely be putting this to good use, but I think we should break it in now” he says before pulling you over to the couch and putting the joint between his lips.

He passes it to you and you inhale deeply, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs. This was an activity you and Josh liked to partake in when you had a stressful day, or when you were going on an adventure, or anytime really. Not that either of you weren’t already very laid back and silly.

After a few minutes of the two of you passing the joint back and forth it was gone, and you ashed it out in the tray on the coffee table, setting the lighter to rest beside it.

“God that was a really great present actually, I just wish there was a way I could repay you” Josh says turning to face you.

“It’s a gift, you don’t need to repay me!” you tell him, starting to feel the effects of the weed.

“But you see I’m just a giving person, and what I’d like to give to you right now is a mind blowing orgasm” Josh says, and you can’t help but burst out laughing. You cover your face with your hands before facing him and saying “Kiszka you are such a dork, you’re lucky I find you so attractive!”

Both of you are grinning as your lips collide and after a minute of making out you pull back.

“After some deep consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that that is an offer i just can’t refuse”

“Oh my love you are in for a treat!” he tells you before pulling you onto his lap.

Your hips start to move against his involuntarily, and you can feel him growing harder beneath his shorts. You tug at the hem of his white shirt and he lifts his arms up so you can pull it off him. Once again you break the kiss to move down on to your knees, ready to tease him with your mouth.

“Oh no princess, none of that tonight. All I really want to do is taste you so you better get your ass on this couch” he says with a small laugh.

You giggle as you get back on the sofa, barely able to contain your excitement. He unbuttons your pants and awkwardly yanks them off, causing you both to laugh. Quickly, his face becomes more serious as he concentrates on running his fingers up and down on the inside of your thighs, lightly ghosting around where you need him most.

“Joshua please” you whimper as you throw your head back, becoming more and more frustrated by his teasing.

“Sorry baby, I was just admiring how wet you already are. Was it from me?”

“Mhmm” you moan in response, tilting your head back down to make eye contact with him.

“Well I suppose I could treat you, since you’ve been such a good girl” he smirks before pulling your panties to the side, running his middle finger up and down your slit.

His teeth bite at his bottom lip as he darts his eyes from your wet center and back up to your eyes. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him, the sight of him alone is enough to make you come.

Slowly, he pushes his middle finger in, down to the last knuckle, letting it sit there a moment before he starts to pump it in and out of you at a lazy pace. Your walls contract around him as your eyes start to tear up, desperate for more.

“Josh more please” you plead with him. Instantly he attaches his lips to your clit, the motion all too familiar to him, the hairs above his lip and on his chin adding extra sensation. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud as his finger speeds up it’s pace. You can feel the heat start to pool in your stomach as he continues his actions. He adds a second finger, taking a moment to pull his mouth away and use his free hand to pull your panties to the side more. He dives back in, more concentrated than ever, fingers curling up to hit the delicate spot inside of you. You can see him rutting against the couch and it’s enough to make you throw your head back and let out a loud and rather pornographic moan.

“I think I’m gonna-” you start to say as the fire in your belly builds.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it, cum for me” he says, flashing his gorgeous smile quickly before returning his lips to your clit, moaning around it, sending delicious vibrations through your body. Your fingers lace through his curls as his fingers pump at an insane speed, sending you over the edge.

Your body shakes as stars form behind your closed eyelids, every part of you basked in complete euphoria, oblivious to everything around you. After a minute you open your eyes as you whimper at the feeling of Josh dragging his fingers out of you, but the feeling of his breath still hot against your clit.

You look down to see Josh with his eyes closed, partially hunched over as his hands rest on his knees, your juices gleaming on his tan skin.

“Wow, I owe you one, that was fucking amazing” you sigh.

“I’d love that, but I’m gonna have to take a rain check, seems my problem took care of itself” he says, cheeks turning red.

You look down to see a dark spot on his green shorts, realizing that he was experiencing just as much pleasure from pleasuring you.

“Joshua Michael Kiszka, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life!” you say before pulling him into a kiss, the taste of you lingering on his lips. The thought of him getting off from eating you out alone drove you wild, he really fucking loves you.

“God I’ve never been more tired and content in my life” he says as his arms find their way around you, head burying into your neck.

“Well my prince, why don't you go upstairs and get in bed while I get you a glass of water and a snack”

“Oh my god, how did I get this lucky?” he says

“I ask myself the same thing everyday” you say before giving him one last kiss.

“You are my moon”

“And you my sun”

And you meant every bit of it.

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

Happy anniversary to the only dating sim ever

Though for real happy anniversary monster prom!! The game means a lot to me, it’s the first thing I really got to connect with my very first group of queer friends with. To me the series stands for all the good things that have happened since I’ve left my conservative shithole hometown and I wish it a prosperous life!

Originally the plan was to draw sketches of all of my ships for this incredibly queer euphoria inducing series and post them for today, but I ran into issues on this one alone when just this, an uncolored sketch, took several really tiring hours to get to a state I (kind of) liked, and as an art student I have a lot of other drawing projects that really need my attention like… for grade reasons.

So I’m spreading these posts over a couple days with one ship per day and my thoughts about it!

Now this one… CalOz.

I am very much like Oz in personality, so I sort of naturally shipped him with the character I fell for, but I also think he has some of the best chemistry with Cal. When you read the polaroid info for Oz’s pairings, a lot of the relationships don’t really seem like they work well for him (mentioning Liam and Damien both can stress him out and get frustrated with his general meekness, or how Miranda’s need to control him is labeled as “not healthy” or something, it’s been a while since I read those descriptions) but Cal just seems to be among the best matches for him. Sure they’re no opposites attract pair, but they’re both very nerdy goody-two-shoes types who really struggle with social skills. There’s also the fact that Cal always wants to learn from organics, and he makes for a nice pillar of comfort for Oz to express himself in a judgement-free environment, because be it his interests or just feelings, Cal wants to listen and learn from it all. So having a neurodivergent partner seems good for Cal, to me at least, because it can show him the brain doesn’t have to all think one way, and Oz is so gentle and sweet, if Cal’s ever confused about something he has no issue explaining it to him, and in turn Cal is very patient and understanding of Oz’s anxiety. They share a lot of the same issues but can also give advice to one another that they can’t take themselves, and I feel like Oz and his wide array of emotions have really taught Cal a lot about both the organic mind, yet also himself and his capabilities to feel. I think the pair empathize with each other a lot, especially from a social front when it comes to awkwardness or burnout, and speaking as someone with legit debilitating anxiety, even if self-doubts and negative thoughts will never go away having the presence of a really patient person who doesn’t mind reassuring you that you’re okay and loved is really, really valuable. Also having someone who has the same struggles as you is both comforting, but seeing your issues through someone else can really help the both of you understand yourselves better at times and I think these two definitely do that for each other. I mean, Cal’s a computer, but… I mean, look at literally anything he’s done. That’s a neurodivergent-ass computer. That and Cal is just the brand of calm, kind and sane that literally no one else in the cast is lmao

VERY long story short, they’re my top pair and as someone who resonates so deeply with Oz (and is relentlessly bullied by my friends for being a robotfucker) they’re a huge comfort ship as well.

Tomorrow will be my preferred ship with Brian! I am so sorry if this kind of infodumping isn’t what you signed up for.

Happy anniversary again, Monster Prom!

[sierrasfics]

More than a Model, Jean Kirstein x Reader

Minors DNI

You and Jean have lived together for a few years, and the two of you have been friends for even longer. Jean's career as an artist is starting to take off, but it doesn't come without problems. One night when Jean is struggling finding reference photos to use for a new series of paintings, you volunteer to be his personal model. After seeing you pose, Jean starts to realize that he might think of you as more than a roommate and more than a model.

Part 2

Read on ao3

Your spot in the kitchen where you are currently preparing dinner has given you the perfect view of your artist roommate, who seems to be growing increasingly frustrated at the moment. As you stand there, you see him seeming to be endlessly scrolling in his laptop, sketchbook and supplies long cast aside in frustration at this point. You could practically feel his frustration from where you stood, cutting vegetables. 

Suddenly you hear Jean slamming his laptop closed, and you see him stand up with a groan as he runs his fingers through his hair. He begins to pace around the living room, clearly trying to walk off his frustrations, but it doesn’t seem to be working very well. On his second lap around the couch, he catches you staring at him. When your eyes meet, you quickly put your head down, now feeling a bit embarrassed that you had been caught staring at him; you continue cutting vegetables as if nothing happened. In your attempt to pretend that you had not just been caught staring at him, you fail to notice Jean enter the kitchen until he speaks.

“Sorry about that. Do you need any help with making dinner?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. His checks have the faintest hint of pink in them. You can tell that he is a bit embarrassed by his outburst.

“I should be able to handle it from here, but if you want to get the pan from the top shelf in the cabinet, I would appreciate it.” you say. As he turns to the cabinet and grabs the pan, you can’t stop yourself from asking, “Jean, are you okay? You seemed really upset about something.”

“Yeah I’m fine… It’s just that, I have this idea for a new series of paintings, but I just can’t seem to find any good references for the ideas that I have,” he admits. 

You continue with your dinner preparations by throwing the vegetables into the pan. “So what’s your idea and why is it so hard to find references for it?” you ask.

Jean passes you the seasonings that you need as you start to cook the vegetables. “I really want to do a series of paintings inspired by those old paintings of pin-up girls, but I have a vision in my head that I just can't seem to find a good reference for what I have in mind.”

“Really? I thought that there was all kinds of pin-up girl art. Shouldn’t it be easy to find references for something like that” you ask while starting to plate the chicken you just pulled out of the oven.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, but I just can’t find good enough references that would work for what I see in my head. It’s just so frustrating being able to see it in my head, but every time I go to sketch it out, I just can’t seem to get it.”

You frown, now sympathizing with Jean; it sucked to see your friend struggle, especially when you knew how skilled of an artist he was. “Why don’t you try using one of those 3D model things to work out the poses?” you suggest while reaching for a bottle of wine.

Jean reaches into one of the upper cabinets to grab two wine glasses, while answering you, “I hate to admit it, but I’m not very good at working with 3D models like that. Besides, it's not just the pose, it's how the fabric lays, the shading, it’s just everything!” Jean lets out a sigh, his frustration creeping back. “I just feel like I need to get this idea out of my head, but I can’t.”

You finish putting food on both plates while Jean pours you both a glass of wine. “I’m sorry that you’re having such a hard time, Jean. What if you got someone to model for you? That way you could set things up like how they are in your head.”

You both move to the dinner table, plates and wine glasses in hand. Jean gives you an answer when you both sit down. “I guess that could work, but I don’t know anyone who would be willing to model for me. I guess I could ask Sasha, but I don’t think she'd really want to. Mikasa definitely wouldn't want to, and she’d probably kick my ass for even asking, then I would have to listen to whatever Eren would have to say about the situation.” Jean rolls his eyes and you giggle.

“What about Connie? You could always put him in a skimpy outfit and thigh-highs,” you say, jokingly.

Jean groans and rolls his eyes once more. “As if Connie would do that. Besides, I don’t want to punish myself by seeing him like that.”

You let out another laugh and take a sip of wine. “Well, there is one person you haven’t considered asking,” you say while watching Jean take a bite of food.

“Yeah? Who is that?” he asks, mouth full of food. 

“Me of course! I would model for you! I wouldn’t consider myself the modeling type, but in your time of need, I will live up to my status as being the best roommate ever and help you make your artistic vision come to life.” It's true that you’ve never been the type to consider doing modeling, it just never seemed like something that you could see yourself doing. Models are held to a certain beauty standard that most people could not reach, and, in your eyes, you just so happened to be in the majority of people that did not meet that ridiculously high standard. Despite this, you figured that you didn't have to be a professional in order to offer Jean some help with his art; even if you couldn’t do what he needed, there was no harm in offering to help your roommate out, right?

Jean stopped what he was doing, almost as if he had frozen. It was honestly making you a little nervous; was your suggestion so ridiculous that he was going to start laughing at you or something? “Listen, I-”

He cuts you off. “Would you really be willing to help me by modeling for me? You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to do this just because we’re roommates.”

You’re taken back a bit. “Of course I would be willing to help you. I know how important art is to you, and I don’t want to see you struggle just because you can’t get your ideas out. I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” you say with a seriousness in your voice before becoming more light hearted. “Besides, I don’t think I can deal with your grumpy ass until you find the perfect references for your paintings,” you say with a smirk.

Jean gives you a light laugh, “Okay, okay, I get it. Let me make a list of everything that we are going to need, and we can talk about this more tomorrow. Deal?” He sticks his hand across the table, where your hand meets his, and shake.

“Deal.”

The rest of your night went smoothly. After dinner, Jean washed the dishes; he insisted that since you were the one to cook, the least he could do was wash the dishes. From there the two of you sat and watched some tv together while Jean was scribbling in his sketchbook, likely planning what your modeling sessions would entail. It stays like this until you two part ways to get ready for bed.

You take a shower, brush your teeth, and do your skincare routine before retiring to your bedroom. As you lay in bed, trying to fall asleep you can’t help but wonder what Jean has in mind for these paintings. Would you have to be nude? Probably not, considering you remember him mentioning something about fabric, and you know Jean would never make you do something like that if you were uncomfortable; he can be an ass, but he would never do something like that. You continue to think about what he is going to have you do. What poses would you be in? What would you wear? The questions seemed endless. You continue to think over the entire situation until you are finally able to drift off to sleep.