#wish I knew how to color 🥲🥲🥲

[peerless-cucumber]

has anyone else read stephen graham jones don't fear the reaper yet

[harrysfolklore]

YES WE NEED DAD!CHARLES

baby leclerc - cl16

it’s father’s day so perfect excuse to write some dad!charles. i hope you like this tooth rooting fluff

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 288,986 others

yourinstagram my job in the paddock is wife ❤️

view all 8,028 comments

username1 ICONIC

francisca.cgomes my queenie ily 💕

↳ yourinstagram love YOU

↳ username2 the best WAGS

charlesfan1 im still not over the fact that charles is married (i know it’s been more than a year)

scuderiaferrari We love Mrs. Leclerc ❤️

↳ charlesfan2 just fell to my knees at walmart

charlesfan3 she really won in life

username3 drop the hair routine

iamrebeccad 😍

↳ username1 ferrari wags >>>>

lilyhme you mean MY wife

↳ yourinstagram absolutely 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ alex_albon Do something about this @/charles_leclerc

↳ charles_leclerc We’re doomed mate, sorry

leclerc_pascale Ma belle fille 💕💕

↳ yourinstagram je t'aime maman !

↳ charlesfan1 WHY AM I CRYING OVER THIS INTERACTION

charles_leclerc Love of my life ❤️

↳ charlesfan1 CRYING

↳ charlesfan2 SOBBING

liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,153,959 others

charles_leclerc Lovely time out in the track. Let’s go back home to the wifey now ❤️

view all 25,478 comments

charlesfan1 BABYYYYY

charlesfan2 THE CAPTION 😭

username1 i’ve never seen a man flex that he’s married this much

maxverstappen1 Whipped

↳ landonorris Don’t be jealous Max

↳ username2 CLOCK HIM

charlesfan3 WHEN IS YN GOING TO BE IN THE PADDOCK AGAIN??

↳ charlesfan1 seriously it’s been a month

francisca.cgomes MY wifey

↳ charles_leclerc Do I even bother? @/pierregasly

↳ pierregasly It’s a lost cause

↳ yourinstagram don’t be jealous of me and my wife 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charlesfan1 😭😭😭

username3 bring yn back to the paddock

yourinstagram my hubby is so 😍😍😍

↳ landonorris I feel so single right now

↳ charles_leclerc ❤️love you

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 5,027,337 others

charles_leclerc We can’t wait to meet you, baby girl ❤️

view all 45,826 comments

charlesfan1 OMAHSKSHSUAYA

charlesfan2 IM STILL SCREAMING

lilymhe 🫶🫶🫶🥲 my heart

lewishamilton CONGRATULATIONS beautiful family already

username1 I KNEW IT

charlesfan3 can we talk about how casually charles dropped that information on the interview 😭😭 like SIR

↳ charlesfan1 and how he was trying to contain his smile while he was talking IM SOBBING

pierregasly CONGRATULATIONS MY FRIEND 👏👏

schecoperez Welcome to fatherhood Charles !

charlesfan4 HOLD ON BABY GIRL ??? THEY’RE HAVING A GIRL ?????

↳ charlesfan2 ALREADY DYING OVER GIRL DAD CHARLES

↳ yourinstagram we don’t know what we’re having yet (it’s going to be a surprise) but charles insists we’re having a girl !

↳ charlesfan1 IM CRYING WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION

↳ charles_leclerc It’s called fatherly instincts 😘

↳ charlesfan2 AHHHH

scuderiaferrari We can’t wait to have a little Tifosi running around the garage ❤️

↳ charlesfan1 crying once again over the thought of charles bringing his kids to the races

georgerussell63 Can I be godfather?

↳ maxverstappen1 No, I am

↳ pierregasly You wish

↳ arthur_leclerc I’m the brother, It’s me

↳ charlesfan2 IM SCREAMING THEY’RE ALL SO

oscarpiastri Congratulations 🫶

charlesfan5 i’ve been weeping over this post and the comments for an hour now

redbullracing We make baby sized redbull jackets

↳ username1 REDBULL ADMIN WILDING 😭

↳ charles_leclerc Never.

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️❤️

joris__trouche Whoever said they wanted to be godfather, just want you to know that I won

↳ username2 😭😭😭

leclerc_pascale 💕💕💕💕

francisca.cgomes LOVE YOU BOTH 🫶

landonorris Uncle Lando is ready to babysit

↳ charles_leclerc Bold of you to assume I’ll let you babysit my kid

↳ landofan1 HEEEEEEEELPPPP

danielricciardo Beautiful news, you will make the cutest family

lilyzneimer 🥺

mclaren Papaya is a great color for a nursery 🧡

↳ charles_ leclerc NO

↳ landonorris YES

lorenzotl My baby brother is having a baby, I feel old

yourinstagram squish is already so loved by all of their uncles and aunties 🥺🥺 i love you all

↳ charles_leclerc Her* we’re having a girl 🥰

↳ yourinstagram STOP THIS

charlesfan6 this comment section is a rollercoaster

liked by charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad and 502,188 others

yourinstagram the last few days 💌 the hubby is glued to the bump whenever he’s home, squish and i watch races together and i swear i can feel them jump when charles talks on the screen, we miss you papa @/charles_leclerc 🤍

view all 9,644 comments

username1 this caption just killed me

username2 THIS IS SO CUTE

charlesfan1 IM SOBBING ACTUALLY

lilymhe 💗💗 cutest family ever

scuderiaferrari Little Tifosi in the making ❤️

↳ mclaren They can always become Papaya

↳ charles_leclerc Never, we settled it

↳ username1 not the admins fighting

carlossainz55 Sending you big hugs from me and Rebecca 🫶

charlesfan2 CHARLES GO BACK TO YOUR PREGNANT WIFEEEE

francisca.cgomes I’m coming with sweets for you and baby leclerc 💕💕

↳ yourinstagram this is why i love you

username3 they still don’t know what they’re having ahhh

↳ charlesfan3 but i bet charles keeps insisting it’s a girl

maxverstappen1 Don’t worry, I’m making sure to give him all the girl dad tips along with Checo while you’re home

↳ yourinstagram we don’t know if it’s a girl stop it 😭

↳ charles_leclerc It’s a girl ❤️

↳ username3 omg girldads max checo and charles

landonorris So, about godfather again?

↳ pierregasly No

↳ arthur_leclerc Give it up

↳ alex_albon It’s not happening

leclerc_pascale l'attente est presque terminée!

↳ charlesfan1 OMFG SHE SAID THAT THE WAIT IS ALMOST OVER THE BABY MUST BE COMING REALLY SOON

↳ charlesfan2 YELLING

charles_leclerc I miss you so much, my girls ❤️

↳ charlesfan3 he’s NOT giving up

↳ yourinstagram why do i even bother

↳ yourinstagram we miss you too 💗

liked by maxverstappen1, yourinstagram and 7,836,377 others

charles_leclerc Welcome to the world, our precious girl ❤️

Words cannot express the overwhelming joy and love I feel holding you in my arms for the first time. Becoming your daddy is the greatest gift life has given me, and I promise to cherish and protect you every single day. Thank you to everyone for your incredible support and well wishes during this special time.

PS: Father’s intuition is always right 😉

view all 72,368 comments

charlesfan1 OH LORD

charlesfan2 I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES AT WALMART

username1 baby leclerc is here 🥺🥺🥺

georgerussell63 Baby Leclerc is so loved by so many already 🤍

lewishamilton Congratulations to your beautiful family, wishing you all the happiness in the world ‬ with your little girl 🫶

↳ username2 THIS IS SO SWEET OMG

charlesfan3 HE WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG 😭

charlesfan4 CHARLES IS A GIRL DAD AHHHH

schecoperez Enhorabuena Charles! Parenthood is a wild ride just like a race weekend. Enjoy every lap! Welcome to the club

maxverstappen1 Can’t wait to take her under my wing and make her world champion

↳ redbullracing Redbull gives you wings 😉

↳ charles_leclerc NO

arthur_leclerc I’m the happiest uncle ever ❤️

francisca.cgomes I’m still crying. Baby Leclerc we love you so much 🤍

charlesfan5 FERRARI PRINCESS IS HERE

scuderiaferrari A future Ferrari champion in the making? 🤔 Wishing you all the happiness and joy in this new chapter of life!

↳ username1 they got the serious admin for this one

carmenmmundt What a precious blessing. Sending lots of love to you two ✨

oscarpiastri Congratulations 🧡

charlesfan7 THIS IS THE MOST PRECIOUS CAPTION EVER

danielricciardo Aww, mini Leclerc! Congrats mate, can't wait to see her in a little Ferrari jumpsuit

carlossainz55 So happy for you my friend, you’re going to be the best dad for the little princess ❤️

↳ iamrebeccad We love you so much, baby Leclerc

pierregasly Wow mate! Time really flies, I’m so happy to see my childhood best friend become a dad 💙

↳ username1 this is so wholesome

username4 I WONDER WHAT HER NAME IS

alex_albon I read this caption to Lily and she started sobbing, we love you a lot in this household, baby Leclerc

joris__trouche I love my goddaughter so much 💗

↳ maxverstappen1 When was that settled?

↳ pierregasly I would also like to know

↳ arthur_leclerc I’m really offended right now

↳ charlesfan1 HEEEELP

mlnmarta Baby Chiara is ready to play with her little cousin 🥺

↳ charlesfan2 AHHH BABY CHIARA AND BABY LECLERC TOGETHER

landonorris UNCLE LALA MODE ON LOVE YOU ALREADY PRINCESS LECLERC

↳ landofan1 😭😭❤️

↳ maxfan1 stop P will get jealous

yourinstagram your love and support have made this journey truly magical. thank you for being an amazing hubby and father already. we're so grateful for you 🤍

↳ charlesfan1 THATS IT. IM CRYING AGAIN

↳ charlesfan2 this family is the purest thing ever

↳ charles_leclerc Thank you for everything ❤️

[e-dubbc11]

Ik the summer sleepover is long gone 🥲 But i got hit with Matt Murdock feels and I saw the angst prompt list. Feel free to ignore this!!!!!

So this is for my fave catholic hoe 🫠

"You have to let go." - Y/N's already dead and he keeps hallucinating that she's still there

or

"I give up. You won." - Y/N breaks up with Matt because he always keeps her at arms length but it reaches breaking point when Elektra comes back

Chose wisely 😭💖

I could never ignore anything you send me, my dear friend ♥️ I hope you like what I did. I went with the first one BUT your second prompt reminded me of a Matt fic I wrote awhile back called Unsung Hero, so if you’re feeling ambitious, I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for always sending me things that pop into your brain, I love them ♥️

Letting Go

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, dealing with grief

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’ve been gone for awhile yet Matt still feels you everywhere he goes, he swears you’re there with him but you’re not and in order to start processing his grief, he has to say goodbye

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It hit him every time he walked into the apartment. It was here where he felt an overwhelming sense of your presence…only you weren’t there, you had been dead for 8 months now.

Reminders of you were scattered all over the apartment like stray pairs of earrings on the nightstand, a bottle of your favorite perfume, or the blanket you used to when you were quietly reading on the couch.

Not having his sight, Matt was never exactly sure what you looked like. He only had the pictures in his mind. Based on the description you had given him, he knew your eye color, your hair color, and the tone of your skin but he remembered the softness in your voice, the curves and hollows of your body, and the sound of your heartbeat as you slept soundly next to him.

Matt could never see your smile but he knew when you were smiling. He felt it tug on his heart as it stretched across your face when he did something to make you laugh or when he called you “sweetheart” but it also crushed him to taste the salt in the air if you had been crying.

He loved the smell of fresh flowers you would bring home every Friday for your date night at home but you always bought ones that didn’t have a strong scent because you didn’t want it to be too overwhelming for him. He loved how considerate you were, worrying about overloading his senses, like if the music was too loud or if cleaning products were too strongly scented.

Matt’s only wish was that he could have kept you safe, he wished he could have protected you, and more than anything he wished he wasn’t the first one to hear your heart stop beating.

Everywhere he went, he felt you with him, and he swore you were there. When Matt stopped for his morning coffee or Thai food, he had to stop himself from ordering your usual. He just couldn’t believe you were gone. You were dead and never coming back.

The guilt ate at him every day. Matt blamed himself and his nights as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen suffered because of it. “What’s the point in doing this if I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most?” He had asked himself after a particularly bad night.

Talking to Father Lantom helped but not as much as he hoped it would. Matt wanted answers that Father Lantom didn’t have. He would just tell him that “God had his reasons.” And Matt just thought he was being punished in every way possible. It was the typical Catholic guilt.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it but you know exactly what I would do, Red. I’d make sure they’d never get back up again.” Frank had said.

By asking Frank for advice, you knew Matt’s desperation was apparent as he had seriously contemplated taking their life. He knew it wouldn’t bring you back but maybe it would make him feel better knowing he avenged your death.

Maybe the hallucinations would stop, maybe he would stop hearing your voice in his head, and just maybe it would stop him from reaching for you as he was trying to fall asleep at night. The scum of Hell’s Kitchen felt his wrath every night and with every punch he landed, with every drop of blood that was spilled, he had hoped he would start to feel better but he didn’t.

And what about the tortured and unspeakable dreams where he would have to hear you cry out in pain over and over again. The heartbreak Matt felt left him miserable enough to be vulnerable whether he was awake or asleep.

At least when he was awake, he could throw himself into his work, talk to Foggy and Karen, and you would be far away from his mind. It was the alone time that left him confused, angry, and ashamed. Those feelings infiltrated his body where his heart was scorched and irregular with spasms.

“I still feel her here, Foggy! I can still smell her perfume, feel her smile against my lips, and hear her laugh. I swear she’s still here!” Said Matt, emphatically.

“But she’s not Matt, she’s gone.” Foggy had said.

You knew all of this was true because you were stuck in between worlds, you could see him. And like an angel on his shoulder you were there with him, protecting him as he was protecting his city.

As he sat perched on the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, you would reach for him, gently brushing his shoulder, and you were positive that he could tell you were there by the way his head would tilt to the side. You knew you couldn’t stay with him forever, but long enough to be able to tell him goodbye and that you were alright.

With his cheeks flushed with rage and his mouth twisted in anger, Matt left the office and headed for home even though that’s where he felt your presence the most.

He decided not to go out that night but instead he set aside the random belongings that you had left behind, held them in between his fingers, and gently inhaled the scent of your perfume one last time.

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you angel. I know you are; I’m not crazy like Foggy thinks I am.” Said Matt.

You’d give anything to be able to touch him again, to feel his days-old stubble against your cheek, or run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling but knew you didn’t have much time so you moved in close to look at him one more time.

Matt was so handsome. You were going to miss his hazel colored eyes with the little flecks of gold like autumn leaves, the dimple on his cheek when he smiled, his soft full lips against yours, and the low gravelly tone of his voice. It always sounded so calm and soothing to you except on the night you died.

His screams could probably be heard for blocks in every direction but he was the last thing you saw before your world went dark and you were suddenly looking down at your body while Matt tried and then the paramedics tried to revive you.

After your funeral, Matt stayed after everyone else had left and apologized profusely for not being able to save you. Matt had to let you go but he told himself that burden of guilt rested on his shoulders. Although, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

You knew he couldn’t hear you but you replied anyway.

“I’m here, Matty, but I have a feeling not for much longer.” You said, trying to touch his hand but it just passed straight through and maybe you willed him to hear you as you spoke again. “You have to let go.”

You sensed he was ready to say goodbye which pained you more than that mugger’s lethal stab wound ever could.

“I don’t want to but I have to let you go, sweetheart.” Matt said as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you, y/n.”

If you were capable of crying, you would have.

“I’ll always love you too, Matt.” You said with a warm smile and “touching” his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale just as you swept your hand across his cheek, almost as if he could feel your touches.

A slight smirk stretched across his lips as he said, “You’re trying to tell me you’re ok, aren’t you.”

Your hand ghosted against his other cheek and he smiled again.

“I’m ok, Matty. It’s alright, you can let go now.” You said.

The light at your back was calling to you. It was time to go. Although you didn’t know where you were being called to, you wished with all your heart that Matt would be alright and deep down, you knew he would be.

As you turned to walk away, you gazed at Matt one last time, committing to memory what he was wearing, the look on his face, and any other small things you never wanted to forget about him.

You loved the way he adjusts his glasses, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, the way he puts his suit on in the morning, or anytime he kissed you and told you he loved you.

You wondered if he had little things about you he committed to his memory, and if he did, what were they? It made you sad that you’ll never know what they could be but you hoped that Matt Murdock would never ever forget you.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @k-marzolf @fluffyprettykitty @hellskitchens-whore

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

[cozage]

Hello!

Firstly, I love your work ❤️❤️

Secondly, I saw your 2k follower milestone post.

Could you do Trafalgar Law as a girl dad? Like with a black wife (I'm black and I want this man so bad lol)

Maybe with him finding out she's pregnant, then finding out it's a girl. Just how he'd take the news and how he'd treat their daughter.

And, if you have the time, maybe when she's older and wants to date somebody. Idk I feel like he's a protective loving father 🥲🥲

A/N: I could go on and on about Trafalgar Law as a Girl Dad. He was made to have a daughter.  Characters: female reader x Law Cw: some talk about infertility and diseases, little bit of angst. Total word count:770

Girl Dad

Trafalgar Law was not expecting a positive pregnancy test. All signs had pointed he was infertile, a result of Amber Lead Sickness he had as a child. 

Even despite that prognosis and you all being careful, the test in front of him was positive. He was going to be a father. 

A part of him was ecstatic. The two of you had talked about kids before, through adoption or other options. But this child growing inside your womb was his child, made of DNA from him and his favorite person in the whole world. 

He spirals a few times, alone in his office. What if the baby had Amber Lead Poisoning? What is the life expectancy of a child in this generation? What if the child spreads the disease to you and you get sick? Some nights he can’t sleep; he’s just up thinking about What-ifs.

He frets over everything during your pregnancy. If your BPM or heart rate is even slightly elevated, if your bloodwork is just slightly off, he starts to worry. He runs test after test, just to make sure everything is okay

Even things like the way the nursery room is set up stresses him out. If the bed is too big or if the blankets will be a problem, the risk of certain paints or old furniture. This man has studied so many medical diseases that he’s paranoid about anything and everything.

At week twenty he’s running a weekly scan and finds out it’s a girl. He breaks down in tears, thinking of his mother and his sister. He wished they could be here to celebrate with you all. But it’s only the two of you in his little doctor's office. 

He wanted to find a more fun way to tell you the news, but his tears of joy tell you everything you need to know. Of course it’s a girl. You always knew he would make the best father for a little girl. 

When she’s finally brought into the world, Law cannot stop staring at her. She has your skin and his eyes, and you’ve never seen a more beautiful combination for a human being.

Sometimes you’ll wake up in the middle of the night just to find Law holding her while she sleeps, completely transfixed on her. He’s always smiling like an idiot, just watching her sleep.

He is always whispering in her ear, telling her how much he loves her and how special she is. She grows up constantly hearing how much she is loved by everyone on the ship. 

As she gets older, Law has a hard time saying no to her. She wants that cute princess dress? Of course she can have it. You’ve never seen this man bend his will so easily to another human. But he'd give her the moon if she asked.

He will dress up in tiaras and have tea parties. Everyone on the ship will! Sometimes you’ll be walking around and it will be strangely quiet, and you just know you’re little princess has gotten those boys doing her bidding in some way or another. 

He sets up a little desk for her in his office when she turns three, and you are BAFFLED. The man never lets anyone in his office! And now your daughter has a DESK in there, full of crayons and coloring books and journals.

She has a knack for medicine too and loves to make her own “potions” (aka dyed water. Law isn’t THAT crazy) in the lab. He starts teaching her how to use pipettes and measure out liquids. Once she turns 8, he shows her how to run tests and read medical data. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

On the ship, she has full reign. Whatever she wants to do, she’s welcome to do it. Law only ever raises his voice at her when she’s in danger or when he’s scared. 

On island visits, it’s a little bit different. He doesn’t like her to leave his side, even as she creeps into her teenage and young adult years. 

He has a really hard time letting her have her freedom. He knows what kind of people wait around the corner of islands on the Grand Line, eager to get a girl of her stature and her beauty. He’s trained her how to fight, but he’s still desperate to protect her from the world.

It’s hard sometimes, having a husband who loves so deeply and wants to protect so much. You often have to be the mediator, reminding Law to be gentle and reminding your daughter that he just wants to protect her. 

But you’re a family, and you always love each other and forgive each other. It’s not always perfect, but you would never trade it, and neither would Law.

[hp-hcs]

Yandere Theo & Enzo x male muggle reader

Where they both go out one night to see what the outside of the wizarding world is like and bump into a muggle (the reader) who lets them stay at his house and shows them around, thinking they’re tourists.

But they fall madly in love with him and now when they have to go back to hogwarts they kidnap him and take him with them.

The reader is stuck in their room, a spell cast where he can’t leave and he’s freaking out.

+ can they be like super touchy with him and affectionate and possessive and he’s just thinking that it’s like a normal thing from “whatever country they’re from”

T h a n k s (:

OH i wish i had a tenth of the imagination y’all have i mean cmon y’all be out here bringing the most well thought out ideas and my fics are all just like “l i ght hu ose 👍🥰👍”

oh also i don’t speak italian so if i fucked up that’s why lmfao i took fucking latin in high school, not anything actually useful 🥲

requests open!

BIC — yandere! enzo berkshire x male! muggle! reader x yandere! theodore nott

warnings: kidnapping/abduction, infatuation (?), implied tobacco use

(also ik they wouldn’t be using US dollars but shhhh)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh, Merlin, my father is going to kill me-”

“Relax,” Theo rolled his eyes, a bit winded from Apparating. “Think of it as just a… fifteen minute excursion. Tops.”

“Right, tops,” Enzo mumbled anxiously, rubbing his freezing hands together as another gust of snow blew past.

As he stamped his feet in an attempt to get feeling back into his frigid lower limbs, Enzo looked through the windows of the damned store Theo just had to show him. (There’s this one boy there, Enz, and he’s just gorgeous. You gotta see him.)

Large posters dominated most of the windows, advertising things Enzo had never heard of before, like whatever a ‘Monster Java’ and ‘Geekvape’ was. Stacked outside the store was an entire shelving unit of something called ‘propane’.

Through the windows, Enz could see rows upon rows of candy, chips, snacks, sodas, all in obnoxiously saturated colored packaging. A buzzing neon sign that hurt to look at flashed the word OPEN in blue and red.

This store was awesome.

Lorenzo looked up at the half burnt-out sign above the door that proclaimed this magically wonderful place to be the shop of ‘Jacksons’.

A small bell chimed when Theo pulled open the door, startling Enzo. He followed his much more confident friend inside the store, looking around with wide eyes.

Theodore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“Okay, the guy I was telling you about? He’s kind of under the impression that I’m like, a tourist from out of the country, and that’s why we’re so unfamiliar with their wares. If he asks, we’re Italian exchange students and only speak shitty English, got it?”

Enzo nodded. As if on cue, a ‘Jacksons’ employee popped up out of seemingly nowhere, startling the fuck out of him.

“Hiya, Theodore!”

The employee—a boy around their age, maybe seventeen at the most—was unusually chipper for 10PM on a Sunday.

This must be the guy.

“Who’s your friend here, Theodore?” You asked, smiling.

“Hello, Y/N! This is Lorenzo.”

“Hello,” Enzo greeted softly, his cheeks flushed pink from the snowstorm outside (and that’s the only reason, Theo, stop laughing.)

“Can I help you boys find anything or’re y’all just looking around?”

Enzo couldn’t look away from you. How small you seemed in comparison to his awkwardly lanky height, the way the harsh fluorescents cast dramatic shadows of your eyelashes across your cheekbones, the light blush on the tips of your ears as you looked at Theodore.

Theodore.

He’d said your name. You’d said his name. You knew each other?

How often does he fucking come here? Enzo wondered, a sharp stab of jealousy running through him.

“Cigarettes,” Theo said immediately, exaggerating his usually undetectable accent to an honestly ridiculous amount. Enzo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his friend’s ridiculousness.

You just smiled and ducked behind the counter. “Same as last time, or’re you trying something new?”

“Same, please. And un accendino, please,” Theo made a clicking motion with his thumb, indicating a lighter.

You nod, easily pulling down a pack of Marlboro Red without a second thought.

How often does he come here? Enzo wondered for a second time. Enough that you know his favorite kind of cigarette.

“Cheap lighter or d’you wanna go fancy?”

“Cheap, please.”

“Alrighty, one BIC lighter coming up for ya,” you grabbed a lighter off the back wall behind the counter, setting it down by the cash register.

Enzo couldn’t help himself as he stared at the bright blue chunk of… what did Muggles call it again? Plastic.

“Bic?”

You glanced up at his timid voice, shooting him a grin that was just a bit friendlier than the classic customer-service smile. “BIC. It’s just the brand. They make cheap lighters and also pens, for some reason.”

Enzo wanted to ask what a ‘pen’ was, but he had a feeling that that was a terrible idea.

“$7.98. Cash, I assume?”

Theo, for the first time, genuinely faltered, cringing apologetically as he laid down the mess of all-identical green papers on the countertop.

You smiled patiently, plucking one paper out of the spread and pushing a few buttons on the cash register, then returning two papers and a handful of coins to a baffled Theo.

Fucking Muggles, with their impossible-to-memorize currency.

“Damn. It’s really coming down out there,” you shook your head as you peered out the front window of the store, waiting for the long white piece of paper to stop moving from the odd humming machine that sat next to the cash register. “Where’re y’all staying? I don’t think you guys should try to drive home in this.”

They follow your gaze, eyes widening when they see how high the snow has risen. The storm had gotten much, much worse.

“Hey- where is your car, anyway? The parking lot’s empty,” your eyebrows furrowed as you turned back to them with a quizzical face.

Enzo mentally panicked. He knew the word ‘car’—he probably heard it while only half-paying attention in Muggle Studies—but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what a ‘car’ was.

“We walked,” Theo said quickly, jumping in and taking hold of the conversation.

“You walked?” You asked, clearly horrified. “No, no. I can’t in good conscience let you two walk back in this. Haven’t you seen the weather? It’s supposed to be like, nearly a blizzard! Worst snowstorm of the decade!”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened.

Muggles could predict the weather? Holy Salazar, his parents might’ve been wrong about Muggles’ intelligence.

You misinterpreted the way his eyes widened. “Listen, this sounds crazy, but would you guys like, consider crashing at my apartment? Just for the night? Maybe the snow’ll clear up overnight.”

Theo opened his mouth to protest, no, really, we couldn’t take advantage of such hospitality, Y/N, but Lorenzo interrupted.

“We would much like that,” he said firmly. “If it is no problem for you.”

Staying at this hot guy’s apartment for the night? Duh, that’s an obvious yes.

“It’s no problem,” you wave off his concern. “‘sides, wouldn’t want a pair of pretty boys such as yourselves to freeze to death, now would I?”

Theo stiffened and blushed bright red at that, a dopey smile spreading across his face.

Oh Merlin, were you two flirting with each other? Enzo felt that sharp spark of jealousy flare up again in his chest, dampered only by the fact that it was Theo, and not anyone else.

“It’s just right across the street. Lemme close up shop for the night, and we can make a run for it,” you say with finality, ignore Theo’s weak protests.

They watched as you lock the cash register and counter with the practiced ease of someone who had done so many, many times.

You pulled the grate down over the cigarette shelves on the back wall, flicking off the overhead lights and tugging a tiny metal string that made the painfully bright OPEN sign go dark.

“Alright, let’s go,” you said, shooing them out onto the sidewalk, buttoning up your heavy winter coat, and locking the front door.

As you stuffed the keys back into your jeans pocket, Theodore rested his hand on the small of your back.

“Lead the way, bello,” he said with a charming grin. You nodded, smiling at the difference in cultures, wow! and motioning for them to follow you.

The boys followed you in a comfortable silence, shoulders hunched up as they braced themselves against the furiously icy wind.

You all crossed the street, Theodore and Enzo both baffled when a tiny light that looked like a person indicated it was safe to cross.

Your boots clanged on the shaky metal stairs up to the third floor of your apartment building, and your boys followed resolutely.

When they reached the landing, they were met by the image of your rather quaint front door, a tiny, clearly homemade wreath hanging on the center.

“This is it. Not much, I’m afraid,” you sighed, your freezing fingers fumbling with the key as you twisted it in the lock, opening the door for them. You flicked on the lights, illuminating the interior of the small apartment. “Do you guys want tea? Hot chocolate? Coffee, if y’all are psychopaths?”

“Perhaps it is a bit late for coffee,” Theo snickered at your dry humor as he stepped inside. “Tea, if it is not a hassle?”

“‘Course not. Make yourselves at home. My mother won’t be back for hours,” you chatted happily, setting a kettle of water on the stove to boil.

Theodore tentatively sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, looking around the small apartment in surprise. At your reassuring smile, Enzo sat down too, drumming his fingers against the table anxiously.

The kettle whistled after a few minutes, and you poured three mugs of tea, setting them on the table and settling down in one of the empty seats.

Theo reached for one, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours.

After that, it all goes blank.

~~~

Your eyes slowly cracked open, your head pounding and your stomach twisting and turning. You blinked away sleep, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you sat up in bed.

What happened last night?

You startled when your brain finally registers that you’re not in your apartment.

You sat up in a panic, looking around horrified when you don’t recognize your surroundings. The room itself was decorated with an honestly abhorrent amount of green and shiny silver. There were three other beds, identical to the one you were laying in, set up intermittently around the room.

A dorm? You wondered.

A huge window dominated the wall adjacent to the bed you were in, the view on the other side of it oddly distorted and warped.

You leaned in closer, confused, when a tiny yellow fish swam by.

You gasped, and put your hand on the glass to peer out even further.

Were you underwater?

Your amazement was interrupted by a large unidentifiable shadow filling the window. You frowned, your hand drawing back from the glass, when the shadowy shape moved, opening.

A giant fucking eye.

“Jesus fucking-”

You scrambled backwards, falling off of the bed with a yelp. While you fought with the blankets that seemed hell-bent on getting tangled around your legs, the giant eye slowly blinked before the shadowy form started moving again.

A giant squid, you thought with astonishment. There was a giant fucking squid outside of this dorm room’s window.

Finally wrenching yourself free of your blanket prison, you scrambled to your feet and sprinted towards the only door in the room. You jiggled the handle, cursing when it didn’t open.

There wasn’t even a lock, a keyhole, nothing.

How the hell was this door so firmly locked shut then?

Something tacked to the door- actually, there wasn’t a tack either. How was it stuck there?

But what caught your eye was a small scrap of… paper? Parchment? It looked like the paper your art teacher once showed you how to stain with tea.

Who the fuck still writes on parchment? You wondered, scrunching your eyebrows up in confusion as you examined the perfect swoops of calligraphy on the page.

Darling – We’re really sorry for taking you with us (please don’t hate us) and we'll be back here around noon Xoxo, Theo & Enzo (those actually are our real names we promise!!)

((we also might’ve made your mother forget about your existence so she doesn’t try to find you. you’re safe though, don’t worry!))

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

wow! people actually like my stuff enough that i now have a taglist??? (some of y’all weren’t showing up, so lmk if i need to troubleshoot 😭)

@gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello can I ask for a Male!reader(if your fine with that!)

that is the first ever emperor/king in human history.

like there the secret Back up in case the God's try anything sneaky.

and after his reveal how would the God's and human's react to his reveal and his fight

His weapon: would be a synth or syth (i forgot how spell it lol) pure red and a lot of details

His outfit: would be kinda like Qin shi Huang's but a lot more red and a lot more details,he would also have claws but longer and on all of his fingers and would use them to claw his opponent

He also has a tattoo on his face but it's red snake 🐍

And yes he is Very VERY arrogant and confident.

(I wish I can add photos but it won't let me🥲)

For the one's i like to see:

Humans:Qin shi Huang, Nikola Tesla and jack the ripper

God's:Hades,buddha, poseidon

(and if you do this I want to say thank you!♡︎)

-Throughout history, many have argued who in fact was the first true king. This age-old question had led to bitter wars and numerous arguments and debates throughout the world.

-Only a few, the earliest inhabitants of earth, knew the truth of the true first king of the world. A fierce warrior and even greater leader, he led his people from the brink of destruction to flourish and live without any suffering.

-His name was Y/N, and if you were an avid history buff, you might have seen his name a few times, but as he existed before pre-recorded history, not much is known about him or that he was even a king.

-Handsome and imposing, he looked intimidating, but it was the aura of a king, of a leader, one who would defend and lead his people himself.

-His most recognizable feature was a tattoo on his face, of a red snake, intricately detailed, but instead of hiding his beauty, it enhanced it, highlighting his features.

-Y/N was one of the first humans to be brought back to Valhalla, dying a hero’s death, protecting a child from a bandit and has since lived in the lap of luxury ever since.

-You enjoyed surprising others, mainly kings, who came to Valhalla, proving that you were the first king and you lorded that over them, your arrogance being fueled by their rage as they weren’t able to refute it.

-Qin Shi Huang became a good friend to you, being the first emperor and the two of you were very similar in personality, both being very confident and arrogant, but you both had the skills and experience to back it up with.

-If anyone were to compare the clothes you wear, they would say it’s similar to Qin Shi Huang’s own clothes, only red in color and more ornate, with fine intricate details, but to the trained eye, they were very different.

-Pairing your fine clothes with long claw fingertip rings made you look like Qin Shi Huang’s ancestor, but there was no connection, you weren’t even from the same part of the world!

-Brunnhilde disliked dealing with you, as you could be a pain in the ass at times, but when Ragnarok was announced, you were one of the first she approached, because your strength and skills were unmatched, something she told you.

-You agreed to fight, and she told you that you were a secret back up fighter, just in case if the gods tried to do anything sneaky, which she knew they would try, and you agreed to her terms, keeping quiet about your position, mainly because you wanted to surprise everyone when you got to fight, because you knew that you would get to fight.

-Chernabog, a deity of evil was suddenly announced as the next fighter and Brunnhilde was scrambling, looking for a fighter before laughter filled her ears.

-She turned with a slight scowl as you were walking towards her, holding your weapon of choice, a massive red scythe, over your shoulder, “Yo Brunnhilde! Looks to me like you need a hand!” she sighed softly in relief as she agreed, knowing you could handle yourself as you walked by, putting a hand on the top of her head, petting affectionately like she was a child which earned you a small pout, but you could sense her elation.

-When you were being introduced as the first king of the world, many who knew you cheered, knowing what a warrior you were, while others who didn’t know about you got a quick history lesson that you were indeed the first king of the world but because you lived before recorded history, nobody knew this but it was true!!

-You spun your scythe easily around your neck, facing off against the massive hulking demon god who looked furious, but you had a feeling he always looked like that.

-You made it look easy, not getting a single scratch on you, and you weren’t even taking things seriously! You looked like you were playing a cat and mouse game with one of the strongest gods out there!! Pairing your scythe with your claws, you were easily tearing Chernabog to shreds!!

-Many of the gods were furious, seeing your strength before you spun your scythe, pointing up at them, “Unlike you lot who have been sitting on your asses for the past millennia- I’ve been training and working hard!”

-Your arrogance was irritating but you were showing that you could back it up and you had the gods quickly eating their words, much to your glee.

-Qin Shi Huang- Was holding his stomach in pain because he had been laughing so hard, seeing you enter and playing around with your opponent- you weren’t even fighting seriously!! Could only watch in amusement as his good friend easily beat his own opponent, leaving you walking out the victor, not a hair out of place as you whistled happily as you headed backstage. When you met up with him a short while later, you pouted, annoyed, “He wasn’t even that strong!” which made your friend laugh again as you leaned into him, your pout increasing, “At least you can give me what I want!” He heard the flirt in your words, as you were a shameless flirt, but then again, so was he, “I’ll always give you want you want~” Brunnhilde couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she passed, hearing the two of you being flirty.

-Nikola- Had sparkly eyes, seeing you using your weapons with such delicate grace, using momentum to make your attacks stronger. Was amazed at how easily you defeated your opponent, walking out the victor while Chernabog was wheeled out on a stretcher. Nikola had difficulties with his own fight, almost winning himself, but in the end, he lost. Once you got backstage you were surprised to see Nikola charging towards you and he skidded to a halt in front of you, having huge sparkling eyes and began to rapidly fire questions about your technique, asking about the science behind your style. He amused you and was appealing to the eye as well, and you cupped his chin, a grin on your face, “Quite the looker aren’t you? Come with me, I’ll answer your questions while we have some tea together.” Nikola turned bright red at your shameless flirting, which you thought was cute before he followed after you as you began to answer his questions.

-Jack- Was impressed with your skills in your fight, you looked like you were born to be a warrior and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing the color of your soul, it was such a beautiful blend of joy and annoyance. He could tell you were disappointed in your match, you wanted a challenge, but you were having fun. You literally ran into each other backstage, both of you rounding the corner at the same time. You were more solid, so Jack was the one to fall back but you quickly lunged and caught him, arm going around his waist as your other hand caught his own, minding your claws. He was stunned before his face quickly went red, trying to pull away from you and you grinned, giving him a wink, “Can’t say I blame you for falling for me!” Jack was quickly standing, trying to regain control of himself but you couldn’t help but smile at his lingering blush, “Thank you for preventing me from falling, sir. I apologize for bumping into you.” You just grinned, flirting a bit more, taking his hand and pecking the back of it, “I’m not bothered, but I won’t say no to learning your name.” Jack was completely tomato red, which made you want to tease him even more- he was so cute!

-Hades- Was very impressed with your skills, you made it look so easy and it made him wonder how powerful you really were. He was still aching from his own match with Qin Shi Huang, who was by no means a pushover. Hades knew firsthand that humans were way stronger than they looked and you were no exception. You made him curious and not many humans were able to grab and keep his attention. When he sought you out after your match, he wasn’t expecting you to be such a gremlin, teasing him about losing to Qin Shi Huang. He surprised you by pinning you to the wall, telling you to watch your mouth and you immediately grinned, “Oh~ I didn’t know the king of the underworld was so bold~ careful now- I just might have to call for help~” you were so shameless- openly flirting with him as he stepped back from you, going to leave and you instantly grin, going after him, now that you had a taste, “Aww don’t be shy- I’m sure Qin Shi Huang wouldn’t mind sharing with me~” Hades didn’t know what he got himself into with the two of you, already feeling a headache coming on.

-Buddha- The two of you have met before, long ago as you were in Valhalla before he arrived, something you liked to tease him about, and the two of you got along well over your fondness for hating gods and eating snacks. There were many who also thought the two of you were dating, with how openly and shambles you both flirted with each other, but whenever anyone asked, the both of you just said you were friends. He couldn’t help but grin, watching you fight- he knew you were extremely strong as you sparred with him all the time and you could hold your own against Buddha, so Chernabog was going to be a cake walk for you. When you entered the waiting room you were sharing with Buddha you beamed, “I’m back darling!” and he grinned from his spot on the couch in the room, “Welcome back love~” you dove into his arms as Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, seeing the nauseating display of affection, “You sure you two aren’t dating?” Buddha grinned, sending her a wink, “Aww~ are you jealous Bru-chan? I’ll always have room in my heart for you~ but no we’re not dating.” she sent him a small glare, crossing her arms over her chest, speaking sarcastically, “And I’m the Queen of Valhalla.” Instantly both you and Buddha bowed to her, speaking in unison, “‘Your majesty!’” she left you both with a large steaming lump on your heads as you two roared with laughter before she left, giving you a small nod, thanking you for winning, which made you beam.

-Poseidon- As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Poseidon no longer underestimated humans, especially after suffering such a humiliating defeat at the hands of ‘history’s greatest loser’ who had never won a fight before. Watching you fight was more proof of humanity’s strength as you were easily beating a god who was notoriously powerful. He leaned his cheek on his hand, a bored look on his face as he watched the match, a little curious about how strong you actually were. After your match he sought you out, wanting to ask for a match, wanting to test your skills against his own as he spoke, “I want to have a round with you.” You looked over and instantly grinned, seeing the sea god, “Oh~ so bold~ at least buy me dinner first.” His trident was instantly against your neck, a dark glare on his face, shadows covering everything except for his glaring eyes, as he hadn’t meant it in that way, but boy you were having fun, “Oooh~ so kinky I didn’t know that gods we- GURK!!” he grabbed you by your throat, going to end you here and now for your disrespectful and shameless flirting before you managed to wheeze out, while sending him a wink, “Harder~” he dropped you on your ass before turning and you were quick to scramble to your fee, chasing after him, “Wait don’t leave! You can’t tease me like that then leave me hanging!” Poseidon has no idea what he has started.

[silentglassbreak]

Please please , write something. Noah and Lily, she is designer and painter, they are working together on design for new album or merch, or something like that. She is redhead, have freckles, have a lot of tattoos, like to wearing skirts and sundresses. thank you! I love your work so so much 💔💔🥲

Bb you are my first ask! So, naturally, you have my undying love and affection for eternity!

Also, this physical description is giving me such inspiration. My best friend has a very similar physical appearance, so this will be fun!! (I just finished this and OMG this got away from me. I did not intend for this to be this long...I really got into this one. I hope you enjoy!)

So let’s get into this, shall we?

Rating: Mature (for language)

Warnings: None.

Into The Ocean

What did I think would happen when I moved to New York City? That I would get here, put a few paintings in some galleries, and suddenly I’d be making millions? How fucking insane am I?

My inner monologue continued as I catatonically stirred my bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes, moping heavily.

It had been six months since I moved here on a whim and a breath of a dream, thinking that with my ‘sparkling personality’, ‘adorably good looks’, and ‘raw talent’ I’d be a success so quick. These days, however, I spent a lot of time wishing I had stayed back home in Hartford, in my Mom’s two bedroom home, with my dog and my normalcy.

No, couldn’t be me. I had to go off with delusions of grandeur, and get myself a full time job as a desk girl at a law firm (which sucked), and had virtually no time to paint like I wanted. My studio apartment in Queens was big enough for me; a bed, a small table, and my paint supplies. I had a clothes rack for my small wardrobe, and a television on the wall adjacent to my bed. My minimal belongings were strewn haphazardly around with no real method. It felt much like my life - off kilter.

Frustrated, I decided to get off the bed, still holding my bowl, and stared at the cereal floating sadly in the milk. It looked so pathetic, the same as I felt.

My eyes wandered to the floor, then the edge of the bed, and eventually to the right of it, where the seven-foot by four-foot canvas sat.

I had that particular canvas since my first day here in New York. I swore that canvas would hold my best work. The piece that would change everything for me. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch it until I was certain I knew what it would be, and was ready.

But now? Staring at it? It mocked me. Day in, day out, it reminded me that I was just another struggling artist in this God forsaken jungle of a city made of concrete and exploitation. It laughed at me. It told me I had failed.

Without realizing it, my arm shot the bowl in my hand clear across the room, the milk and flakes splattering all over my bed, and eventually spraying the canvas. It left a sickly gray hue against the stark white vastness behind it, giving me a sense of anger. A sense of rage.

Climbing up onto my bed, my feet digging into the mattress while I reached for the shelf above it, grabbing random paints from the bowl they lived in. I hastily twisted the caps off of each, my breathing becoming frantic as I felt the sudden anxiety surge through me.

Once the tubes were open, I didn’t bother with my palette, or my brushes, I just squeezed the tubes, three in each hand, until they all sprayed like firehoses over the canvas, all in varying shades of blue and black. I hadn’t even realized I only grabbed blue and black paint.

Finally, after several minutes of raging, smearing paint across the canvas with no structure, using my palms and fingers, I stepped back. The anger and fire in my chest had dulled. I took a step back, and caught a glimpse of myself in my wall-length mirror across the room, and cringed.

Navy blue paint streaked my pale yellow shorts and faded UC t-shirt. I had a large glob of black paint on my face near my hairline, turning that spot of my red waves a midnight color. I needed a shower.

Now that I had thoroughly ruined my clothes, bed, walls, and canvas, I elected to head for the bathroom to clean myself up before the process of cleaning my apartment.

However, as I turned away from the canvas, I caught a sight of it in my peripheral, and something in my brain sparked. The blues and blacks, which turned dark grey when mixed. The lines and swirls they fell in. The non-uniformity of it all.

Waves.

Ocean.

Chaos.

And like that, I was climbing back up on my bed, ready to finish my painting.

It was after 5AM, and I only had three hours before I had to be back at work before I finished. When I did, I gasped at what I saw in front of me.

It was superb.

The waves crashed everywhere as the moon hung low in the sky, storm clouds covering. Amidst the maelstrom that was the ocean, there was one large, beautiful, impossibly sad octopus, thrashing in the waves, bleeding from the eyes.

The octopus was a deep gray, blending but also naturally contrasting the color of the waves, deep crimson blood running from its desperate eyes.

It was painful. It was despondent. It was powerful.

This was it.

-

Forty-two days had passed, and I was struggling to breathe as my hands trembled where they sat in my pockets, watching the droves of people walk by me. I did my best to smooth down the skirt of my lime-green sundress and tugged at the lapels of my denim jacket. My hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, leaving my waves to cascade down my back loosely, out of my face.

The sun above provided a warmth that was needed, but I had forgotten SPF today, which meant I would likely have a fresh batch of freckles on my cheeks to add to all the others. Today had to be the day. Something in my skin told me it did.

I had been to three art fairs, two open galleries, and a fine arts convention, trying to get something, anything sold.

Three days after I finished my piece, I was told that Burgen & Black no longer needed my position, so this was all I had right now. This, and the three hundred dollars my mom loaned me when I told her I was a little short on rent.

Rent wouldn’t be an issue soon if I didn’t sell anything, as cardboard boxes are real cheap.

This open fair was in Central Park, mid-September, so it was comfortable outside. The sun was getting low, causing a golden sky to reach overhead. I had been here all day, and was beginning to feel defeated.

I hadn’t sold as much as one print. One painting.

After staring at the crowds for another twenty-minutes, I finally decided to start packing up. It was a long bus ride back to Queens, and I would be too cold after dark.

Stuffing a handful of my prints into my portfolio bag, I huffed at myself, shaking my head.

Maybe it was time to go home. Maybe being an artist just wasn’t where I fit. Maybe I did need to reconsider college. It wasn’t too late. Twenty-six was an easy age, right?

“Is this all you?”

A sharp, deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making me spin on my heel, to see who was standing at my booth, scanning the pieces set up on the table.

The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He had at least a foot of height on me. I noticed next that he was covered everywhere in tattoos. The long expanse of his arms that led to the bit of his chest I could see behind his tank top was littered. It made my mouth dry.

His hair was short, hidden under a ball cap, sunglasses perched on his nose.

It took me a moment of staring before I realized he had asked me a question.

“Oh, uh,” I walked back to the table, standing directly in front of him. “yeah these are my works.”

He nodded, looking down at the table and flipping fingers through the prints.

“I like them. They’re different.”

I gave my best ‘please buy this’ smile, and nodded.

“Thank you. I just paint what I feel. It helps me deal.”

He smirked. “I get that.” His eyes came back up to my face. “Not the painting. I can’t do that. But having something to help you deal? I get that.”

That’s interesting. “Yeah? What do you use to deal?”

He flashed his teeth at me. “Music.”

Oh, brother. A musician. Any awe I was feeling was dissolving. I had yet to meet one that was worth his salt in anything, let alone carrying a tune.

“Ah, well, different animal, same results?” I tried not to sound disinterested.

“How much for the prints?”

I felt my lungs tighten. Money?!

“Ten, but it’s two for eighteen.”

He smirked. “What would a hundred get me?”

If I had not caught it quick enough, my eyes would have bugged out of my head. I stifled a cough to cover up my surprise.

“Uh,” I looked around. No one had purchased one hundred dollars of my work before. Not all at once. “Seven prints? Or four prints and a canvas or two? Depends on size.”

I pointed to the side of my table, there I had a cardboard box full of canvases. He glanced over, and turned so he could see better.

With a ‘hmph’, he squatted down and looked through them, nodding at some, disregarding others.

Eventually, he came back up and had two smaller canvases perched in his hands.

A painting I had done of ravens when I was sat in a cemetery one day for inspiration, and one of a dark room that held a single bright red wood chair. That had come to me in a dream.

“Okay, and I’ll take these four prints.” He handed me the laminated copies and gave me a sweet, polite smile.

“Sounds good, it’ll be a hundred even.”

“Can you take card?” My face fell. I couldn’t handle my rent and groceries, let alone a card reader.

He must have noticed, because he raised his eyebrows.

“Got Zelle?”

I nodded, pulling my phone out, a rush of relief washing over me. I gave him my phone number, and he pulled me up, transferring a cool one hundred dollars into my account. My stomach flipped. I was halfway to rent with my borrowed cash, and I still had two weeks before it was due.

It was the first shred of hope I had felt in a while.

“Noah!” A male voice called before a shorter man bounded up, and my eyes popped open.

Nick Folio, the drummer from Bad Omens, stood in front of my table, and I just about fell over with a stroke.

My mouth was hung open, in pure disbelief. It hadn’t even occurred to me who he had called for.

Folio held a plastic bag, having clearly grabbed something else from another table.

“There’s a guy selling homemade lures, dude. I bought six!” His teeth flashed in excitement, and my customer shook his head, smiling.

“You’re going to go broke buying those things.”

It was in that moment it dawned on me. That voice. Those tattoos. Those sinfully long fingers…

“Are you Noah Sebastian?” My words came out rushed, before I could stop them.

A sly grin fell over his lips. “Never heard of him.” He smoothly turned around, preparing to leave. “Thanks for the artwork.”

Folio gave me a small wave before following Noah. I was frozen.

I just met one half of Bad Omens. I had sold artwork to Noah Sebastian. He liked my art. I couldn’t breathe.

It took me a solid ten minutes before I could move, then packing my things and heading for the bus with my bag and box in arms, glancing around the park a few times for a familiar ball cap and forbidden fruit tattoo.

-

Nine days have passed since I unexpectedly met Noah Sebastian and Nick Folio, and it had been heavy on my mind until the stress of my rent became the reason I was laying awake at night.

With no other real resolve, my hunt for another nine-to-five not getting very far, I found myself trekking back to Central Park, ready to set up another table. I had fresh prints, and a dozen new canvasses to hopefully sell.

Now that we had crossed the threshold into October, the air was becoming more brisk. Today, I had elected to wear a floor-length forest green skirt with a white crop top, my black zip hoodie keeping my arms warm.

Today was more lively, giving me the opportunity to sell six prints and four canvasses by noon. I had made my rent, and was working on the power bill next. I had slightly raised my prices, given my circumstances, but I justified it with the need to survive.

Did I expect to run into him again? Not at all. In fact, I had convinced myself that my once in a lifetime chance to meet him had passed, and I should be excited about it. I was a Bad Omens fan, and had been since their second album. Their style of music was absolutely cathartic for me, giving me inspiration on more than one occasion while painting.

So, imagine my surprise, when I heard the same deep, smooth voice while I was reorganizing my canvasses.

“Back again?” This time, he wore a hoodie, beanie over his hair, and no sunglasses. His eyes were so big, so brown. I wanted to stare at them for hours.

I snorted. “Me? I could say the same to you?”

He leaned his hand on the table, smiling down at where I was crouched in front of my box.

“Selling a lot?”

Triumphantly grinning, I stood up, leaning my palms on the table. “Actually, yeah. It’s been weird. Central Park isn’t normally a hot spot for me, but today has been great!”

There was a flash of thirty-two stunning teeth, and I held myself upright.

“Maybe the word is spreading?”

“Maybe. Going to buy anything today?”

Raising a row, he scanned the table, tapping on one print. “This one is nice. How much?”

“Fifteen.”

His head snapped up, bewildered look on his face.

“It was ten last week?”

A sheepish blush crept over my face, and I tried to be sweet, brushing some of my loose hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, uh,” I couldn’t look right at him. “I had to raise the price a little. Living cost’s a bitch.” I shrugged.

He looked absolutely amused. “I see.” He pulled his phone out, and began tapping at something I couldn’t see. Afterwards, he picked up the print he chose, and gave me a two finger salute.

“Thanks a lot, Red.”

I smirked, feeling the phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it for now and approached a young couple who had walked over to my table. I did, however, watch as Noah left, making his way straight out of the park, not stopping at any other tables.

Finally home, I flopped down on my bed, and let my eyes fall closed for just a moment. I had called it early, feeling exuberant and deciding I deserved an afternoon to just relax, not painting, not trying to find a job, just snacking and watching Netflix.

Slipping my phone out of my pants pocket, I sat up, seeing some missed messages and scrolling through my notifications.

When I came to the last one, I nearly dropped my phone.

Zelle Notification: Noah Davis sent you $100.

My jaw dropped. He only bought one print. Why would he give me so much? He must have done it by mistake.

I bit my lip, bothered. I felt guilty, as if I had stolen the money from him. People were generous, but no one was that generous...right?

Staring at my Zelle account, I took a deep breath, and tapped on the transaction, pulling up the details. My finger hovered over Noah's name, wondering if I'd just get his email. After counting three calculated breaths, I finally tapped it, and a phone number flashed under the name.

Oh God, I had Noah Sebastian's phone number.

It was me being a good samaritan that caused me to pull up a text thread, and begin typing a message. The voice in the back of my head screamed at me that I could just sent eighty-five dollars back, and not invade his privacy by texting him.

But...

Me: Noah?

After hitting send, I physically tossed my phone on the mattress, and pulled my knees up to my chest, breathing erratic. I sat in absolute silence, waiting. Each passing second made my soul fall. What if it wasn't his personal cell he used for Zelle? He was a somewhat celebrity, after all. Would he really just casually give his number out to a random girl in the park?

My phone chimed, and I thought my carotid was going to blow out of my neck. Shaking fingers lifted the phone.

Noah: Who is this?

No confirmation of identity, but the number worked.

I went to type a response, telling him who I was, until I realized I never gave him my name. Sure, I had signed my art, but my signature was decently illegible.

Chewing my lip, I wracked my brain for the right response.

Me: Red.

The text bubbles had turned blue, and I saw he had received and read the message, but his type signal hadn't come up yet.

I was insane, I had to be.

Noah: LOL you mean Lily?

My blood ran cold.

Me: How do you know my name?

Noah: Well, much like my own, your Zelle tells me your first and last name.

I felt like such a moron. Of course it did.

Me: Oh, LOL yeah I didn't think of that.

I typed out another message, before I forgot.

Me: You sent me too much for that print!

Noah: No I didn't.

Me: You did. You sent me $100.

Me: I can send back $85.

Noah: Don't you dare.

This made me pause, already on the Zelle screen, his message flashing as a banner on top, making my fingers halt.

Me: Noah, I can't take that from you for one print.

Noah: ...because...?

Me: Because it's way too much! I appreciate it, but I'm not comfortable with that.

He waited a few minutes, his type bubble appearing and disappearing a few times.

Noah: So I'll buy something else from you, then.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: What would you like?

Noah: You have a portfolio online?

I sighed, embarrassed. My online presence was close to nonexistent. I had an Instagram, with all of five photos on it, and they were all four months old. I didn't have a website, not having the money to create one yet.

Me: I don't, I'm sorry.

Noah: Studio I can check out?

I stared at the screen, and laughed loudly. Oh, I've got a studio alright. Just not what he's thinking of.

Me: Not exactly. I'm a very small artist. I do all of my work out of my apartment.

Noah: Which is where?

My heart sunk. No way. Not letting him in my four hundred square foot, paint covered, disarrayed apartment.

Me: Queens.

I stayed vague.

Noah: Oh yeah, I'm over in Central Park West right now.

I sighed, relieved, and slightly disappointed.

Me: I can send you some pictures of my work? I'll just need a few to take them.

Noah: Can you just FaceTime? Seems faster.

How on Earth did we get here? I was going to FaceTime with a rockstar, and show him my paintings? This couldn't be real life.

Me: Sure. Call when you're ready.

I walked over to the corner of my studio that I kept my completed works in, a sheet thrown over the large canvas in an attempt protect the paint from the sun rays. I had yet to take that one anywhere yet. I hadn't found the right venue to sell.

After about five minutes, my phone began vibrating in my hand, and I looked down to see his name flashing.

My heart was beating so frantically, I was sure it would disconnect and come out of my throat.

I swiped the call open, and held the camera at the most flattering angle I could. Once the call connected, he sat on what appeared to be a staircase, somewhere outside, same beanie on his head from earlier, and was smiling into the camera.

"Hey!"

His enthusiasm surprised me, and I waved nervously, smiling back at him.

"Hi."

"Why do you look so uneasy? Are you being held hostage or something?"

My face fell, wildly confused by his comment. "What?"

His laugh echoed through the receiver, which made this weird jittery thing happen in my stomach.

"I'm just joking. You just look uncomfortable." He pulled his beanie down more, and I swallowed dryly, trying to giggle.

"Oh, yeah. No I'm good."

He sat back, elbow resting on the step behind him. "You sure?"

I felt like we weren't getting past this point. "Can I be honest?"

He didn't respond, just gestured for me to continue.

"I'm a fan. A big fan. So, yeah, I'm a little nervous."

His smile could've illuminated a small town.

"Oh yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. "Don't be. I'm just a guy."

Feeling rebellious, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. A guy who hundreds of thousands of girls would kill to FaceTime with."

This made him blush, so he looked down. "Ah, I don't know about that."

I decided to press my luck. "I do."

He furrowed his brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? So you're just that lucky, huh?"

This made me grin, in near disbelief. "Ah, the great Noah Sebastian. Cocky, huh?"

This made him laugh again, to which I joined.

"Nah. Like, I said, I'm just a guy. Really cool to know you're a fan, though." I nodded in response. "Ever seen us live?"

I shook my head. "Cost of living's a bitch. You think I can afford concert tickets?"

He shrugged. "Fair enough, dude."

"Anyways, you want me to show you the artwork?"

He agreed, and I flipped the camera around, scanning through the various pieces I had out in the corner. At his request, I would get closer to a piece, or pull it up to the camera. I watched as his eyes would get close to the phone, analyzing each canvas.

"I really like the desert painting." He was referring to a painting I had done that was slightly more abstract of a desert with random melted items such as longhorn skulls, cacti, and pieces of driftwood. They melted into the sand below.

"Okay. That would bring your total with the print earlier to fifty, since this one is bigger."

He nodded. "Do you have anything for fifty even?"

Biting my lip, I scanned my eyes, landing on a painting I had of a black cat, perched on the edge of a pond, cleaning it's paw, a skeletal hand reaching out of the water for it. The painting was done in nearly all neon colors, which was different for me.

"This one." I held it up in the camera.

"Oh dude, that's fucking sick." He pulled back from the camera. "I'll take it."

I chuckled. "Okay, do you want me to ship them?"

I flipped the camera back around, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "To Central Park West?"

I shrugged. "I could."

"Nah. I can get them from you. I don't live in New York and I leave back home for LA this weekend."

This made my chest sink only a little. "Right, I can ship them there if you want?"

He shook his head. "Let's meet up and I can get them?" I hesitated to respond, and I swear I saw a flash of concern on his face. "Unless you've got plans or something."

This made me smirk. "We didn't even say when? How would I know if I had plans?"

He huffed out a laugh, grabbing his beanie off of his head and smiling. "Sorry, you're right."

"When do you want to meet?"

"Tonight? I'm busy most of the week, but I'd really like to get my stuff soon."

Pondering this, I sat down on my bed, back to my art corner. "Where?"

"There's an Italian restaurant near my hotel. We can get dinner?"

I'm going to dinner with Noah fucking Sebastian?!

"Sure. Just text me the address?" He nodded in response. "What time?"

"Whatever time works best for you, Red."

I rolled my eyes. "You know my name, Noah."

A small wink, and he smiled. "I know, Lily. I just like your hair."

My face turned a deep shade of crimson, and I felt the urge to pull at my long red waves.

"Well, if that's the plan, I'm going to get ready. I have to leave a while before you to catch the subway."

I stood off the bed and went to turn, but he spoke and stopped me.

"Hey, what's that behind you?"

I turned, scanning. "What?"

"Under the sheet."

It occurred to me what he was referring to, and I waved it off.

"Just another piece."

"Can I see it?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I haven't shown anyone yet."

"So? I can be the first!" He seemed so excited, which made me giggle.

"It's an emotion piece. Not like the others."

He raised a brow. "Still not hearing why I can't see it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrugged. "Alright, but don't get too excited. It's not as clean and precise as my other work."

He just shrugged, and I reached over, pulling the sheet off the canvas, and flipped the camera.

I watched his eyes, scanning the screen over and over. He looked so enamored, I was confused. Was the connection bad?

"Noah? You okay?"

He leaned back, blinking. "Lily, that's fucking amazing!"

I laughed, stepping closer to the painting. "It's okay. It's a rage painting. Something I started in a fit, and kind of worked into what it is now."

"I can tell. You can feel the pain in the image. The colors are unbelievable."

"Oh, I don't know. It's okay."

"Okay? Red, that painting is unreal. How much do you want for it?"

His question caught me by surprise, nearly knocking me down. "What?"

"How much? I want it." He was so matter of fact, that the air rushed out of me.

"I haven't priced it. It's a big piece, bigger than anything else I've ever done."

"Okay, well tell me what you think, because I'll pay a lot for it."

My heart began stammering, words not forming on my lips. "Y-You really want it?"

"I don't just want it; I want to use it."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you at dinner. Just do me a favor? Think about a price? I really want that painting."

-

We agreed to meet at 7PM, but I was late. The subway had been packed, and I missed the first one. I didn't come jogging up to the front of the restaurant until fifteen after, seeing Noah stood outside, same outfit on as earlier today. I had to calm my insides at the sight.

I waved when he caught a glimpse of me, earning a smile in my direction.

"Hey, Red!"

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't letting that go.

"Hi, Noah."

When I approached, he put an arm out, and wrapped it around my shoulders casually. I had to take several deep breaths to remind myself that, like he said, he's just a guy.

An attractive guy. With tattoos. And the voice of an angel.

And this wasn't a date...right? This was a transaction...right?!

Trying to shake off the thoughts, I handed him the bag on my arm.

"Your goodies."

He smiled and took the bag, looking inside. "Nice. Thank you."

I followed him into the restaurant, which didn't look too terribly fancy. We were dressed casually, as were most people here. We were sat at a small table, a little dish with butter and rolls already in the middle.

We sat down, and began scanning the menus. The prices jumped out at me as relatively expensive, and I knew I would be taking my work out again tomorrow to make back the money I would be spending tonight.

Noah ordered a beer. I ordered water.

Noah ordered a steak with linguine on the side. I ordered a salad.

This caught his attention. "You don't want more than a salad and water?"

I hid behind my glass, shrugging. "Not the most hungry."

"Hm," He sat back and eyed me. "okay. For now."

The fuck does that mean?

"So have you given any more thought to how much you want for that painting?" He spoke before I could respond.

"I haven't. I really don't know, Noah." I shook my head, thinking. "Three hundred?"

His eyes widened. "No way, man. It's worth way more."

I was dumbstruck. "Are you asking me to charge you more?"

"Fuck yeah I am. That painting is worth ten grand, at the very least."

As badly as I wanted not to, and prayed I hadn't, I spit my water out onto the table, spraying my salad. My face immediately turned bright red, matching my hair.

"Excuse me?!"

He seemed very unfazed. "What?"

"Did you say ten grand? As in ten thousand?" He nodded. "Dollars?!"

He rolled his eyes. "No. Marshmallows."

Without thought, I picked up a cherry tomato and tossed it at him, bouncing it off of his hand on his plate. He glanced up at me, mouth open, amused.

"Did you just throw a tomato at me?"

I pressed my lips together in a very small, devious grin. "Maybe."

He picked up the tomato between two long fingers, considered it for a moment, and popped it in his mouth.

"I've never had that happen. And I'm a singer."

This made me laugh. "Oh God."

He wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Seriously, though, Red. You need to price your stuff fairly. Don't accept less than what you're worth."

I leaned back in my chair, considering this. "So, you want to pay me ten thousand for my painting?"

He shook his head. "I don't." My heart sunk for a second. "My label will, though."

My eyebrows shot up. "Pardon? The label?"

He was chewing some steak, and waited to swallow before he responded. I found myself staring at the apple on his throat bobbing.

"I want that painting to be our next album cover."

I felt my jaw physically hit the floor, break through the table and all. I was hallucinating.

"You...what?"

"I've been looking for months. I had been looking at photography until very recently, because I just wasn't finding anything that worked. I started scouting art fairs and galleries almost a year ago."

My eyes were blinking at an alarming rate.

"So, that's why you came to Central Park twice, then."

He smirked, lifting the beer bottle to his lips. "That's why I came to your table twice, yes."

I was pushing my salad around on the plate, not looking at him. "Ah, and here I was thinking you came back to see me." I looked up and gave him the cheekiest smile I could, joking.

Snorting, he flashed his teeth again. "Well, that too."

My stomach stuttered, and I set my fork down. I folded my arms on the table, looking straight at him.

"You're serious? You really want my painting for the album?"

He put his hands in his sweater pockets and leaned forward, so his face was hovering over the table.

"I'm dead serious." His tongue slipped over his bottom lip, catching my attention. "There's more to it than just buying it. We'd have to purchase rights from you, so you can't sell copies."

I raised a brow, now intrigued. "Oh?"

He leaned back again. "I don't want anyone else having our original piece that you did. We would, of course, credit you on the album, and maybe even ask you to do some additional work for the rest of the art?"

There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. "Rest of the art?"

"Yeah. The back of the album. The vinyl casing and variants. Merch, maybe?"

I couldn't breathe. It was so hot all of a sudden.

Noah could sense my panic. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to overwhelm you."

I gulped down half of my water at once. "No, I just..." I trailed off, staring at the tablecloth. "I've never had anyone want my artwork that bad."

He smiled. "Isn't the point to sell it? Success?"

"Well sure, but to go from selling prints and small canvasses in the parks to doing artwork for a huge band like Bad Omens? That's a bit of a step." I stared at him, trying to mask my anxiety, and failing horribly.

"I don't know if I'd call us huge." His smirk was coy, and I rolled my eyes.

"Wow. Cocky." I echoed my earlier statement, and this made him giggle like a child.

"Listen, think about it? In the meantime, can I ask a favor?" I didn't respond. "Don't sell any copies of that? Once you do, I can't use it."

I shrugged, and nodded, agreeing.

-

Two weeks had gone by, and I had not seen Noah since the night at the restaurant. I had re-covered the canvas, but the question replayed in my mind over and over.

Noah had decided to buy more pieces off of me, bringing my profits up to six hundred, which had my utilities paid this month and a small batch of groceries in the refrigerator. I agreed to ship them as soon as I could, but he kept telling me to take my time.

I knew what he really wanted to ask, but he held back.

I had thought about it over and over, trying hard to not let my bias toward Noah, or the bad, sway me.

This was a big step. Not owning my own art? Being pressured to make more that met a standard? Being under a contract? That wasn't what I got into this for. This wasn't why I became an artist and moved here. One of the best parts about creating something that you love, is that you get to do it freely. Once you have to do it, or do it a certain way, it becomes all too tedious. It's work now. I wasn't sure I'd be happy with it.

But on the flipside, there was a strange thrill at the idea. Someone wants my painting bad enough that they are willing to give me so much leeway financially, I can paint whenever I want. I'll get exposure. This could be what does it.

This painting could change everything.

And that was the point, right? I bought the canvas telling myself that this was the piece that changed it all. This was my ticket to success. And here it was, in front of me...

Ripping the sheet off of the canvas, I stared at it. The waves crashed over one another. The moon, bright, but somehow so ominous, shone through, bouncing off of the water in a way that made them look almost silver. The octopus, tentacles scattered amongst the waves, stared at me, bleeding eyes seeing through my soul.

"Is this what I'm supposed to do?" I asked the creature. I was met with silence. Loud, deafening, overwhelming silence.

"Fuck it."

I picked up my phone from the bed, bringing up my recent text thread with Noah, smiling at the meme he had sent earlier in the day.

I typed out a quick message, and sighed when I saw he read it quickly, and responded even quicker.

Me: I'm in.

Noah: Oh FUCK yeah!

-

Six months ago, I met Noah Sebastian for the first time, and he bought some of my art for a hundred dollars. Five and a half weeks ago, he bought more of my art for a hundred more dollars.

Five months ago exactly, his record label offered me twelve thousand dollars for my painting, and the rights to it, and offered me a contract to complete and provide artwork for all pieces surrounding their upcoming album, with an overall gross value of eighty-two thousand dollars to be paid up front, with the understanding that I would provide the artwork within one year of the contract signing.

Naturally, I was a mess.

Still living in my studio apartment, I had rented a painting studio six blocks from my apartment, and spent near all of my time there. I had completed the entire album artwork, maintaining the theme of the original piece, but adding in major twists in each installment.

So far, the label, the band, and mostly Noah, were pleased.

But today, I was stressed. There was one insert in the vinyl copy of the album that needed artwork. It needed a standalone piece, and I was drawing a vivid blank. I had been staring at the 3 foot by 2 foot canvas for two hours, paintbrush twirling between my paint-stained fingers. My old, ratted jeans were blotched with deep blue paint from my last attempt, which had been scrapped.

I was getting nowhere way too fast, and needed a break. I stood from my stool, and pulled my t-shirt off, standing in only my dark red sports bra to fight against the heat. I kept it warm in the studio to keep the paint from hardening in the palette.

Pacing back and forth, music pumping through my Bluetooth speaker, I sighed. I needed emotion. I needed something to throw at this damn thing, like before.

My phone quieted the music for a moment, and I snatched it to check.

Noah: In town this weekend. Want to get lunch?

As badly as I wanted to, I just couldn't.

Me: I can't. Trying to get this piece done.

Noah: Want me to bring you food? Can't paint on an empty stomach.

Considering this, I pursed my lips. He wasn't wrong.

I responded with the address to the studio.

Forty-five minutes later, and Noah was pushing his way into the small studio, bags of Chinese in his hands. I was sat on the stool, still staring at the blank canvas, twirling my brush, and didn't even look at him.

"Hey!" He set the bags down on the table on the far side of the room. "You haven't started yet?"

A hard, deep growl came out of me, and I chucked my brush at the ground, hearing it clatter. I stood, fingers gripping my hair at the root.

He threw his hands up. "Woah, it's okay! I wasn't trying to say anything to upset you."

I took a deep breath, letting go of my mop of hair. "You didn't. I'm just drawing such a fucking blank! I can't figure out what to paint for this insert!"

He tightened his lips, putting his hands in his jean pockets.

"What usually helps?"

"Anger! And I've got plenty! But I've still got fucking nothing!" My foot kicked the stool, sliding it several feel away.

He took a step forward, toward me, hands coming out in front of him.

"Okay, so anger isn't working. Any other emotions we can use?"

I raised an eyebrow, halting my pacing. "What do you mean?" My words were sharp, and he cracked an amused smile.

"You're a real fireball, clearly, Red. But, do you have other emotions we can channel?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Of course I have other emotions."

"Like?"

Suddenly feeling cornered, I squeezed my eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"I don't know." I looked up at him. "Sadness? Depression?"

He snickered. "Why all negative emotions?"

"What?"

"Why not joy? Enthusiasm? Excitement?" He looked so genuine, it almost hurt my heart, because I was so angry and it wasn't his fault.

I paced over to the stool, coming down with a screech against the floor. "Sorry." I confessed. "This is just hard to do under pressure, you know?"

He nodded, standing next to me, a soft hand coming down on my mid-back, rubbing slow circles on my bare skin.

"I get it. More than most, I think." I looked up at him. "But if what you're used to isn't working, then we have to do something different."

I scrubbed a hand over my face, and smiled weakly. "How?"

He pursed his lips, and his hand came under my arm, pulling me up from the stool. "Grab your brush."

Opting for a fresh one, I held it in front of me, and waited for further instruction.

He smiled, and put both hands on my shoulders, pulling me toward the easel and canvas. I followed absently, trying not to focus on my skin tingling where he was touching me.

"Okay," He moved behind me, pushing me closer to the canvas. "pick a color."

I chuckled, and leaned over to the palette to my right, picking up a deep navy on my brush.

Satisfied, he squeezed my biceps for a second before letting his hands fall away.

"Now, close your eyes."

I turned my head to look at him skeptically, but his eyes pleaded with me, so I obeyed, holding my loaded brush and letting my lids fall closed.

The room fell impossibly quiet, and I could feel his presence heavy behind me. The sensation brought goosebumps to my warm skin.

I was nearly startled when I felt his fingers brush my thick hair over my shoulder, and his breath came across my ear.

"Now," His voice was baritone, so raspy and so close to me. "I want you to picture what you're feeling at this very moment."

Feeling? What is feeling? Who am I ?

"Picture your emotions. Picture them as colors. Objects. Lights." He let out a deep exhale that washed over my neck, making me shiver.

"What if I can't?" My voice was small.

A large, strong hand grasped my right hip, pulling me to lean slightly backward, pressing against the front of his body.

"You can. I know you can."

The fingers of his other and were trailing up my hip, tracing patters over the tattoos on my ribcage.

"You know how to do this, Lily. Just see what you feel."

I wanted to push this. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

Eyes still closed, I let my lips turn up ever so slightly. "What if I can't feel enough, yet?"

His chest, pressed against my back, trembled with quiet laughter, "No? You need more stimulation?"

Jesus this guy's is going to murder me.

"Maybe." I smiled slyly.

His lips ghosted over the side of my neck just under my ear, his hand on my hip slipping around the front of my waist and pulling me even closer.

"What if I," His lips trailed up my skin, grazing the flesh so gently. "give you," Up to my chin. My breath was shaking. "something to feel?"

His lips were testing mine, tip of his nose bumping my own.

The lowest, most whispered moan escaped my lips before he dipped even lower, gently pressing his lips against mine. I molded to him, body encased by his arms, lips slotting into place against his, eyes rolling back behind my lids.

The feeling exploded out of me, pouring into his mouth, hands reaching up to grip his hair.

We stood there, mouths fighting for dominance, before I pulled away, pushing his hands off of me frantically, and nearly jumped toward the canvas.

I heard him breathing heavily behind me, a low chuckle erupting from him.

"I guess it worked?"

I stopped my brush strokes, turning my head and letting my hair flip over my shoulder.

"For now. Might need more stimulation later."

[echoing--stars]

Hey Stars! I adore your writing❤️

For a prompt how about Time and Warriors, reunion/trust? I can’t stop thinking about Wars realizing that the Little Link he fought the war with grew up to be Time,,, I feel like it’s bittersweet for both of them 🥲❤️

Aww, thank you! I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my little fics!

I'm going to apologize right away that this got real angsty/whumpy in the first part. (It made me sad enough that it took me two days to write XD ). I promise it gets better though! There's implied major injuries that aren't described in detail, and some descriptions of blood. But he gets better!

When thinking about Time being a part of the WoE, I've had this idea of Warriors wanting to make Sprite (the name I use for Time in the WoE in this) proud, and Sprite wanting to grow up to be like Warriors. But neither of them realize this at the time.

(If you read this and would like to request a short snippet, see this post!)

Time patted Warriors’ cheek, trying to get his attention and keep him awake. His breathing was all too shallow and broken up by the occasional cough, which left blood dribbling from the corner of his lips. Warriors’ head lolled to the side, but Time put his other hand on Warriors’ cheek to hold him steady. “Captain, you need to stay awake. Just a little longer, okay? The others are on their way.” Warriors mumbled something, but Time couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. Time swallowed, tamping down the urge to look behind him. Instead, he kept his focus on Warriors, who now had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Do.. do you…” “Hush, save your strength.” Warriors head tipped back, and he looked up to the sky. Time wasn’t sure what exactly he was seeing. The tears dripping down his face mixed with the blood coming from the corner of his lips. Time wished he could wipe it away, make the pain go away. “...think… I… made him proud?” “Captain.” Time brushed the hair away from Warriors’ forehead. His eyes fluttered. “You’ve done amazing things, you’ve done so much good. Anyone would be proud.” Warriors lips tipped up in a crooked smile, but he coughed on his next breath. “That’s all I… wanted. He left before… I could never…” Warriors struggled to get the words out between wheezing breaths. Time glanced over his shoulder. He could no longer hear the sounds of the battle. The others should come looking any moment now. “Who?” But Warriors eyes had fallen shut. Time tapped on his cheek, and Warriors eyelids fluttered again. “Link, come on. Stay awake. Help is coming.” The promise felt hollow, even if he knew the others would be looking for them. “S…s…prite.” Time froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. Decades, even. Warriors went limp, and Time barely managed to stop him from falling over. He cursed, and wrapped his arms around Warriors shoulders and underneath his knees. It was dangerous to move him, but at this point, he couldn’t wait for the others to find them. Time hurried in the direction he’d last heard the others in. It was only a minute or so later when he heard a shout and then the sound of the others coming towards them. Sky was already opening a bottle with a fairy by the time Time kneeled and set Warriors back on the ground. The fairy circled around Warriors, and immediately color returned to his face and his breathing evened out. He remained unconscious, but that was to be expected. Even magical healing took a lot of energy, so he would likely sleep for a while.

___

They decided to camp out for a few days. Everyone could use the rest, especially Warriors, after the last battle. Time waited a while before catching Warriors alone. “Captain?” Warriors looked up from where he was fixing a tear in one of his tunics. He gestured to the space beside him, and Time sat down. Time had debated on how to start this conversation, but in the end, he decided to just go for it. “Do you remember what happened after you were injured?” Warriors paused his work, and then set it aside with a sigh. “Not much.” “You mentioned a… Sprite?” Warriors’ face fell, and he tapped on his thigh. Time thought he recognized the pattern as one of the few songs the captain knew on the ocarina back in the war. He finally glanced over at Time, barely meeting his eyes. “He was another hero I fought alongside in the war. He was my little brother, and way too young to be there. I… He was sent home before I could say goodbye.” Time’s heart clenched. It had been so long since he’d stepped back through the portal after the War of Eras. When Lana had told him there was no time to say goodbye. Warriors — Link, at that time — had been recovering in the medic’s tent, slipping in and out of consciousness after suffering injuries in his final battle with Ganon. Time had never gotten to say goodbye either. He blinked slowly, then reached for his bag. He wasn’t sure if Warriors would believe him if he just told him the truth. But he had enough proof in his bag. “Link, I’m sorry I never told you this before.” He grabbed the first mask from his bag. “I thought… well, I don’t really know what I was thinking.” He passed the keaton mask over to Warriors. Warriors held it gingerly. Time couldn’t read the expression on his face. “When I was sent home, only minutes had passed in my original time. For the longest time, I told myself it was a dream. I didn’t believe it, not really. But it was easier that way.” Next, he pulled out the Ocarina of Time. The actual relic, though it no longer held the blessing of the Goddess of Time. “I… I know I was a brat. I know I caused trouble. But I need you to know that you are a huge part of who I am today. I was too old for the body I was in, but even still, I knew that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like you. You were my hero, Link. You still are.” When Warriors looked up, there were tears streaming down his face. For a moment, Time thought he’d done something wrong, but then Warriors set the mask and ocarina down as carefully as he’d held them and leaned over to wrap his arms around Time. Time pulled him closer until Warriors nearly fell over, and they both laughed, but neither moved to pull away. “You grew up to be a far better man than I’ve ever been, Sprite.” “Don’t talk like that, Link. I’m so, so proud of you.”

[totally-not-a-cannibal-hannibal]

To My Taste

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part 2: To Be Misunderstood

Part 1: Small Potatoes

⚠️Warnings⚠️ This part has the start of rape. It never gets to that point but it gets close so please don't read this part if you think that might even remotely be triggering. Please take care of yourself, this stupid fanfic is not worth your mental health. I'll leave a summary at the end if you still want the spark notes on what happened in the story. The whole first part is littered with violence against a woman so beware. My intention is not to glorify this kind of attack and I try my best to not be too flowery in writing the attack for that purpose. Reader discretion is advised.

It's kinda long because I couldn't end on a depressing note. 🥲

        My mind assumed the worst, how could you not. I ran out of my room without thinking and scanned the dark surroundings. I didn't see anyone. The street light barely lit up a spot on the floor where some feathers laid. The brilliant peach color seemed to shine against the darkness of the room. I was so distracted by the thought my love birds might be dead I had forgotten about the potential intruder.

          Just as I came back to my senses I was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground onto my back. I could make out a large frame larger than any man I knew. He jumped down on top of me putting his face into view. He had no mask, he intended on killing me. I screamed and tried to pull my legs out from under him. 

       In a flash I saw the glint of a large knife in the limited light of the room. He thrusted it down into my shoulder. I felt like the tip of the weapon snagged on my cheap vinyl floor of my kitchen. I had so much adrenaline rushing through my body I couldn't even scream. 

       It was the killer, I knew what was coming next. Choking, biting, rape. He leaned down on me once he was sure my shoulder was stuck. His eyes were crazed, like a dog left in the heat for too long. He sounded like one as well. He grunted as he struggled to tear my underwear. My free hand tried to claw at his hands desperately, finally I was able to scream. I screamed for my life, it sounded like the stock scream for a low budget horror movie. My sudden screaming must have startled him or just pissed him off because he yelled back as he punched me in the face. I could taste blood and my vision got blurry but I knew I had to do something, he was making progress on my underwear. 

        The only thing I could see clearly was his face so I did the only thing I could. I took my thumb and jammed it into his eye. My nail slipped past the eyeball and bent around the corner of his orbital bone. He let out an animalistic scream, louder than my own even. He pulled his upper body off of me and my thumb was released from his eye.

         He grabbed the knife and ripped it from my shoulder and held it in the air. He slammed it down at my face, instinct took over and I curled to the side. With most of his weight on my legs my upper body could move freely. He struggled to pull the knife from the concrete below the vinyl. Grunting like an ape he finally freed it. Thanks to the time it brought me I was able to get a leg free from his hips and my other slipped out shortly after. He held his eye with one hand and slashed at me frantically with the other.

       I wasn't sure how but I managed to get to my feet. Something he was much slower at, he was still on his knees. I blindly grabbed the first thing my hand touched on my counter. I swung around the cast iron skillet I had borrowed from my landlady. In one sweep I bashed it against his skull as hard as I could. He fell like a sack of dirt. I jumped over him and ran to my bedroom. I slammed my door and locked it. Using all the force I had left in me I pushed the dresser in front of the door and grabbed for my phone. Something I had wished I'd done before I left my room to begin with. Dialing 911 I put the phone on speaker so I could continue to barricade my room. 

       "911 what's your emergency"

       "A man has broken into my house, he attacked me." I was in the middle of giving her my address and name when there was a bang at my door. Letting out a scream I take the phone with me to the bathroom. In the harsh light of the white bulbs I could see how much blood had poured down my shoulders and lip. I held up my hand and realized I had his blood on my thumb. No matter what happened we'd have DNA on him at least. The operator stayed on my phone with me.

        The banging stopped not long after he heard me on the phone. I knew he was gone but there was almost nothing in the world that was going to get me out of my bathroom closet. After what felt like hours I heard sirens outside. 

         It was all a blur. So many people in my house all at once. I was put in a blanket and walked through the place I was just attacked. He poured bleach on the floor, likely to destroy any DNA that was left of his from his blood. Holding my blood covered thumb out like some kind of hitchhiker they walked me to an ambulance. I was looking all over for my birds. I knew they were not what was important but it's all I could think about. Ricky was dead on the floor, neck snapped. I couldn't find Lucy. 

       "My bird, call for her! Maybe she flew out. Her name is Lucy. Please check the trees!" I begged, pointing to the tree line. An officer nodded as he helped me in the back of the ambulance. I had been crying the whole time, of course I had but for some reason I was now sobbing over my birds, one dead the other lost. 

        I don't have any memory of the ride to the hospital. Once inside I still couldn't get a second alone. Doctors and cops all had so many questions. Most of which I wasn't ready to answer. 

      A nurse almost cleaned off my thumb and I thought I might hit her. The cops came in and took all they could from my thumb and nails. They took my clothes. As soon as they left, my hospital room door was flung open by Jack. He asked me all the same questions but he was slower, giving me time to answer all I could. I still couldn't give him all the answers he needed.

       Will stood in the doorway like he was scared to come in. Jack squeezed past him to go make a few calls. 

       "I'm sorry this happened." He said softly. He didn't budge from his spot. His hands shoved in his coat pockets. He was still in his pajamas. Did he jump out of bed and drive all the way over? He just looked at me like he felt guilty. Seeing that expression on his face made me want to cry more.

       Without warning he was pushed against the doorframe as Beverly ran in. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me in the hospital bed. 

        "Fuck prison, when we get this guy I'm gonna kill him." She said as she came over and gave me a hug. She made me chuckle.

       "Let me get the first shot." I say as she fixed the collar of my gown. She smiles at me. "Did they find my bird?" She shook her head no while pulling the thin hospital blanket higher on me. There was something she was thinking and didn't want to say. "Bev it's all going to heal. He didn't even get my underwear off, It's alright." I say with a small grin but I could feel the tears starting to fall. We hugged till a doctor came in to replace some bandages. 

       Will always stayed just outside the room or in the doorway. Jack had called Dr. Lecter, he needed as many members of the team he could get to find this guy but he didn't want to leave me alone with strangers. I was thankful but Dr. Lecter was one step up from a stranger. He and I sat in the white and blue hospital room alone together. We didn't speak too much. He told me it was alright if I didn't want to. It wasn't that I didn't want to, some parts I just couldn't recall, it had only been 12 hours. I knew memory loss after trauma was normal but I needed to try and remember as much as possible to tell the team. 

        "He smelt like cigarettes, not the cheap kind. I didn't smell alcohol on his breath." I said as I looked up at the wall mounted TV. Dr. Lecter wrote it down. Slowly things would come back to me. Unfortunately that led to flashbacks and panic attacks.

         A few days passed and I was finally able to be released from the hospital. Jack wanted me to stay longer but the cleaner they used smelt like the bleach he poured all over my kitchen so I was eager to leave. 

          As odd as it sounded I was excited to get home. I just wanted to be with my things and see if Lucy would come home if she heard me calling. 

         Beverly and Will were over all day and at night Jack had local police stay outside in squad cars. This thing wasn't the type of thing you just get over but I was doing pretty good all things considered. Zeller and Price had taken what evidence they could from my house and cleaned up the best they knew how. Someone even hooked up my cable. 

           The vinyl floor in my kitchen had been pulled up so just concrete was left. They took the skillet that I needed to return to the landlady. She'd understand, she brought over a blackberry cobbler in hopes I'd tell her about what all happened. We were both incredibly nosy people so I knew what a mystery was doing to her. I indulged her the best I could, I didn't want to scare her too badly so I was very, very sparing with the details. Once she left I tucked into the cobbler.

       There was a knock at my door that made my heart leap from my chest. 

       "It's me Jack, can I come in, Lydia?" I checked the window just to make sure before opening the door. Once I open the door he lets himself in and sits down at my table.

        "You got the guy?" I asked, smiling as I take a seat as well. 

         "No not yet, I actually came on personal business. I was speaking with Dr. Lecter and he thinks it would help you to attend therapy, with him if you prefer or with an unaffiliated colleague of his. I want you to have a clear head and be happy because I care about you but also so you can get back to work. You can't work on your own case of course but we have others. I need you, late or not." He said as he smiled across the table at me. He probably wasn't wrong. Talking about stuff tends to help me. Dr. Lecter was great with me in the hospital. Maybe it was a good idea.

       "Yeah that sounds good actually. I'll start to see him." Jack breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. He looked behind me at my kitchen floor. 

         "Did those neanderthals with beakers leave you without any flooring?" He asked as he stood up and kicked at the exposed concrete. Jack seemed like what I imagined a dad was like. Caring but strict and just couldn't leave your house without trying to fix something. 

       "Yeah it's fine I was just going to have the guys at the hardware store put more in." I say laughing at his name calling. 

       "No, I know a guy, he and his sons did my whole house, let me do this for you." He said as he had his phone out and was already dialing. There was no stopping him at this point. He sets a time for them to come and put in new flooring. 

       He gave me Dr. Lecter's office number to set an appointment up. I liked seeing such a soft Jack, he had such a kind voice when he wasn't yelling. He left shortly after I set an appointment for tomorrow morning. 

        That night I couldn't sleep. I had to lock my bedroom door, I finally fell asleep as I heard the birds outside start to sing. I slept through my first and second alarm. Finally the 3rd one got me up. I had to rush around, I was super late.

       The drive to Dr. Lecter's office was pretty long and I was at least half an hour behind schedule. I ran into the building but froze when I saw Dr. Lecter talking to his secretary. 

        "There you are, I was starting to think you changed your mind." He said with a soft smile. I felt horrible about wasting his time. 

         "I'm so sorry I didn't hear my alarm go off." 

       "That's quite all right. You are here now, that's what's important." He leaned down and whispered something to his secretary who nodded at him. "Come in, please." He said as he held open the large wooden doors to his office. 

         I walked in quickly trying not to take up any more time than was necessary. The office was nothing short of immaculate. I had never been inside a room like it. I did my best not to gawk at how extravagant and lavish it was.

         "Please take a seat." He said as he closed the doors. I sit down in the closet chair. The notepad on the table next to me clued me into the fact this was his seat. 

          "Shit sorry" I curse under my breath as I stand up and move to the identical chair across from the it. He grins and nods.

          "That's alright you may have that chair if you prefer." He said as he picked up his notepad. 

       "No no this one's perfect." I insist. He takes his normal seat and crosses his leg getting comfortable. 

      "You look well, how did you sleep?"

      "Oh um not great, that's kinda part of the reason I slept through my alarms."

      "I see, any reason in particular you had trouble sleeping?" He asked as he pulled the cap off his pen. 

       "You know why." I say with a small smile as I look away from him. Picking at my nails I do my best not to think about the man. 

       "I know, I'd like to hear it in your words." His voice was soft, gentle like he was coaxing me. 

       "I was afraid the man would come back, I got a new gun but he took the last one. What would stop him from taking this one?"

       "That is perfectly understandable, the mind is rewired by trauma, previously innocuous activities can start to feel like real dangers to us. Do you have any plans to move?" 

        "Definitely not, it's my house, the rent is low, it's a good neighborhood. The house doesn't remind me of him, it's just the idea of sleeping and not being able to get away." I shift in my seat getting a little uncomfortable dwelling on the incident. He watched me closely and must have been able to pick up on how uneasy I was getting. 

       "You're from the area, yes?" He asks as he closes his notepad and folds his hands in his lap. 

       "Yeah southern Virginia, took me a bit to lose the accent when I moved north." 

         "Was losing your accent a concerted effort or did you lose it naturally?" 

         "It was purposeful, I went to college and my professors had a hard time understanding me. I got tired of being misunderstood. It slips out sometimes though. Where is your accent from? I don't think I can place it." I say with a grin.

        "That's very adaptable of you when I first moved here I too had a problem with people understanding me. It never feels good to be misunderstood. And to answer your question I am from Lithuania, it can be a difficult accent for Americans to place." He seemed happy to speak about his home country so I questioned a bit more. About his childhood, when he moved to the US, what Lithuania was like. He answered them all as quickly as possible. I started to get the feeling maybe he wasn't as comfortable with it as he was trying to portray. 

       "Why don't we get back to you Agent Trew. " He gently redirects the conversation. 

        "Oh please call me Lydia." 

        "Of course Lydia, please tell me about your childhood, I couldn't help but to notice there was no paternal medical history filled out." I was surprised by his request, I wasn't sensitive about my fatherlessness, it was just sudden. 

        "My mom says he was a one night stand, met him at a bar. He liked cheap whisky and drove a blue pickup. None of that really fits into a parent medical history sheet." I say with a laugh trying to make light of what is normally an awkward conversation. 

       "Your mom raised you by herself? Strong woman, I can tell you must have been a handful as a child."

        "Oh you have no idea I was a little monster. I was tearing up the house every other day and trying to bring home wild animals. I'm surprised my mom didn't sell me to the zoo." He seemed to get a bit of amusement out of the thought. We spoke very casually for a while about life, the weather, and hobbies. 

          He checked his watch and our hour was up. I was looking through my phone calendar for the best day to schedule another appointment while he gathered his notes.

         "I am having a small dinner party tomorrow night. Jack and his wife were invited but they had to cancel. I'm afraid Will and I are hardly a party by ourselves but would you be interested in joining us for dinner at my home?" I had heard of his dinner parties before, though it was a bit unexpected.

          "Oh Dr. Lecter I appreciate it but I'm a vegetarian. Will had told me how you enjoy your meat alot, which is great but I personally don't eat it. It's a texture issue not a moral one." I normally didn't feel the need to mention my dietary habits but he was kind enough to invite me. He was owed an explanation. 

          He smiled and licked his bottom lip slightly. It was like he was trying not to chuckle. He nodded understandingly. 

         "I am capable of making you a meatless meal, I won't force you to eat something you don't like." 

         "I couldn't put you out like that, making two separate meals is alot of work."

       "I enjoy cooking, the challenge of making something delicious for you would be part of the fun for me. It is hardly a dinner party with just two people." He says 

       "Well how could I say no to trying some of your famous cooking? I'd be delighted to join you guys." 

         He seemed happy I agreed but he was always so hard to read, I just have to hope he was glad and didn't feel burdened. We said our goodbyes and I made another appointment for a few days away, he said the sooner the better so I was sure not to space the meetings out too far.  

       A dinner party sounded like a good time but also a bit intimidating. The last dinner party I went to was with my dolls as a little girl so dinner with such a formal man like Dr. Lecter sounded a little daunting. At least Will would be there, I knew he wasn't big into fancy stuff and wasn't the best in social situations so as long as I minded my manners better then he did I'd be fine.

          

  Spark Notes:

♡Lydia is attacked so Jack asks her to start seeing Hannibal.

♡She is invited to have dinner at Hannibal's

♡It is learned she is fatherless, that she has trained herself to not have a southern accent because it was different to understand, and finally that she is a vegetarian.

[twothpaste]

three questions- 1, how do you headcanon Ness chose his name? 2. what other names was he considering before he settled on Ness, if he was considering other names? and 3. if the other intermission characters could dye their hair, what would they dye it? (for Kuma feel free to answer with other colors she’s dyed/considered dying her hair before)

i actually don't have much of an origin story for ness' name, aside from knowing was a longtime childhood nickname before he knew what it meant to be "trans," and before he settled on it as a replacement for his deadname (whatever that might be, none of my business). he might've straight up nicknamed himself after his favorite video game console, giving his name the same origin it has in reality - i think that'd be funny. his dad's got a big nintendo collection, and they used to play video games together a lot - his dad could've even been the one who first started calling him that 🥲. a little kid insisting upon being called by a gender-neutral nickname, which emerged from a "tomboyish" hobby, from like age six onward?? i feel like that tracks.

i haven't drawn her in color yet, but my take on tracy has black hair that she bleaches blonde. as a teen she starts selectively bleaching streaks/portions of it, instead of doin' it all the way, 'cause she thinks it looks cool. poo wishes he could dye his hair literally any color at all, but if he does his family will have his head. he fantasizes about going off on months-long international archaeological surveys once he's graduated, with a glorious mane of green hair, just to live a little. one time lucas agreed to let kuma dye a little (small) (tiny) cyan streak into his hair. he thought it was sort of fun, but perhaps a bit intense for his tastes. people noticed him, he got a lot of compliments, aw jeez, that's super overwhelming for a big pile of oatmeal like lucas, y'know 😞. i think the older duster gets, the more eccentric he becomes - dude's probably only a few years away from turning his graying balding locks bright firetruck red while he's still got the chance. imagining his little goat scruff beard in all the colors of the rainbow 🌈

[trialsofdragons]

— Summary: [♧Request♧]

— Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Servant!Reader

— Genre: Fluff♡

A/N: If you haven't already noticed, this is my first time ever making a fic, so i'm sorry if it's weird or messy? @loves1ckgirl, you can murder me in the comments for how long this took, i get it🥲 But I realy do hope ya'll enjoy it!

– [What you need to know]: h/c - hair color,, e/c - eye color,, Y/N - Your name.

Lucerys Velaryon. The second born son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the Lord and heir to the throne of Drift mark. Lucerys had never met you in his life. He didn't even know that you existed. But still you found yourself staring at him from the sidelines, making it horribly obvious, as it was like hearts where forming in your eyes. But you knew it would never work. You where a maid. A mere servant. Or, as others would say, a low born. Hiding was just what you did, but a sweet thing you where. Helping if you could, and always having a sweet smile plastered on your face. Although it was required as a maid that you did always keep your emotions in check. But still you wished you could have some kind of interaction with the prince. And you would, just, not as you had expected.

It was quite a buisy day in the castle, with servants running around, baking, cleaning and all that stuff that needed to be done. You where walking down one of the halls, a plate of small cakes in your hands. You where walking quickly but carefully, as to not spill anything. You had gotten the task of bringing cakes to Princess Rhaenyra herself, as she had requested it. Why you had been picked, you didn't know.

What you did know, was that you where stressing quite a lot. Just the mere thought of being late or something else that would make the princess mad made you almost crumble at the thought. Although the princess was rumored to be quite generous. You still hurried anyway, and kept a small eye on the soft lemon cakes on the plate.

Lucerys, in the mean time, was walking around the castle halls, looking quite tired. He had a buisy day to say the least, and he had just ended the usual hard training session with Jacerys, his brother when he got the message that his mother wanted to have some words with him. He was massaging his wrist, where there was a newly applied bandage because Jace had managed to cut him. He muttered some heated words under his breath as he walked down the empty hall. But the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, his hand half up in his curly brown hair, massaging his scalp as he hissed. Had he just hit the wall or something? He couldn't have. "Seven hells" He muttered. He was clumsy but he wasn't that clumsy. But as he opened his eyes and expected to face the wall, he instead faced a girl, probably about his age, her hand against her forhead, holding it while grimacing slightly. If it had been someone else, like his older brother, Lucerys would have been mad to say the least, but instead he just found himself staring at you. A sweet looking girl, with beautiful h/c collored hair, and sweet e/c eyes. His cheeks grew hot, and he completely ignored the cakes that was splattered everywhere. He quickly got up and helped you to your feet. "Are you alright miss?".

This persons question caught you of guard, and you where about to reply when you looked up at them, to find yourself staring at Lucerys Velaryon himself. You almost choked, and your breath hitched. Well, so much for a good first impression. "Y-Your Grace!" You managed to say out loud, to Lucerys surprise. "I-I am so sorry, my prince!" You hurriedly bowed your head.

"It's alright, I see you where in a rush?" He said said. "Supposedly with these?" He questioned, finally noticing the yellow iced cakes on the floor.

"I-uh, yes.." You muttered, looking down at the floor embarassed. To your surprise, Lucerys started chuckling, holding his wounded hand tightly in his well hand.

Having heard all the comotion, Princess Rhaenyra came out of her room some few feet away from the two, and quickly rushed over to them. "What happened here?" She questioned strictly, her hands on her hips with a stern look.

You looked up at her worriedly, trying to explain, when Lucerys cut you to it. "It was my fault mother. I wasn't looking where i was going." He grinned sheepishly. Had he just saved you? You felt your cheeks grow hot, just by thinking of it.

You looked at him, and then at Rhaenyra. But you decided to quickly bow instead of just standing there and looking stupid. "I apologise your Grace. I too, wasn't exactley looking where I was going" you said, looking down at your feet.

To your surprise, yet again, Rhaenyra smiled at you in a loving kind of way. "Don't worry dear, my son has his head in the clouds sometimes" she chuckled, and Lucerys shot up his head in surprise and blushed out of embarassment.

"Don't worry, i'll have maids clean it up!" Rhaenyra smiled warmly. "In the mean time, why don't you two join me?"

After that, Lucerys noticed you more. Wether it was cleaning the halls or rooms, or carrying cakes, sweets or food he would always notice you. At some point he started looking for you. Getting exited if he ever saw you, and sending a quick smile your way. You would also engage in some small talk with the boy, and once in a while you would secretly sneak off with two swords and train, with you winning everytime. And everytime you both would fall to the floor and laugh together.

You had been thinking hard and long about these things, your feelings only growing stronger. But it would never work. You were constantly reminded you where nothing more but a servant, and he a prince. Another day you had found yourself cleaning a room you had not gotten a name on. It didn't bother you as much as you thought it would, because you where to buisy in your own thoughts. Well, until you heard a knock, and then the door sliding open. You quickly turned around to find Lucerys in the doorway, smirking.

"Your Grace what are you doing here?" You said rather sternly. Lucerys chuckled. "This is my room Miss Y/N" Your stern look changed to a confused and then a surprised expresion. He stopped leaning against the door frame and walked up to you. He kept a small distance and sat down on his bed. He admired you as you cleaned a dresser. He admired your hair, your clothes, your eyes. Oh He couldn't stop thinking about your eyes. They where his favorite thing about you. And your personality of course but from your apearance it had to be the eyes. He was completely lost in you, and you had gotten a little uncomfortable, so you turned around and couldn't help but smile at him.

He stood up suddenly, making you jump. He walked over to you and took both your arms in his. Stared at you longingly, before letting his hands slide down to your waist. "C-Can i ask you something?" He mumbled shyly. You looked up at him, your face looking like a tomato at this point. You nodded. "Can i-...Can I kiss you?" He whispered, and your breath hitched. This was what you wanted. It had been for a long time, yet you couldn't find yourself to do it. It was against any rule. He was a prince, a heir of something, and you where a lowborn, who had barely got this job as a maid. But still you nodded. For some reason, even though bad thoughts clouded your mind, you nodded. And he kissed you.

It was nothing like you had expected. Both of you where pretty unexperienced, but if you had to be honest you loved it. His lips was soft and slightly chapped against yours, and when you pulled away you just wanted more. He smiled brightly at you, his cheeks red. It was the cutest thing you had seen.

Your hands went up and caressed his cheeks as he smiled at you. This was all against the rules, but honestly you'd go against the rules a thousand times more if it was with Lucerys.

[cruelfeline]

Hm. I wonder if Susurrus' initial creation was that sacrifice heavy, or if the ritual in the DLC was simply the level of 'voltage' required to 'jump-start' him back into working order. I only question this because his existence was apparently something that needed a higher power's intervention/involvement, so it seems odd that Sus Round One would require so many lives if it was shouldering any of that burden. I also wonder if, whatever that entity was, it wasn't something that was 'meant' to create/reproduce... kinda like the Tantas themselves, making it and Sus a foil to Cinta and Frey, and also possibly being part of the reason why he would be an 'abomination' (on top of being fuelled by sacrifice and other such fun things).

I also really wish we knew how Cuff felt being called that by someone from Rheddah— was it easy for him to brush off because Tanta = bad now in his mind, or does it quietly bother him? (I agree with the take that Cuff in the DLC is getting confronted by his own ignorance towards the nation he claims connection to, and having the only Rheddig person that ever speaks to him [if still indirectly] on-screen call him an abomination must have had SOME impact, even if he doesn't outwardly show it [at first])

Ah well, this is what fic is for 🥲

I don't know!

It's possible that Susurrus' initial creation wasn't as sacrifice-heavy, and that said higher power offered its own energy to facilitate the process... but I feel that it's also very possible that said higher power simply taught the Rheddig the methods of making something like Susurrus. It may have helped along the way, but the bulk of the effort could still lie with Rheddah and sacrifices. Which, y'know, one of my pet theories is that part of the reason Cuff is so duty-obsessed is that his initial birth may have been fueled by largely Rheddig lives... lives raised in and obsessed with a culture of duty. That obsession may have colored a significant part of the energy first used to make him.

Oh, I think Cuff and Frey are absolutely foils of one another, specific birth-origins or no. They are almost exactly opposite in their relationship to duty and choice... like, mirror images of one another. It's fascinating!

In terms of Cuff's feelings on being called an abomination, I think it depends upon whether he holds the Rheddig Tanta in high esteem or not. I, personally, wonder if said Tanta is actually a current ally of Rheddah or not. I wonder if she's maybe speaking from beyond the grave, and perhaps Rheddah no longer has Tantas. Perhaps it has something to do with the conflict between Rheddah and Athia.

my fun lil pet-theory is that the Tanta of Rheddah and the First Tanta are the same person

Well! All of this is indeed what fic is for c:

[catgirlforkaeya]

going to lantern rite w/ kaeya

kaeya x gn!reader

fluff

warnings: all lowercase + not proofread

a/n: happy lunar new year to everybody who celebrates it! i hope you all had a great day and i wish you a happy and healthy new year (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

a/n pt 2: reader is not traveler btw! you just know people in liyue haha. also sorry this is short i’m very tired tn 🥲

you were the one to suggest going to lantern rite to your boyfriend. you’d been wanting to go to it for awhile but wasn’t sure if kaeya would agree due to work reasons. when you finally got the gut to ask you were very shocked that he said yes.

the week leading up to your trip to liyue you were jittering with excitement. you’d been preparing everything, making sure the trip was going to go well. you even got matching red and gold outfits for the two of you to wear. kaeya thought it was cute how excited you were. he hasn’t seen you this thrilled over something in quite awhile, so it made him happy to see you like this. he was excited too, just wasn’t showing it was much as you.

it was close to sunset now. you and kaeya were approaching the gates of liyue, hands intertwined in each other. you were wearing the outfits you had bought recently. the air was chilly, but you knew that if you got too cold kaeya would just give you his jacket.

it didn’t take too long for you to enter the city, being greeted by colorful decorations and lights. you saw many stands selling all sorts of things. toys, kites, food, jewelry, clothing, you name it there was a vendor for it. kids who were playing a game of tag zoomed past you two, weaving in and out of the crowd while chasing after one another. you also saw some elderly people handing out red packets to younger children. the city truly was lively during lantern rite.

you two met up with some of your friends; keqing, ganyu, xiangling, and hu tao. you introduced them to kaeya since they hadn’t met yet, and thankfully they got along very well. the six of you ate at xiangling’s restaurant, discussing random topics. how your relationship has been, how life in mondstadt is, what’s been going on in their lives, and a bunch of other stuff.

you honestly lost track of time until keqing pointed out that the firework show was starting soon. right as you were about to ask what the best place to watch the show would be, keqing gave all of you the offer to go up to the jade chamber with her. apparently lady ningguang told her that she could bring some friends up to watch the fireworks from there. obviously you were all shocked but accepted the offer.

—

everyone arrived at the jade chamber just in time. by the time everybody was situated and comfortable up there the fireworks began going up. within seconds the sky exploded into a variety of colors— basically all of the colors of the rainbow. you stood there next to kaeya in awe, admiring the beauty of the show in front of you.

kaeya glanced over at you for a second, seeing the reflection of the fireworks in your eyes. you were admiring the fireworks, but he was admiring you. he felt like he fell in love all over again watching you in this moment.

eventually you took your gaze off of the fireworks and looked over at kaeya, who was still standing there gushing over you. you shot him a small smile, earning one back from him. you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rested your head on his shoulder, looking back up at the sky.

“happy lantern rite hun,” you heard kaeya say. his voice was low, but low enough for you to hear over the many booms coming from the fireworks. “i love you.”

you lifted your head up so that you were now looking at each other. you stayed like this for a second before both of you leaned in for a kiss— it was almost like you read each other’s minds.

breaking the kiss for a second, you mumbled something against his lips. you hoped he was able to hear it— from the way you felt his lips curl into a smile, you assumed he heard.

“i love you too. happy lantern rite kaeya.”

© all rights reserved to catgirlforkaeya. reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[writingisbetterthandying]

im not her - ts pt.3

hey… how y’all doing… sorry it’s been two months…

anyways! got the motivation and schedule cleared up so! i love this series sm just wish i didn’t have to be the one writing it 🥲

it’s fine it’s whatever it’ll just be done by the time series 6 is out lol

also earlier someone was like omg those (they said ‘your name’ but i knew they meant like y/n kinda thing) fics on wattpad? omg so lame kinda thing while i just had to go like what?!? no idea what those are never read one of those and then came on here to literally finish writing one of those

if this is getting too cliche idc but also i do but also ignoring canon whatevs it’s okay

hope you all like it! sorry it took ages!

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you may need a refresher so:

part 1 and part 2

tommy was fucked. well and truly fucked.

it was all he could think of in that moment, looking over your vanity in your shared bedroom. every time he glanced over, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, everything still as it should, he would anticipate a bright laugh interrupting his work, or charlie’s giggles as you played, but he would be met with silence instead.

you had been gone for three days now, charlie too, of course. none of your belongings had moved at all. it was torture. the maids steered further clear of him than before, and the silence of arrowe house returned again. not just the silence, but the coldness of the manor truly resonated with him. the halls seemed hallowed, and it felt nothing like the home it had grown into, though he was to blame.

he felt isolated- he was isolated. his family didn’t want to see him; esme and ada had quite a lot they did want to tell him, but they had been prevented from storming into his home and tearing him a new one. they did however, use the phone, and quite frequently too, which at one point tempted tommy to nearly rip the receiver out of its socket, but he composed himself in time to realize he would need it for updates about you.

you.

his wife.

his wife, who not only had he been stringing along for ages, but who had to live in the shadow of grace. who had to deal with all his shit with lizzie and may and now this fucking duchess.

tommy couldn’t fathom if anyone else in history had ever hated themself as much as he did in that moment. the few times he rang pol he got a short response, some lies about your well-being, but some genuine updates in the added presence of ada and karl in her cottage.

everyone felt extremely concerned about you. not only had you not spoken to anyone bar charlie, you were slowly becoming physically ill.

most of your days were spent with ada now, as everyone else was busy. they still had to continue on with business even if tommy was still holed up in arrowe house.

so far, you were bedridden, or sofa-ridden, a vacancy in your face, the color slightly drained, fatigue present. the only time any movement or genuine emotion present was an absolute sense of dread at the constant feeling of nausea.

once you had fallen asleep, polly and ada would join together over some gin, sharing the concerns they were too scared to voice around you.

they both suspected one thing, but they were too frightened to introduce that thought, that inkling to not only you, but tommy.

how were you supposed to raise a child of the man who had shattered your trust- your heart? you could of course, but a child wouldn’t be able to fix the damage already done.

everyone knew how overjoyed you were when ada found out she was pregnant- yes you had experienced martha’s and other women’s pregnancies, but despite the circumstances surrounding ada at the time, you were so supportive and at times, more excited than her.

everyone witnessed the brightness in your eyes as charlie called you “mama,” or any moment in which a baby would reach out to you, your face alight with happiness and unbridled joy.

you had always wanted to be a mother, something that wasn’t a secret by any means, but the recent events in your marriage put a halt to that all.

what tommy did was unforgivable, and polly and ada were both too concerned to even breech the topic with you.

but you were by no means dim, and you brought up the subject with them both one day when you felt well enough.

you were sitting in the parlor, a throw draped around your shoulders, a fresh pot of tea steaming in the center of the table.

your hands slightly shaky, weak with anguish and illness, you set your cup down, cautiously starting to speak. you quickly threw caution to the wind and ended in a near shout.

“pol, i’ve had an inkling, but am i- how do i say this- i- screw it! am i up the duff? am i having his child?”

they both paused mid-sip, not anticipating the slight outburst.

polly quickly recollected herself, placing her cup on the saucer.

“i can check if you’d like love, but i’m not sure if this is what you need to hear right now.”

your attitude quickly left and you receded back into yourself, wrapping the throw tightly around your figure.

“so i am with child,” you say slowly. you had thought of course, that it could be true, but you figured it had been stress and all the emotions, but polly was never wrong, and you weren’t sure what to do.

they were quiet, but nodded, allowing for you to process.

you’d keep the child. that was for certain. too many years had passed for you, and you wouldn’t know how many years or children you’d even be able to have in the future.

but how would charlie react? you’d hoped he would one day gain some new siblings, but the current situation was by no means ideal. he was young, but he was loved, and would never go ignored even if not biologically yours.

but how would tommy react? so much time had been spent envisioning your future with him, what had happened was never keyed in. you had somewhat foolishly assumed that once he was yours he would be yours wholly.

as your emotions heightened with such thoughts, some tears started to slowly make your way down your cheeks.

as you wiped them away, you spoke.

“you both must think me so foolish but i still want this. with him- i mean of course i do i’ve loved him since i can remember- but as of now i just don’t know if i can face him.”

“you aren’t foolish at all, dear. we’ll support you best we can. you can come with me and karl- god knows we have the space in london, but regardless of what you decide, we’ll be here for you,” ada said, her hand gently placed on yours- maternally almost.

you excused yourself to go back and rest, the two acknowledging you had a lot to deliberate over.

later that evening, there was a knock on the door. it was frantic, but polly opened it to find a composed looking tommy, dressed quite well for the time on a weeknight.

“and here i was thinking you weren’t home?” he said smugly.

“did you really need to stop by thomas? or are you here to fuck up things further with your wife? but if you really didn’t, then by all means, continue to act like you have anyone, because believe me, tom: no one is on your side.”

he slightly deflated but still bit back, “john doesn’t seem too upset with me,” to which she laughed at.

“john doesn’t seem to have much of a brain with the amount he thinks with his cock, so please, spare me the pity tom.”

they both chuckled a little, but he knew she was right, and ceded.

“i need to see her, pol,” she scoffed, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it swiftly.

“the last thing she needs right now is your presence thomas, or did you forget that you fucked some russian whore in your home?”

he grimaced, but tried to maintain calm.

“hard to forget. i need to see her pol, and i didn’t come here to play your little games.”

she exhaled some smoke.

“she doesn’t need to see you thomas.”

he sighed in frustration at his aunt’s indifference. not known for maintaining calm for long, he burst, slapping his palm against the table.

“i need to see her pol! now! enough with your little fucking games and let me talk to my wife!”

she chuckled briefly before her face hardened and she leaned forward.

“you have no right to come here after what you did thomas- fucking another in your home and abandoning her in that state. you’ve ruined your marriage, ruined the one woman who ever truly loved you, who devoted herself to you. three, four days go by and now you need her? then why was there another to begin with, aye? you have no right.”

he had to admit her words hurt, but he wouldn’t give up that easily.

“let me see her!”

once again, your presence stilled a scene.

days ago in the foyer, the mood still maintained, the tension of the yelling present but quiet filling the space.

now, in polly’s cottage, your husband looking relieved to see you, polly looking worried yet anger still laying behind her eyes.

not anticipating tommy’s presence, you froze mid step. dread washed over you, fear ebbing into your figure, a slight tremor consuming you as you stood, paused on the stairs.

as much as you normally would’ve immediately wanted to feel his embrace, that sense of security had fled. you only felt cold, felt so scared in his presence, the scene you left in arrow house returning in full force in your mind, infiltrating your thoughts that could’ve been joyful.

it was quiet. still, no one moved.

“i’d like for you to leave.” you could barely be heard, but the silence allowed every word to resonate with tommy.

“i need to talk to you love. i need you back home, at arrow house- i need charlie back too-”

you interrupted him, your voice still much softer than his. though slightly surprised by the apologetic tone, you just couldn’t at this time.

“i don’t care to listen to you grovel, tom. i’m asking you to leave,” tears once again building in your eyes.

this time, he attempted to approach you, stepping forward. you stepped back quickly, almost too quickly, to evade his touch.

polly was telling him to leave, but her words didn’t seem to make any sound. the tears picked up speed as you wordlessly watched your husband start to go, his eyes not leaving yours, his shouts of whatever it may have been left unheard.

it was all too much.

as tommy left, polly guided you to the settee, trying to console you as your emotions overtook your being.

you practically cried yourself to sleep, overworked with the night’s events.

tommy, miles away, drank himself to sleep in his study, alone.

polly felt as though she could barely sleep, unable to think of a happy ending for the two.

tags oops! they’re open!

@walkingonshunshine

[ishikawayukis]

If your tags are indicative of anything I am off to a bad start for guessing which gifs are yours....i really thought i knew your coloring style....also the new teaser pics have me losing it!! I dont know what the concept actually will be with how different they are but im loving the anyone vibes of some of them

And thank you so much for your midterms encouragement!!! I just really wish they were exams so I could get them over with in one go but they're all projects or essays 🥲 i may disappear for the next two weeks or so, so let me just say I hope all is going well on your end! I'm rooting for you 💕 - Spanish learning anon

oh man you're right with exams eve tho they can be tiring they're just, you did it and that's that, writing an essay is a pain in the ass and i don't miss it LMAO but with luck with those tho!! you're gonna do an amazing job

and honestly i thought i didn't have a coloring style but almost everyone is guessing mine right so LMAO and dude!!! no clue what the concept is actually going to be like, the 3 teaser pics have all been so different and have no correlation whatsoever so i truly feel like we're going blind into this comeback