#easy Sunday school lessons

[bbanghiitomi]

| RRL (reviewing relationship lessons)

synopsis: dating kang haerin feels like waking up on a friday morning, looking forward to what may happen tomorrow (saturday), and tomorrow again (sunday)... then anxious about what may come next, then you're happy again because there's really nothing to be afraid of.

— newjeans!khaerin! × newjeans!fem!reader

(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[my girlfriend...]

> what should i do when my girlfriend is upset and i don't have any idea why?

comments:

guestuser_1253 commented

> why is she upset?

user16277 commented

> tough, skill issue

guestuser_7937 commented

> the best option is to talk to her about it, you will never know why or what to do if you don't ask her.

"man these comments sure are useless..." haerin mutters under her breath as she shifts her gaze behind her laptop, as she sits on the dorm's sofa — she catches a glimpse of you from the kitchen, talking to minji while baking cupcakes and cookies. haerin feels a sense of jealousy, also guilt. she doesn't quite understand why you're so distant today, it's only tuesday and you haven't told her what the problem was, it's already getting inside haerin's head and is making her overthink about what she may have done wrong.

but alas, what the last commenter said was right, she's never going to know unless she asks you, it's not like you're going to telepathically tell her nor are you going to tell her without her asking. this is the worst part of becoming kang haerin, the lack of initiative and not being very confrontational about stuff... no matter how big or small it could be.

well it's hard — very, for someone like haerin confrontation isn't as easy as shutting up and waiting, maybe because waiting hurts less? or at least she can expect the worst and not be surprised, give her some time! she's just learning, and learning means making mistakes and adjusting of course.

it's not just her anymore, it's you and her.

which means anything she does may affect you, well great! no one told her it'll be that way. things just don't happen because of nature, somehow haerin remembers what she once read in a book before: existence precedes essence, it means that one person guides themselves towards their destiny through their choices.

haerin shudders thinking about it, that means whatever happens to her is her fault and only her fault. now, back to you — she remembers how sweet you were yesterday but today seems different, obviously you're still sweet but not as sweet (enough to give someone type 2 diabetes) as you were yesterday and that sucks for haerin because she loved your sweetness.

haerin tries to think back to what she did yesterday that may be possible to get you acting this way, but no matter how scrunches her face, she couldn't think of any reason why you're being so distant. if she continues waiting or not doing anything you may get more upset!

gosh, what did i do for her to act like this?

seriously, she doesn't know. given the fact that you're dating her for only 2 months, of course she's still trying to grasp your emotions, your actions, and your mood... you've been friends with her alright? she likes you, by a lot! the thing is that, haerin was never the type to really make a move when she was still crushing on you, which really meant you did most of the initiatives to get her to do something and she wasn't able to get to know you more aside from what she already knows.

it's embarrassing for her really...

haerin sighs and closes her macbook, she stretches and places the gadget on the wooden table in the living room before standing up and making her way to the kitchen to see you and now danielle as minji had to leave to help hyein with her school work. haerin glides her hand on the countertop, you're busy mixing the ingredients and your furrowed brows were the proof to your effort.

danielle on the other hand is watching over the oven to make sure none of the cookies are burnt.

"hey..." haerin calls out to you, eyes on you while you whisk the eggs. "hmmm?" you simply reply, haerin blinks yet her face has no reaction. she simply leans on the counter, with you being on the other side of the kitchen island and her on the other.

haerin pouts, moving her hand with her index finger sticking out as she reaches for your bracelet, which she made by the way. haerin pulls it gently, just to get your attention and which was of course — successful. you lift your head slightly to get a glimpse of her, with your eyes you see her looking up at you with her cat-like eyes, her contact lenses making her pupils look much more prominent.

you kind of feel the way your heart skips, wasn't part of the plan by the way — you didn't want to ignore haerin but you wanted to make her feel that you were quite disappointed with her dismissive behavior yesterday, when she brushed off min heejin in exchange for peace (an alone time with you). it's not like min heejin was mad or anything — actually, she didn't even mind it but of course, you did and you know haerin didn't even realize that she completely dismissed their ceo for you.

you don't like that! you don't like when people get ignored because of you! you know haerin, giving her a timeout even through being away from her by a small distance is enough to make her feel like something has to be wrong or out of the ordinary.

you know she doesn't like spending a day without talking to you or at least receiving hugs from you... and it's only 2pm!

"why are you ignoring me?" haerin asks, her voice is muffled by her arm that is folded on top of the counter in front of her face. the tone of her voice seems like she really wants you to know that it's bothering her, and correction — you're not even ignoring her, you literally greeted her when she woke up!

"i am not ignoring you haerin." you tell her, you see the way she scrunches her nose but only for a few seconds before she looks down again and back up at you. "in fact, i'm baking for us and i greeted you good morning earlier." you add, leaning close to her — haerin lets go of your bracelet when you shift your hands to place the bowl aside.

you really need her to be more specific about what she wants to know, because you're sure she's wondering if she's done something and all she has to do is ask.

you see danielle placing the newly baked cookies just beside haerin, haerin doesn't even spare any glance at the tray but just follows your traces. danielle leaves the kitchen to answer the telephone call from heejin and now it's just you and haerin.

haerin hums. "did i do something wrong yesterday?" she asks, fully leaning onto the countertop. you sigh as you stand in front of the kitchen island, a few meters away from her.

"it's not wrong, i guess... it's just not proper." haerin pushes herself up when you answer, her eyes widening. "w-what did i do?" she asks, though she tried to exclaim, her voice came out gentle and almost like a whisper. you know she's almost panicking, so you give her a small smile and walk to her side, not forgetting to grab the bag of icing.

"haerin, look — i know you love me but yesterday, i feel like you could've responded a little more attentively to heejin-nim yesterday. she was asking us nicely if we wanted to eat lunch with her, you know us three?" your shoulders slack, then you shrug, giving her a small smile. "you sounded uninterested and although you really wanted to spend the whole time with me — you shouldn't have shrugged her off like that. still, i love you haerin." you squeezed the icing out of the pipe and onto the cupcake.

"sorry... i got a little too carried away." haerin looks at your hands as she reaches to scratch her cheek, feeling her face warming up in embarrassment.

you remain quiet for a few minutes, finishing the icing before you place the bag down and face her, lifting your hand and touching her shoulder, then your fingers press against her neck. "i know... it's okay." you whisper, looking at her face — the way you stare made her flustered, feeling the familiar sound of her heart thumping banging in her ears.

she wants to stare back at you but you're making it hard for her.

baby boss (haerin-g)

[baby boss sent an image]

chicken nuggets...

chicken...

nuggets...

hi haerin!

you want chicken nuggets?

how many?

20...

chicken nuggets...

oh, okay!

i'm with minji-unnie, we're otw home!

i love you...

y/nnie...

kiss...

lol :P i love you too haerin!!!

(⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ )

HUGS AND KISSES!!!!

"bleh, you and your weird girlfriend." minji fakes disgust as she closes her eyes and turns her head away from you. "why are you spying on our conversation?" you ask, raising a brow at her, turning your phone sideways where she can't see the screen. "you have your screen brightness as bright as the sun on a sunday morning, probably that's why anyone within the distance of 50 meters would be able to read your messages." minji answers, still has her eyes shut as if she's got someone throwing acid at her eyes.

"okay... you didn't have to go off like that by the way — hey manager-nim! let's get 20 chicken nuggets for haerin!" you raise your hand, your manager looks at you and minji through the rear mirror and nods. "okay! there's a mcdonald's drive thru nearby." they answer before looking back at the road. minji finally opens her eyes and looks at you. "why does she want 20 chicken nuggets?" she asks, leaning on the seat.

today, you had a schedule for a magazine cover photoshoot with minji and although it was such a fun experience to have with your oldest member — it sure is tiring, this is why you never forget to thank the staff around after the schedule as they make the job a whole lot easier for you.

"because she wants some. why is it even a question?" you look up and then to minji — minji laughs and shakes her head. "oh nothing, just didn't expect her to have a borderline addiction to chicken nuggets. like — 20? guess she really did want to impress you before." minji shrugs, eyes shifting to the window and following the buildings with her eyes.

"i do think chicken nuggets are great — i'm happy to share that sentiment with her." you giggle, feeling your heart jump in joy — sometimes minji feels like if you were an inside out character, you'd probably only have like at least 5 joys, 5 angers, 5 fears, 5 disgust and 5 sadness — you express emotions 5 times more intensely than haerin.

imagine how crazy that is?

minji laughs when she imagines haerin having like 1/2 joy, maybe 1 anger, 1 disgust, 1/2 fear and 1/2 sadness and thinking about it more made her burst out laughing so hard.

"what is wrong with you?" you ask minji, watching her clutch her stomach in laughter. "oh my god... nothing — you and haerin are so perfect together!" minji dramatically wipes a tear off of her eye as she speak.

"you're just jealous and bitter." you scoff playfully, minji shrugs and lets out one last snicker. "you and hanni always say that." she shakes her head.

baby boss (haerin-g)

[boss baby sent an image]

hey this is us in another universe

;)))) how do u feel about that girl?

flattered actually,

spending my life with u again even in another universe is a dream

:'(((

i'm supposed to be flirting with you

and you're also supposed to be interacting with other celebrities there

but i don't mind talking to you

(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

pshhh... i feel lonely here

i don't see why i, a 17 yrs old girl should be talking to adults

i don't know why i'm here anyway

'cause it's ur job

don't worry!! it's only for today, after that we can cuddle!

doesn't that excite you???

yeah, it does excite me

great!!!

i'm excited to go home now...

great...

so, ur just gonna stand in a corner? tapping your phone?

better than talking to strangers,

i miss you so bad.

:(((

i miss u too bb

so... what do u want to talk about?

anything actually, just ask me a question

good, would u love me if i was cursed by an evil witch and became a horse?

why a horse out of all animals?

i think you would be a frog, the small kind of frog.

and you'd be slimy because the witch knows you hate being slimy.

well it sounds like you won't love me

i would!!! if you were a slimy frog, i'd keep you in a large tank with the perfect ecosystem for you to thrive.

and i'll watch you every day.

i said a horse.

but i want you to be a frog,

what if i was the evil witch?

what..?

oh, heejin-nim is asking me to stop messaging you for a while lols

that sucks, should i bring my phone down?

you should! event's about to be over. hang on a bit!

"you smell so nice..." you whisper, head buried on haerin's back — she lays on her side, offering her back for you to lean on. "uh huh, thought you'd like me more if i smell like a watermelon." haerin snickers, a proud smirk written on her face as she feels you smothering her behind, rubbing your cheeks on her clothed back, arms wrapped around her waist. "you really do smell like a watermelon, i love it so much." you mutter, voice muffled by her tshirt that's been sprayed by a perfume resembling the scent of a fresh watermelon.

haerin had just gotten home from her trip out of the country and though she was tired, she couldn't help but give you the satisfaction to get a whiff of her watermelon scent that she bought from a store in her trip, thinking of you while on her way to pay for it.

"cool, if only hyein wouldn't take a bite out of me, i would be willing to smell like a watermelon everyday." haerin declares.

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[gift ideas]

> i'm planning to surprise my girlfriend with a gift, what's something that's really romantic but simple?

comments:

usergo728294 commented

> a heartfelt message

guestuser77867 commented

> maybe some kisses and hugs??

guestuser_5667 commented

> a really cute ring!

"ah, thanks manager! me and haerin are off to get something, we'll be alright don't worry!" you link your arms with haerin's as you pull her to the exit of the building, you look at her and see her sharp eyes even with a cap on her head. you smile and tilt your head, beaming at her direction — her eyes relax at the sight of your face, it brings a smile on her lips even if it is covered with a mask.

"won't they go looking for us?" haerin whispers, both of you make your way to a sidewalk — it's only 5pm and after practice have just finished, you decide that it would be a good idea to hang out with her for even just a short amount of time — even just walking around the park and looking at anything, it's enough time to keep your head from going insane with the amount of burden work has left you.

you intertwine your fingers with hers, swaying both your hands together as you two walk in a moderately occupied street. although you'd like it better if it was just you and her, you can't help but at least feel a little more like an ordinary human loving someone with all these people around — it made you feel less of a robot, and it feels like you're just like everyone else.

"they probably will but, we'll be alright, right? i'm with you and you're with me, i don't have anything to be scared of." you say, moving closer to her — closing the gap between you and her figure. haerin looks away for only a bit, her eyes even as they were covered with the cap — looks like there were glimmering stars inside of them. "right, i'll make sure no one bothers us." haerin puffs her chest proudly, trying to seem big and mighty but all you can see is a cat — like a cat that stands on its two paws with it's two other paws raised.

"uh huh, bet no one will bother us if you hiss at them." you laugh, feeling the way your cheeks warm up at the sensation of her hand. "they won't." she says.

your eyes spots a small vendor selling beunggo-ppang — you pull down you mask and you look at haerin with a grin on your face. "let's get some snacks!" haerin tries to balance herself when you start pulling her to the vendor, approaching the stall with a bright smile. you buy two of the snack and reach out to give the other one to her.

"we have so much on our plate right now, so many events — photoshoots, filming... sometimes i wish we could get a long vacation or something." you start to talk once again when haerin takes your hand again and holds it tight, she looks at you as you speak, holding her snack in the other hand of hers. you look forward, seeing the sunset peeking behind the tall buildings as the light illuminates on your face.

haerin looks down on the snack on her hand, analyzes the warm fish-like bread, and sees the way the smoke wafts around. she then turns her head to look at you and feels the way her stomach twists, the way her heart thumps and her cheeks feel warmer than usual.

"i do too. if we get the chance to go spend a day even for only one day, where no one can recognize us. where would it be?" haerin asks, eyes looking for your eyes — she sees the sunset reflecting on your pupils. you stop walking and you stand near a playground at a park, it's empty with every kid and their guardians making their way home.

"me?" you point your index finger to yourself. haerin nods and underneath a mask is a smile on her lips.

"yes you."

"huh... if we had a chance to go somewhere without being recognized... i think i would want to go to an arcade." you answer before taking the last bite out of your beungo-ppang, haerin tilts her head as she looks at you, wondering what made you choose an arcade as your answer. "why an arcade?"

"i mean why not?" you shrug.

"i expected you'll answer like a theme park or a beach." haerin says. you laugh and nod.

you look at the dark sky, turning dark blue then to haerin's eyes. "well, both are nice too but whenever i think of theme parks and beaches, i prefer being with you guys. and if it were just the two of us, i wanted to be in a place like a local arcade — you know like, the two of us and maybe some other people who don't know us. and we'll feel like an ordinary couple doing couple stuff!" haerin nods.

"then it would feel less suffocating and scary, then we won't have to worry about what we don't know, what we expect and what may happen." you add, you take off your mask to fully show the smile on your face. haerin feels her heart clench, something not out of sadness — maybe, a bit because she wishes she could actually have you without being scared of a lot of things then again, she has you and you have her, what's there to be afraid of?

she's so happy that you feel that way about her, that you're as desperate as she is and as eager to do stuff together and cherish each other's presence. it makes her feel special, like haerin other than being an idol has something to be proud of. "i wish we can stop cosplaying and playing pretend to be highschool students in a mysterious world. but i really don't regret being an idol, besides having all these people who care about me i also met you." you tell her, haerin has completely forgotten about her snack — hand reaching out to hold you.

"y/n!" you get surprised with her outburst, she furrows her brows before the untouched snack on her hand falls on the ground and she starts looking for something in her pockets. "haerin..?" you mutter.

"here..! look, i have this ring for you." you watch as she shows a golden ring with a diamond ring — something she saw when she was doing her advertisement for dior. "—! is... that a ring? i know it is but, what for?" you ask, taken back.

"for you. because i love you! and i wanted to give this to you, i don't know why but i really really — really want you to have it." she rambles, you look at it and sees the way the diamond glimmers. "you think i deserve it?" you ask again, feeling hot tears well on the corner of your eyes.

"you do. seriously, that's why i got it because i couldn't help but think of you when i was looking at it." she explains, grabbing your other hand and slipping it on your ring finger.

"how did you know it fits?" you ask, looking at the ring on your finger, mesmerized by the way it shines.

"i... kind of just felt your fingers and went with my intuition." she laughs and shrugs, the way her eyes bend make you weak.

"i love it! it's so beautiful." you giggle, ecstatic.

"yeah i know, that's why i got it for you." haerin pulls her mask down and pulls you in a tight hug, you feel your heart jump and you let her be as she wraps her arms around you. "hey..." you mutter.

"i love you." haerin mutters, burying her face on your shoulder, sobbing. you place your hand on her waist, looking at her. "i love you too." you whisper, giggling in happiness.

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[my girlfriend is sad]

> what to do if my gf is sad?

posted 18 hours ago...

your eyes scan the monitor of haerin's macbook, seeing the words from a website haerin have recently visited — she's asking a forum website, consulting strangers for help with you and her relationship. yesterday, after a schedule that lasted almost a whole day — you came home with the group and stayed inside your room, unmoving the whole time. maybe it's the neverending work, the lack of sleep, and the amount of coffee you took but you were feeling so sad.

you were lying on your side on the bad, sad and alone, haerin peeked to see you and felt compelled whether she should lay next to you or leave you be.

haerin entered your room, not forgetting to knock but you were so lost in your thoughts you have completely ignored her. she stood beside the bed, looking at your frame trying to decipher what may be the reason behind your sadness but have come to a conclusion that she may not know why.

the truth is that, you are also clueless to what is the reason why — you don't understand why you felt like this and don't understand why you can't understand.

you're just sad and tired.

haerin sat next to you in the bed, but kept her hands to herself. you still have your back facing her that time, it's not like you were ignoring her but you just didn't have the energy to turn around and talk nor even say anything about it.

haerin wanted to ask but she's contemplating if you would want to talk about it because she understood that there are times where people are just sad for no reason, it happens to her when she's feeling like a burnout.

it still bothered her, she really wanted to make you feel better but at the same time, she didn't want you to think or worry that once you tell her what you felt, you would think haerin sees herself as the problem.

after a while, she decided to leave your room and found herself in the dorm's living room, her macbook on the coffee table by the sofa. she sat on the sofa and started typing on her keyboard, that's where she found herself asking for help on the website and after waiting and more waiting, and some thinking — haerin fell asleep on the couch.

today, as soon as you wake up, you find her lying on the sofa, in a deep slumber.

you smile at the sight and crouch to the level of the sofa to take a good look at haerin, sees the way her eyes flutter and the way her chest rises. you get the urge to pinch her cheeks but resort to poking her cheek.

"love you haerin." you whisper before leaning in to kiss her temple and standing up to close her macbook before leaving to cook breakfast in the kitchen with the other girls.

#Spotify #female reader #kpop #kpop imagines #newjeans #newjeans imagines #girl group #girlgroup imagines #haerin x reader #kang haerin #newjeans haerin

[train-wrecc]

Sundays

niklaus mikaelson x female!reader

word count: 2.3k

fluff!

warnings!: none?

Y/n, Klaus, and Hope had been shopping for some new clothes for Hope. Albeit Hope didn’t need that many clothes seeing as you’d often find her wearing numerous variations of her uniform for the Salvatore School. However, Klaus spoiled the young tribrid. Always insisting to Y/n, “She’s a growing girl, my love, she needs them.” 

“She needs 4 pairs of the same skirt in different colors, Nik?”

“She’s a Mikaelson love, it’s not about our needs, it’s about our wants. If she wants 5 Range Rovers in 5 different colors for each day of the school week, she’d surely get them.”

“Really?” Hope exclaimed turning to look at her dad.

“Why of course-”

“Not, sweetie your father’s just joking.” Y/n interrupted the hybrid, elbowing him in his side, to shut his mouth and not give the girl any ideas.

“Hope, honey, why don’t you go browse the shoes,”

“You’re so right mom, I’ve been dying to get a new pair of combat boots!” Her voice trailed off as she headed to the store's shoe section. 

“Klaus, I thought we talked about this, we need to stop spoiling her.”

“Love, you talked, I simply sat there and listened.”

“Well, clearly you didn’t listen hard enough.”

“Honestly love, I don’t see what’s so wrong with giving her the things she wants, you know it’s how I show my affection,” 

“I know Nik, but sometimes she needs to work for what she wants, we can’t just reward her for nothing.”

“How absurd of you to say that. We’re not rewarding her for nothing, we’re rewarding her for being my daughter-”

“Our daughter.” Y/n raised her brows while correcting him.

“Yes, our daughter, and for being a tribrid- I mean that can’t be easy, look at my past, and I’m only a hybrid…”

“Bub, I think that’s just you… and have you forgotten you’re not the only hybrid here?”

“No, but you’re a Heretic, sweetheart, don't you think there’s a wee bit of a difference there?

“Either way that’s not the point, Nik.” 

“Alright, darling, I will try to spoil Hope a little less. Happy?”

“Yes, now let’s go find our daughter,” Y/n said before placing a small kiss on the Hybrid’s full lips. 

After loading their expensive SUV with even more expensive bags of various clothing, jewelry, and shoes, the Mikaelson girls had become a little hangry.

“Nik, just stop at the grill, we’re starving.”

“Oh please, not that wretched place,”

“Niklaus, I swear if you don’t-”

“Alright, the Mystic Grill it is.”

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

At first, Niklaus refused to order anything from the grill, while Y/n and Hope ordered their favorites. Hope saw  Landon working out of the corner of her eye, he’d been working there for a while now, and she’d thought he was kinda cute.

Hope quietly talked to her parents about what she’d been learning in her History of the Supernaturals class. After, Y/n gave Hope a sneak peek at her lesson plan for the upcoming Monday in her very own Advanced Magic class. Which, Hope was in, of course. Her mother was not only a teacher at the Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted but also a very powerful witch. 

“Where’s our waiter? I’ve been wanting to order a Peanut Butter Blast, and Nik stop eating my fries when you said you didn’t want anything! I’m saving them for my shake.” Y/n said pulling her plate away from the thief she called her husband. 

Niklaus held his hands up in mock surrender, stealing another fry when his wife wasn’t looking. Hope giggled at her father's antics, she loved her parents and hoped one day she would find someone to love her, just as much as they loved each other. 

Y/n saw a waiter with curly hair passing by and stopped him, “Excuse me, could I get 2 Peanut Butter Blasts with whipped-“

“With whipped cream on the bottom?” The boy finished.

“Uh yeah, how’d you know?” Y/n questioned, a laugh escaping her lips.

The boy made a small gesture towards Hope with the pen in his hand. “It’s usually how Hope orders it, just assumed...and now I know where she got the idea from.” He answered with an awkward smile.

“Hey Landon,” Hope said returning the awkward smile. 

“And how do you two exactly know each other?” Klaus questioned the pair. 

“Well, I come here pretty often Dad, and Landon goes to Mystic Falls High, so yeah…”

“Mmm,” 

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Landon,” Y/n spoke with a smile to try and ease the tension that Niklaus had created. 

“You as well, uh, I should go and get that order in,” He said before walking toward the kitchen.

“You’re not dating anyone until you’re 100, I hope you know that,” Klaus said to his tribrid daughter, who responded with a roll of her eyes.

Klaus received a nudge in his side from Y/n, as Hope spoke up, “I don’t even like him like that, he’s just a friend, Dad.” 

“Sure,” Niklaus said his words coated in sarcasm while Y/n snorted in amusement at her daughter, in an attempt to hold her laughter in.

“Just ike you’re mother and I were just friends, and look at where we are now… and no matter if you don’t like him, he clearly likes you Hopey,” 

“Yeah right,” Hope said with the same amount of sarcasm as her father.

The group of three finally decided to head out once they had received their shakes, Y/n taking her fries as well. The car was filled with the hum of a jazz song that reminded the Mikaelsons of their true home, New Orleans. Of course, the only reason the Mikaelsons had left was to give Hope a proper education and expand her knowledge of her species; how to control her powers, and her heightened emotions. If there was one thing that Y/n and Klaus wished for their daughter it was that she never used her abilities for bad, for her to not follow the same path that her father once had. Albeit they would love her no matter what, always and forever. 

Once they had made it to their expensive abode, Hope took her new wardrobe - with the help of her parents up to her room. She finished reorganizing her closet and went downstairs to be met by her father painting in their shared art room dedicated to their favorite shared craft. Hope joined Niklaus, placing her easel beside his, before beginning to besmirch the white canvas with various colors. The pair were focused on their own work, like usual, speaking a few sentences here and there. The pair preferred to bask in the comfort of the others presence. Hope truly loved her father, she knew he had made numerous mistakes in his extensive life, but she never held those against him, she knew of the abuse her father suffered in his childhood. It was that abuse that had shaped him combined with the heightened emotions of being a hybrid, made him prone to violence. Nevertheless, Klaus would never intentionally hurt his daughter in any shape or way, he had continuously made the effort to not jump to violence the second he felt upset or irate. Most of the time he would begin to feel anger or any emotions that would make him feel overwhelmed, he would often go somewhere to cool off and take a breather. He promised he would never raise his voice at his wife or daughter. 

Nik accidentally bumped into Hope when he had been adjusting his canvas, causing her to create a large streak of red paint across her canvas. “Dad!” Hope blurted at the man who had caused her to ruin her masterpiece. “Dove, I’m so sorry, I swear it was an accident.” He said sincerely, looking at her canvas; he didn’t know when she had become a better painter than him. 

“It’s alright,” She sighed.

“Here, go at it,” He turned his canvas toward her. 

She gazed up at him before looking at the canvas, which was a painting containing two people with a little girl inbetween them with their hands clasped together in a field of flowers taking up the foreground, in the background the Salvatore Estate. 

“Is that you, Mom, and me?” the girl questioned her father. 

“It is indeed,” He replied with a nod.

She took a separate paintbrush and dipped it into a gray-almost-black color, adding the shadows of the figures to the canvas. Before her father could process it she swiped the paintbrush across his nose where freckles used to lay.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, Dove.” 

Klaus reached for one of his larger paintbrushes filled with a previous color of paint he’d used swiping it across Hope’s arm. Giggles, laughter, and shrieks filled the room and bounced off the walls. The sounds of happiness mixed with the clacking of feet running.

Y/n placed her book on the side table beside the oh-so-comfortable la-Z-boy chair she had begged Klaus for. She made her way to the large art room, practically the size of a large dining room, where she heard various noises. When she opened the door, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, however, it was not paint strewn all over her handsome husband, beautiful daughter, and the floor that was thankfully protected by a clear, plastic tarp. A laugh escaped her lips at the sight of the two loves of her life flicking paint at each other. The sound made the two glance at the door, where Y/n stood slightly in front. The pair of artists quickly glanced at each other, silently conversing. They then ran toward Y/n, pulling her into a tight embrace and getting paint all over her, matching the other two. This caused her to squeal, the father-daughter duo pressing kisses to Y/n’s cheeks, resulting in various giggles escaping her lips. 

“Alright, alright, thank you for the kisses,” She said trying to speak through her laughter. Y/n pulled away from them, returning the kisses, placing a kiss on both of their cheeks. She was looking at her little family, eyes filled with pure adulation, heart beating with nothing but happiness. 

Suddenly a painting grabbed Y/n’s attention, two figures that resembled her and Nik and another stood in between them, which resembled a young Hope in a field of Y/n’s favorite flowers. Her old home, the Salvatore Estate in the background.

“Nik… you painted this…” She murmured, knowing the painting had his own artistic touch to it.

“Of course, my love.” 

“I love it, it’s beautiful…” She murmured, her scintillating eyes meeting his light blue eyes. She placed her hand against his cheek, gently caressing his face before pulling her husband into a short gentle kiss filled with fervor. The two lovers pulled away, due to their daughter being in the room, and not wanting to scar her.

“We should hang it in the foyer, both of them,” She smiled at her two artists. 

“Whatever you want, my love,” Nik replied, his arms gently caressing Y/n’s waist.

“Also, we need to clean ourselves up, today’s Sunday so we're going to your Uncle Stefan’s for dinner.”

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

The Mikaelsons arrived at the Salvatore’s house, and 2 other cars were already in the driveway. All of a sudden the front door swung open and Stefan and Caroline's son Cayden ran out to greet the family, as they unloaded from the SUV. 

“Auntie Y/n, Uncle Nik, Hope!” He excitedly exclaimed.

The young boy threw himself at his aunt, happily squeezing her in a hug.

“Hi, sweetheart, how are you?” She said, caressing the seven-year-olds back while returning his embrace. 

“I’m amazing! You know who isn’t? Sadie, she’s sad because her boyfriend broke up with her…” The young boy whispered the end of his sentence. “Oh my poor girl,” Y/n said. 

Cayden ended up letting go of his aunt to greet his uncle just as excitedly. They began walking into the house greeted by Stefan, Damon, and Elena sitting on the large couch. Hope immediately went toward her aunt, greeting her and pulling her in for a hug. Nik greeted the Salvatore brothers before sitting down with his nephew, who immediately began to go on, and on about various topics. 

“Stef, Damon!” Y/n exclaimed, pulling her younger and older brother into an embrace.

“Hey Y/n/n,” They greeted her in unison. 

Y/n talked with the pair for a little before, she and Hope made their way into the kitchen to greet Caroline along with Sadie. They were shocked to find Rebekah, Marcel, and Rowena, their 10-year-old daughter, seated on the stools by the island.

“Bekah!” Y/n shrieked, bursting with joy at getting to see her sister-in-law, that was more of an actual sister to her. She hugged the woman tightly. 

"Hi, love, how've you been?" Rebekah questioned the woman, who was still hugging her.

"Good, you'd know that if you visited more, I haven't seen you in months!" She exclaimed.

"I know I'm sorry I promise we'll visit more often." She responded, gently pulling away from the hug.

"You better, and why didn't you tell us you guys were coming!" She said lightly hitting the vampire on the shoulder, causing her to feign pain.

"We wanted to surprise you." She smiled at her sister.

"How's Nik, he giving you any trouble?"

"Oh always, you know how your brother is," Y/n laughed, “No, I’m kidding, he’s amazing but don’t tell him I said that, his ego’s already big as it is.” 

“Are you ladies speaking of me? I heard the word ego…” Niklaus popped into the kitchen, his hand immediately finding it’s place on his wife’s waist. 

“Speak of the devil,” Rebekah said. 

The family aided in making dinner, which took quite long considering all the catching up and shenanigans that had occurred just like every Sunday dinner. It didn’t matter what was going on, family dinner was a must every week. Always and forever.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

A/N - The ending’s really crappy because I just wanted this out of my drafts and I honestly forgot where I had been going with this… also I have so many drafts that stop at 3k because I can never make it past 3k I truly don't know why, and I literally can't write fics that are like simple an around 1k. I have to make the most complex's plots and then never finish writing them 😭

#niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #the originals imagine #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd fandom #hope mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #marcel gerard #mikaelsongifs #mikaelson family #xreader #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikealson smut #train-wreccmasterlist #twmasterlist

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

The art model

Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.

Modern AU. My very first Zoro fic! This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn!

There is probably going to be a part two (and maybe even a part three!) to this...

*****

You had started having second thoughts on the very day you had asked Luffy to tell his teacher, Shanks, about you (or rather, you had allowed him to do so, after your friend had begged you for weeks), the anxiety mounting inside you progressively as the day of the first class drew near, and this morning, when a moment after waking up you looked at the calendar hanging from the wall and realized you were expected at the art school in just twelve hours, you felt the urge to scream loud enough for the whole building to hear.

How could you be so stupid to accept your friend's proposal? Yes, you were (and still are, barely two weeks later) in dire need of money, since you haven't been able to secure a scholarship or a loan to fund your education and your job at the bar doesn't pay enough. Yes, the classes are in the evenings and on Saturday morning, which is perfect because it allows you to attend your own lessons in the morning, spend your afternoons at the Partys', waiting tables and preparing drinks with your aunt Makino, and spend your Sundays in a coma, sleeping as much as you can to recuperate at the end of yet another hectic week. What's more, from what Luffy had told you the job is relatively easy, which certainly beat spending hours restocking shelves in a supermarket or cycling around to make deliveries for a restaurant.

Still... it is embarrassing. Absurd. A little ambiguous, also, even though you are confident Luffy would not drag you in something shady or of dubious morality; he has assured you the job is perfectly safe and even fun, but on the other had your friend's idea of amusement or security is different from that of most other people...

Even though you do need a job, part of you hoped Shanks would decide to hire someone else, given your complete lack of experience in the field, or that in the following weeks some problem would arose that forced him to look for another employee. He didn't, and (and for this you have to blame no one but yourself) since you didn't have the courage to disappoint both your friend and his teacher, you never called Shanks to tell him you had changed your mind.

Today is your first day of work as a nude model for the East Blue Art School, and you have no idea whatsoever what awaits you.

Luffy assured you that you didn't need to smarten yourself (you would be tempted to say to undress up) since what is required of a nude model is a natural look, but today, after returning home from your shift at the bar, you make sure to shave and wash your hair, and pay special attention to your make-up; the people you will pose for are students, not famous fashion photographer, but you want to look your best. You also spend a few minutes in front of your wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear, before realizing how utterly pointless the whole matter is, since you are going to pose in your birthday suit.

In the end, you decide you might as well choose something which you feel comfortable in; you have just put on your favourite shirt and a pair of new jeans when an energic, like everything he does and is, ringing of the door-bell heralds Luffy's arrival.

"(name)! Are you ready?" he asks, as enthusiastic as if he were going to escort you to the altar on your wedding day, rather than to a new workplace; as usual, he's wearing his beloved straw hat, a gift from Shanks himself on the first day of art school when he was seven, a bag with his drawing supplies hanging from his shoulder "I'm so happy you're going to pose for us! I can't wait to introduce you to the others!"

He doesn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed at the prospect of an old and dear friend, with whom he has always had a purely platonic relationship, getting naked in front of him, and having to carefully observe her body to reproduce it on paper. Well, all the better for you, you think as you invite him to come in while you finish getting ready; Luffy is one of your dearest friends and you'd hate for shame or embarrassment to cause a rift between you.

"Just a minute, I need to put my shoes on."

"Take your time, we still have half an hour before class starts. You have anything good from your mom?"

You have no talent whatsoever in the kitchen, let alone the time and energy required to prepare something good to share with your friends or to reward yourself at the end of a long day of study and work, but you have the fortune to be the daughter of a capable baker, and your mother often gifts you the fruit of her labour - what is left of it when the bakery closes, that is: brownies, cookies, bread rolls and other delicacies, that Luffy appreciates as much as you do.

You tell him your mom brought you some gingerbread last night, when she stopped by to wish you good luck for your new job, and Luffy quickly finds it in the pantry. "I'm sure you'll do great today." he says as he happily munches gingerbread as if it were the last day of his life. He once asked you if your mother could hire him part time at the bakery, but you gently pointed out that in that case the shop would have nothing left to sell, since he would have eaten everything.

"I hope so!" you comment as you join him in the kitchen, shoes donned and bag under your elbow "I don't want to disappoint you, or your teacher. I mean, everything I have to do is simply sit there, right?"

"I guess so. Just make sure not to fall asleep. Our previous model, Buggy, did it, one day he had to stay a bit longer than usual. He fell off a stool and broke his nose."

"Oh, poor guy..." you comment, snickering despite yourself "Anyway, I drank a double espresso ten minutes ago, so I should be fine."

You leave the apartment together, walking unhurriedly towards the art school, which is only ten minutes away, in a quiet neighbourhood. "I can't wait for you to meet the others!" Luffy exclaims, almost skipping along the sidewalk; besides you, your friend is particularly close to a small group of classmates, who together with him have studied at the East Blue since they were children "I'm sure you'll love them, and they you."

"I hope so." you murmur, suddenly tense once more; Luffy's company and natural cheerfulness have momentarily distracted you from the anxiety filling your body at the prospect of having to take your clothes off in front of a group of strangers, but now that very uneasiness has returned, in addition to the worry of not making a good impression on Luffy's dearest friends. Why didn't I accept that job with the cleaning agency? I'm allergic to dust, but apart from that, it would have been perfect....

Unfortunately it is too late to change your mind, and even to turn on your heels and return home, leaving Luffy and his class in trouble, because your destination is just a minute away: a spacious, well-kept building, in which students of all ages take courses in drawing, painting, sculpture and photography. Despite the hour there are many people about, pupils, including many old enough to be your parents, walking to their classes, discussing their projects, and carrying art supplies of all types; a joyous, exciting chatter fills the air, the sounds of a place full of energy, of teaching and learning, where knowledge is cultivated and freely shared. The East Blue Art Academy is a well-reputed institute, and any candidate has to pass a rigorous exam in order to be accepted to the courses; you have no idea why Luffy's teacher has decided to hire a first-time model, but your friend has assured you Shanks can't wait to meet you.

Crossing the large double door, you find yourself in a large hall with floor-to-ceiling windows from which, Luffy tells you, it is possible to reach all the four main departments, where classes take place from early morning to late evening; a separate wing is being built to host a music school, and in the back there is also a small botanical garden, where some classes also take place, since any artist worthy of the name must learn to observe and reproduce nature.

It wouldn't be polite to keep Shanks waiting, especially not on your first day, but you linger for a minute, contemplating the decorated ceiling of the hall, the fresco representing a white-sailed ship with a figurehead carved in the shape of a sheep, sailing through the waves.

"We made this, you know." your friend proudly announces "My friends and I."

"You are kidding!"

"I'm not. The hall was renovated two years ago, and students were invited to submit their projects, individually or in group. Me and four other from my class, you'll meet them soon, won, and the rest is history; the guys from the painting department helped, but the idea is ours."

"I can't believe it, it's lovely..."

The ship sailing under the clear blue sky is a really beautiful scene, it evokes a sensation of freedom and joy that even you, who can't draw or paint to save your life and has no interest whatsoever in the field, can't help appreciating. Who knows where the small but sturdy vessel is going, and what adventures it is carrying its crew towards...

You are so focused on admiring the fresco, full of admiration for the talent of Luffy and his friends, you don't notice a young man literally burst in the room from another corridor and then, as if his life depended on it, run in the same direction you and your friend had started towards. He crosses the room at full speed, unaware of Luffy who waves at him, but he notices you, as you take a step back to admire the frescoed ceiling from a better perspective... and find yourself on the man's trajectory, who doesn't have the time to stop or dodge you.

"Aaaaahhhh...!!!"

Fortunately you don't hit your head, but the man falls right on you, his knee pressing on your stomach, making it impossible for you to breath for a minute. You hear Luffy emit a cry of surprise, and then he hurries to help the man to his feet, lifting him off you. "(name), are you all right? Zoro?"

"I'm fine." you both answer at the same time; the man bends to pick up the sketchbook and pencils that fell from his bag, checking they haven't been damaged, while you cautiously massage the area above your belly-button, already sure than Luffy and his classmates will have to draw a large bruise.

"You haven't been taught not to run inside, especially if there are so many people around?" you asks, as soon as you catch your breath; normally you would simply forget it, annoyed but still willing to let the incident slide to avoid an argument, but that guy could have seriously hurt you, on the first day of your new job!, not to mention how stressed you have felt all day "This is a school, not a running track!"

He looks at you, as clearly annoyed as you feel. "Nothing would have happened if you hadn't gotten in the way." he argues; he is tall, attractive, with bright green hair, a bandana tied around his arm and not one, but three scabbards, clearly not empty, hanging from a sash at his waist, an unexpected sight that makes you momentarily forget your argument "I know that ceiling looks nice, but why don't you look where you're going?"

"I wasn't going anywhere, I was practically standing still...!"

"Guys... guys, come on! There's no need to fight." Luffy intervenes, stepping between you and the green-haired man as if fearing you would soon come to blows "You're both all right. (name), this is Zoro, he's in the same class as me; Zoro, (name) is a good friend of mine, she's our new model."

You sigh, recognizing Zoro's name as one of those Luffy has mentioned most frequently when telling you about his classmates; from what you have heard, they are very good friends. Also, since this guy is apparently a student in the class you are going to pose for, you don't want him to complain about you with Shanks. Consequently...

"I see. Well, sorry if I made you stumble; I didn't mean to." you apologize, making an affort to sound more remorseful than you actually are; you slowly offer an hand, ready to pull it back the moment you perceive your peace offer is going to be refused, but Zoro must have reached the same decision as you, because he takes your hand and shakes it firmly.

"It's no problem; I'm sorry if I hurt you. So, uhm, you've already posed before?"

"No, it's my first time." you admit "I hope I won't be a disappointment for you guys and for Shanks."

Zoro shrugs, as if minimizing your fears - not with the intent to insult you, though. "Ah, don't worry; if you can stay still for a while you'll be ok. If that idiot Buggy could do it, anyone can."

You find yourself smiling, your resentment towards your friend's friend already forgotten; after all, you don't need any more negativity in your life. "I hope you're right."

"Well!" Luffy intervenes, happy to see peace return between the two of you, as he rests one hand on your shoulder and the other on Zoro's "Why don't we go to class? (name) has to meet Shanks before we begin."

You and Zoro follow him along a corridor, as Luffy, who has an almost preternatural ability to make friends wherever he goes, exchange greetings and smiles with most of the people whose path he crosses. According to your watch, your first day as a model will begin in less than fifteen minutes; you are still nervous, but you find yourself glancing at Zoro, still beside you. Why on earth has he carried three swords to a drawing class? Since nor Luffy nor the other students seem alarmed by it, it must be an habit of his; perhaps they are to be the subject of a drawing? Are they props? Will Shanks ask you to hold them as you pose for Luffy and the others?

You could ask him; still, there is something you are even more curious about. "Where were you going in such a hurry?" you inquire "It is still early for your class."

"Well..." Zoro rubs the back of his head, as if embarrassed by what he is going to reveal "I was afraid I would be late to class. Again."

"Oh. You got struck in traffic? Or were late after work?"

"No, I... couldn't find my way to class."

"... you moved to the school recently?"

"... no. I've been studying here since I was eight."

You are left reflecting on those words (he had lost his way to the classroom? Inside the school? After maybe ten years?!) as you glance inside some of the rooms, their doors left ajar, in which other classes are taking place; in one, a group of children are painting a vase of flowers the teacher has placed on a stool (even though most of the paint seems to have ended up on their faces!) while in another two older men are arranging what looks like a set for a photo shooting, with a large camera sitting on a tripod, umbrellas for controlling and diffusing the light, and a red collapsible backdrop. Posing for pictures, this is something you have already done, you reflect, even though in less formal contexts, during a birthday party or on holiday; of course, during those moments you always wore clothes...

"Here we are!" Luffy announces in the end; he bows at the waist next to the door of the classroom, jokingly inviting you to go in first "Shanks, this is (name)!"

The only man present in the room, busy organizing a large quantity of pencils and other drawing tools on a desk, turns to greet you all with a smile. Shanks is a tall man in his late thirties, with bright red hair. He offers you his right hand to shake; he has no choice, since his left arm is missing.

"It is very nice to meet you, sir." you politely greet him; Luffy had never mentioned his beloved teacher was an amputee, but after all, one does not need two hands to draw, does he? "Thank you for this opportunity, I hope you'll be satisfied."

Shanks invites you to call him by his name, like his students do. "I should be the one thanking you; you have no idea how hard it is to find a model."

"(name) is a bit embarrassed she has to pose naked." Luffy interjects while he and Zoro place their bags next to two of the stools.

"That's not true!" you protest, not wanting Shanks to doubt your motivation, or willingness to do what you are asked "I mean, it is just... the first time I take my clothes off... for a situation like this, I mean..."

Zoro, busy retrieving a large sketchbook from his bag five steps from you, grunts. "You know, we're not going to jump your bones as soon as you take your panties off." he points out. His tone, more brusque than what you would have expected from a person who has known you for ten minutes, doesn't give the impression he wants to insult or ridicule you, but you resent it all the same; wouldn't he be embarrassed to present himself to a group of strangers completely naked?

Maybe not; after all he is very fit, strong arms and (Zoro is now bending to retrieve a pencil from his bag) a firm backside. Who knows, you reflect as you quickly avert your gaze, perhaps for some people showing off their body is actually pleasant...

"It is perfectly normal to feel a bit of awkwardness in taking off your clothes." Shanks assures you kindly "What you have to remember, though, is that there is nothing immoral, or inappropriate, in posing. This is a perfectly respectable occupation, and as long as you are here, you'll be perfectly safe, and believe me, these students are all old and experienced enough to see you like any other subject; in the end, there is not much difference between a nude model and a bowl of fruit, they are simply something to reproduce on paper. No one will focus on your weight or your... intimate parts, if this is what you are worried about."

It is indeed, and Shanks' words do reassure you. Luffy, already perched on his stool, winks at you.

The classroom is sparsely furnished, with a desk covered with paper and drawing utensils, a few painting easels in a corner and twelve stools placed in a semi-circle all around an higher one, that you guess will be your work station; many books of all sizes are lined up on the shelves on the wall facing the door. A folding screen creates a corner with a chair and a small wall-mounted sink in which you can leave your things, undress in complete privacy... and wash away your make-up, like Shanks has asked you to do.

The students arrive while you prepare behind the screen, their chatting filling the room as they find their places; in the end you come out the screen, barefoot and wearing the dressing-gown you have brought with you.

"Guys and girls, this is (name); she'll be our model from now on." Shanks introduces you, and all the students smile and wave while you reach your stool, look at your feet as you disrobe, and sit. Shanks helps you strike a pose, with your knees apart, an hand resting on your lap and the other raised, and your face in profile; and after that, all you have to do is to remain still, which is at the same time the easiest thing ever and more than a little uncomfortable, especially considering the class is supposed to last for a whole hour.

Fortunately, Shanks was right in saying you had no reason to feel ill at ease. The students are clearly used to a naked model, since you perceive no embarrassment nor, even worse, any special interest in your body, and they are simply focused on faithfully reproducing your form on their sketchbooks; a pink-haired student whose name you don't catch mentions you have remarkably symmetrical thighs, while his friend, with long blonde hair, asks Shanks' help in deciding whether he drew your breast smaller than he should have.

None of the students moves for the first thirty minutes, the silence in the room only broken by the soft noise of the pencils rushing on the paper; even the sounds of the city outside, traffic and people arguing and the barking of a dog, sound muffled to your ears. Shanks walks among them, offering praises and gentle corrections, and inviting them to pay attention to the shape of (name)'s calf, look at the curve of it...

Luffy sits surrounded by his dearest friends, like a captain with his crew: you've heard him talk about them so many times it is as if you had already met them. There are Sanji, Usopp and Nami, and Zoro, who given the direction Shanks has asked you to look towards is right in front of you, so that you find yourself looking directly at him - for a whole hour. He is really attractive, you decide, perhaps more than most other men you know; with his athletic physique, and the elegant features of his face, he could be an excellent model, not necessarily an art one...

It is right then, while you are busy idly observing the little you can see from his body and decide that yes, he must be either an athlete or a gym fanatic, because no one who sits on his ass all day can have shoulders like those, let alone such well-defined biceps, that suddenly Zoro, who has been so focused on his drawing he seems to have forgotten the rest of the world, suddenly and quickly lifts his gaze, his dark eyes boring into you. You start, for a moment sure he has perceived your vaguely inappropriate thoughts, and with a mounting sense of panic you feel yourself going red in the face, as it often happens when you are embarrassed. What has gotten into you?, you chide yourself; and you were embarrassed the others would look at you?!

"Is everything all right, (name)?" Shanks asks, making you jump again.

"Yes! I mean... I'm fine." you stutter; a few of the students glance at you from above their sketchbooks.

"Good. Can you please left your hand a little more?"

You comply, making an effort not to look directly at Zoro even though your face is turned exactly in his direction, silently apologizing to him.

After a while, Luffy lifts his hand. "Shanks, can I approach her?"

"All right; as usual, you have ten minutes. (name), Luffy will now approach you."

"'k." you answer, making an effort to speak without moving your lips, and to remain as still as a statue, even though your left arm has started hurting.

Your friend stands from his stool and comes to kneel in front of you, his sketchbook balanced on his thigh; the pretext is to observe your face up close, but Luffy takes the opportunity to meet your eyes and smile at you, before raising an eyebrow questioningly; all good?, he's silently asking you, perhaps feeling secretly responsible since he was the one who begged you to come pose for them. You make sure Shanks is busy helping another student, and wink at him. All good, don't worry.

Luffy, who knows you well enough he could easily draw your face from memory, remains at your feet for a few minutes, after which a few of the other students also ask Shanks permission to approach one by one. Zoro is the last, and he looks... disgruntled, brows furrowed as he observes you, intent as if he had to solve a complex mathematical equation; he looks down at his drawing, that you can't see, then back at you, and he grimaces, clearly unsatisfied. You force yourself not to squirm, unsure of the reason for his discontent but sure it is somehow your fault.

In the end, you are almost caught off-guard when Shanks announces only five minutes are left before the end of the class; you had completely lost track of time. The students hurry to polish their drawings while they have you there in front of them, even though they will have another hour to work on them, and after that you'll have to assume another pose for the next two classes.

"You were great!" Luffy exclaims in the end as he helps you stand from the stool, your legs stiff after the innatural position you kept them in for an hour; you smile, as usually amused and touched at the same time by your friend's enthusiasm, while the other students start gathering their things.

"Thank you, but after all it was you guys who did all the work; I just had to sit there and look... still." you point out as you retrieve your night gown and put it back on.

"Well, you did it very well. You want to see my drawing?"

You actually couldn't wait to, and most of the other students gladly let you see theirs as well. They are all very good, you decide as you examine the sketchbooks one by one, obviously different in style but all quite life-like; Nami's is probably the best, even though Luffy's is the one you like the most. You look at them, those portrait the young artists have drawn without masking the imperfections and the parts of your body you are embarrassed of, but striving to do justice to it all the same. You don't consider yourself a vain person, a self-centered one even less, but you wish you could hang all of them in your apartment and keep them close forever, because for some reason you feel as if each of those young men and women, most of which you don't even know, now are in possession of a small part of you...

Zoro is the sole who, seeing his classmates offer you their sketchbooks and ask for your opinion, is quick to shove his in his bag; your eyes meet, and he quickly looks away, as if he had something to hide. What a weird guy! Handsome... but weird.

"So, how did it go?" Shanks asks as the students say goodbye and unhurriedly line to leave; you smile at him, much more enthusiastic than an hour before.

"I must admit, I had fun; I'm sorry if you had to correct my position."

"That's all right, you are not a statue after all, and you did very well. So..." the teacher smiles, as if already knowing what you are going to answer "You want to do it again?"

You absolutely do, and Shanks shows you the schedule for his classes, both group ones and private; you'll be busy five evenings a week, for one or two hours at a time, which works just fine for you.

"Me and the guys are going to grab a drink in a place down the road." Luffy tells you "Wanna come?"

"Are you sure? I mean, if you'd rather be among you..."

Luffy looks at you strangely, as if he didn't understand the reasoning behind your indecision. "You are my friend, and now theirs as well." he points out "Why wouldn't we want you there?"

Reassured, you tell him that you'll be happy to come; the truth is you had a long day (your own classes in the morning, a long shift at the Party's in the afternoon, and now an hour of posing after which you feel more than a little sore) and are consequently pretty tired, but you feel well and want to know Luffy's school friends better. He tells you they'll wait for you outside, since Sanji needs a smoke, and you promise you'll make it quick.

Shanks leaves as well, needing to talk to another teacher, so that you are soon alone in the classroom, getting dressed and then retrieving your bag and nightgown. You are really in a good mood: your new job promises to be interesting and even fun, and who knows, perhaps you will even meet some new friends...

At least you think you are alone, but you stand corrected when, coming out from behind the screen, you find yourself face to face with a person, leaning against the wall close to the classroom's door, arms folded, clearly waiting... for you.

Zoro.

"Hi again." you say, a little uncertain; you doubt he waited to accompany you out... unless he is the one who needs to be guided, since apparently he gets lost easily "I'm sorry if I kept you guys waiting..."

Zoro shakes his head; his hand is now resting on the handle of one of his words, a casual gesture clearly dictated by habit. "I'm not coming tonight. I wish I could, but my... father is waiting for me."

"I see. So, uhm, you wanted to tell me something...?"

"Actually... I know we just met, but I have a favour to ask you."

Zoro bites his lip (something you have always found attractive in a man, which makes you smile for a moment), as if embarrassed of having to bother a person he barely knows... or perhaps of the favour itself.

"Go ahead."

"Well... I need you to pose for me."

Zoro tells you that figure drawing (that is, drawing the human form, either by observation of a live model or otherwise) has always been hard for him, much more than drawing a still life, buildings or any sort of scenes; he is usually at the same level of, or even better than, his classmates, but when he has to draw an human body, either that of a model or copying from a book or even simply relying on his imagination, he somehow suddenly forgets how to hold a pencil, not to mention everything he knows about proportions and perspective. He does his best, really, he practices and practices, he has a whole stack of sketchbooks filled from cover to cover with drawings, studies and portraits, but he is still unsatisfied - and behind what is expected from a person who has been an art student since he was six. Even kind, encouraging and less-strict-than-most-teachers Shanks had to admit his life drawings are of a much lower quality than the rest of his works.

What do you draw exactly, stick figures?, you are about to ask, and maybe you would if you were talking to Luffy or someone you know well. "I'm sorry to hear that; it must be very frustrating."

"It is; so I was wondering... well, if you'd be ok with posing for me, to practice." he goes on, shifting his weight from one leg to the other; asking another person for help, and consequently having to admit his shortcomings, seems almost physically painful for him "I do marginally better with a model, but two classes a week are not enough."

"Haven't you asked Luffy or one of the others?" you wonder, imagining that his friends would be happy to help, especially being artists themselves "Well, maybe not Luffy, he'd never be able to stay still for ten minutes, let alone a whole hour..."

"He really couldn't. And I tried, but I get distracted if I know the other person. I know you are busy with school and your other job, but would you be available? I would pay you, of course."

You tell him you could never accept money from one of Luffy's friends, especially not from a student like you. "I have yet to learn how to teleport or how to be in two places at the same time, but if we can find a moment we are both free, I'll be happy to help you."

"Are you sure?" Zoro asks; he seems taken aback, as if he expected you to refuse, or to have to beg you "You don't mind...?"

"I just discovered I actually like posing, and Luffy's friends are mine." you easily answer "Shall I come to your place? Do you live nearby?"

You quickly discover you live a couple of blocks away from each other, close enough you can easily walk from home, or from the Partys', to the house Zoro lives in with his adoptive father. You decide to meet on Sunday afternoon, which will allow you to sleep very late and still do something constructive during the day, especially if you bring a book or your notes with you to review as you pose.

Finally, Zoro smiles, relieved and happy; he has a lovely smile, you notice, as well as a lovely face, which makes you wonder if he ever tried drawing himself... "Thank you. (name), really... I owe you big time."

"One day maybe you can buy me a pizza or something." you easily answer, not meaning anything specific by it (namely, not a date) but simply thinking back at that time Luffy helped you move to your new flat and you bought him dinner to thank him (and almost went bankrupt) "Do you mind if we walk as we talk? I think Luffy and the others are waiting for me."

Zoro opens the door for you and then follows you towards the school's hall; despite the late hour, many classes are still in session. For you this is a job, something that as much as you enjoy it you need to pay for your bills and food, but these people, the students of all ages who spend their evenings here instead that at home or enjoying their free time after a day of school or work, choose to do it and pay for the courses themselves. They do it for passion, hoping to turn an hobby in a job, to improve their skills with the pencil (or the brush, or the camera...) or simply to spend time doing what they love, without concern for the future or retribution.

It is nice, you decide, feeling strangely wistful for a moment; who knows if you'll ever find something to be so passionate about...

"Luffy says you're studying to become an accountant." Zoro says after a while, as you walk next to him, your muscles still a bit sore after an hour of stillness.

"I do; there is absolutely nothing artistic about it." you laugh.

"But you like it?"

"Many people think it is the most boring and arid profession in the world, but I like it a lot, actually."

"There you go then." he considers in a tone of approval "Who cares about what other people think?"

You smile back, and that sudden, pleasant confidentiality pushes you to ask a question of your own. "If I may... what do you carry those around for?"

"You mean my swords?"

"Yes. I have seen some original fashion accessories, but a weapon, never."

Zoro grins, openly amused, as he gently grabs the hilt of one of the swords, pure white, in a protective gesture... or maybe to show you how ready he is to draw it on a moment's notice "I use them; I'm a swordsman, I have been training since I was five." he proudly explains.

"And you use three of them?!"

"Exactly. One in each hand, the third in my mouth."

You can barely imagine a scene like the one he is describing (seriously, how can he use a sword holding it like that? Does he have a prehensile tongue?) but Zoro is clearly serious, which fills you with admiration. "So you are an artist and a sportsman!" you exclaim; it is strange, but somehow fitting as well, to imagine a person's hands having the strength to handle a weapon, and at the same time being delicate enough to use a pencil... two opposite, but equally beautiful, ways to channel his energy "Talk about the total package! I knew you were an athlete..."

"What do you mean?"

"... nothing. Err, do you attend a fencing school as well?"

By the time Zoro has finished telling you about his adoptive father, who has been his fencing instructor since he was old enough to hold a practice sword and who then adopted him when he was fourteen, you have reached Luffy and the others, waiting on or around a bench in the school's parking lot.

"Speaking about my father..."

"Yes?"

Zoro stops, forcing you to do the same. "I wouldn't normally do it, but Luffy says I can trust you." he says, looking at you right in the eyes as if warning you against disappointing your friend's trust in you, as well as his "My adoptive father... he doesn't know I study here. He wants me to focus on fencing, so when I was fourteen and I went to love with him, he asked me to leave the school; I told him I had but..."

"... you obviously didn't." you finish for him "And he doesn't know you come here, three times a week? And you had for years?"

He tells you it is not always easy to hide he spends many of his evenings at the schools, but fortunately he's old enough his father doesn't feel the need to keep track of his movements, and his friends and employer (his friend Kuina's father) cover for him. "It has been easier since I came of age, since now I can at least use the money my biological parents have left me to pay for the school. Before that I was a step away from selling my... well..."

"I see." you say, sincerely touched; poor Zoro, forced to hide something he loves doing because he fears disappointing his father, or being forced to abandon it. Isn't he old enough to decide what to do with his life? "What's your father's name?"

"Dracule Mihawk."

"I don't think I've ever met him, but if this is what worries you, I'll keep your secret; I promise I won't tell anyone. If you want, you can come to my place to draw; I don't mind, and you can simply tell your father you're visiting a friend."

"Are you sure?" Zoro asks; he seems... taken aback, as if he didn't expect such support from a person he has just met and who has refused to be paid for her trouble. But, not to sound presumptuous, helping people who pursue their dreams and passions comes natural to you; you wouldn't be Luffy's friend otherwise "That... would be perfect actually. My father usually comes home late in the evening, so we would be more or less safe at my place, but..."

"Why risk getting caught, if we can avoid it?" you reasonably point out "I... can come pick you up, if you want; to show you the way."

You quickly exchange contacts, and you find yourself smiling; becoming an accountant is still your first ambition, but the prospect of beginning a new career as a model is exciting. Even though the thought of taking your clothes off in front of someone you just met is still weird... especially if your public will be composed of a single man, in the more intimate context of your apartment...

Technically speaking, you have invited a man to your home to look as you get naked; the thought makes you blush again, even though you felt perfectly at ease as you posed for the students. Pull yourself together, (name)! After all, he wouldn't be the first, would he? Even though, it has been a long time since...

"So... we have a deal?"

"We have. I can't wait to pose for you - I mean, I'm happy to help you."

"I'll try not to waste your time then." Zoro promises with a new smile, happy and relieved, and you think he should do it more often, because he looks even more lovely when he does it... "Thank you, (name); really, I appreciate it."

You tell him not to mention it, and by now you have reached Luffy and the others, who have attentively listened to your conversation.

"Sorry I kept you guys waiting."

"No problem. You sure you can't come, Zoro?" Luffy asks, clearly disappointed he cannot have all his friends with him; he shakes his head, apologetic and sorry in the reserved, vaguely introverted attitude you have already learnt to know.

"Sorry, next time, I promise."

He grins at you. "See you soon."

"See you on Sunday, Zoro."

You wink at him, and he waves as he looks at you walking to Luffy and your new friends.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Roronoa Zoro #Roronoa Zoro x reader #Mackenyu #Bellona's stuff

[marvelwitchergilmore]

To You

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> Joel comes home from patrol one night to find you in the living room with a busted lip and a black eye. 

Disclaimer: Jackson-era Joel, mentions of violence, maybe a little angst, blood, kissing, death, fluff. Not proof read.

Funnily enough, you had actually met Joel back in Boston. Him and Tess had been two smugglers your friends often turned to when they needed supplies. You had met him a couple of times but no more than a few sentences were exchanged. 

One night, whilst not being able to sleep, you happened to see someone making their way, avoiding the looks of the guards. At first, you thought it was a Firefly but you knew them when they were under the cover of darkness, this wasn’t that. Maybe another smuggler? 

Either way, you needed out. 

So, you followed him. 

Turns out it was Joel’s brother, Tommy. 

You’d seen him a couple of times, too. Over the years. Usually, he was with his brother. More often than not, you’d actually think Tommy was his son rather than his brother, Joel being that fierce to protect him. Everyone had lost someone in this war. You’d figured, with the way Joel was with Tommy, that Tommy (and Tess) were the only real reasons he was sticking around. 

But then you saw him again when he came to Jackson. 

Ellie. 

Tommy had told you a little about what Joel had told him, about what they had faced when making their way to Jackson, when he saw you at the barn that night. 

And you saw them around the town in the day. But there was just something about Joel. Seeing him across the way, you knew something wasn’t right. Like his heart was about to leap from his chest before it crushed his soul. 

But it wasn’t until they returned a few months later that you actually began to know them. 

Joel was placed with you every Sunday in the bar, serving customers and patrol men who needed a good drink after a long week. Both of you were kept pretty busy so it wasn’t until Maria decided to put you both on patrol together every Thursday night that your relationship began to grow. 

You learnt more about his life before the world went to shit. He learnt about you, and how you had been a professor beforehand. Mostly, for you, that was volunteering at the local community college. That was why, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday you took most of the kids to the gardens, teaching them about plants and the earth and everything they needed to know in order to survive - to live. 

Ellie was keen to learn. 

It was the first time she didn’t have such a shitty school. 

She’d come home to Joel every afternoon and she’d ramble on about all what she had learned. In the meantime, with Joel helping out with construction and building around Jackson, her math excelled. She helped Joel out on the weekends, not wanting to really leave his side. 

She even fixed the fences around the gardens after lessons. That was when you’d find her, finishing up the job and walk her home to Joel. 

Although it did worry him, her not being back at her usual time, he was proud of her. She was proud of herself. She was getting a normal life. 

And, somewhere in between the patrol nights, teaching his daughter, and tending to the bar together, you came together. 

And, oddly, it was an easy transition. 

You and Joel were close to being with. You both knew what it had been like in Boston. You’d both done things to get where you were. You both had something in you that made sure that everyone knew not to come near either of you. 

Tommy called it Family. 

Maria - she also called it Family. But only after she referred to all of you as a family of feral cats that would kill before they let anything happen to anyone of you. 

Except, one night, the shifts had been changed. 

With some new people coming into Jackson, they needed training. So, you had decided to take on the job. You had a free Saturday and Ellie was starting to make friends so they’d be at the Barn watching a bunch of old movies and by the time she’d get back, Joel would already be home. 

But, after a few weeks, Joel came back home late from work.

Entering through the front door, he was introduced into darkness, at first. But, then as he hung up his coat and turned into the living room, he found you sitting by the dim light of the lamp. 

His demeanor changed instantly. Without hesitation, he rushed forward and began checking you over. 

“I’m fine, Joel.”

“Who did this to you?” 

His voice was deep. Dark, even. He was ready to kill whoever had touched you. 

You laid a hand over his wrist where his hand gently touches your cheek. Carefully, he sat down beside you, his knees knocking into the side of yours. 

“It’s nothing-”

“It’s not nothing!” 

You shushed him, softly. “Don’t yell. You’ll wake Ellie.”

He looked back to the stairs for a moment. You were right. 

He relaxed for a moment. At least you were home. You were alive and home and safe - very little for what he could say about whoever had hurt you. 

Standing, he walked across the floor into the kitchen and pulled open a cupboard before walking back with the first aid kid and a bag of ice. 

“Thanks.”

“What happened?” He asked as he sat on the coffee table in front of you before taking out the antiseptic and some cotton wool. 

You didn’t answer for a moment, just holding the ice to your temple. God, your head was pounding. 

“Darlin’-”

“I took care of it, Joel.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he placed the kit down. “But you’ve got a busted lip and a black eye. You can’t tell me that, that wasn’t nothing.”

You sighed. “Look, I got in a fight. The guy was a piece of shit and took care of it.”

“What did he do?” Joel asked you, and when you didn’t reply, he repeated the question. 

“He hit on me,” You finally answered. 

If this was any other day, yourself and Joel might have laughed it off. Joel would agree with them - if they were so new that the news that you were taken hadn’t reached them yet. To Joel, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever met. You were also the first, even before Tess, that he could actually allow himself to feel the way you felt for him. 

That would be something, with Tess, he’d regret. 

But when he met you, he had another chance. A chance to be happy and a chance to open up. He was healing and eventually, he let you be a part of that process. 

“What?” Joel straightened up, his voice doing dark again. 

“It wasn’t anything big. But I knew. He backed off immediately once I told him. Even apologized.” Joel took it that this wasn’t the guy who needed a beating on. And he was right. “It was his friend. We all got back and headed into the bar. Maria wanted to talk to me about something. When I came out, his friend was there waiting for me. I don’t think Young even knew.” 

Young was the guy who had been training on patrol with you the last two weeks. Tonight had been the night when he’d finally plucked up the courage to start flirting with you. But, as you told Joel, he backed off right away. He even said “sorry” and told her that Joel was a lucky guy. 

You weren’t afraid to agree with him on that statement (even if sometimes you thought it was the other way around). You were lucky to have Joel, too. And Ellie. 

A life you never thought you’d ever get to see. Better yet, have. 

“Anyway, he started following me. He was pissed I’d turned Young down then somewhere between me saying he should back off and him saying Young was a good guy, he thought that maybe it was him that I wanted.” You explained before relaying the story to Joel. 

Xavier, Young’s ‘friend’ - although, from the fact that when Young talked about Xavier, it seemed more of a dealing friendship; you help me, I’ll help you, kinda thing - had followed you as you walked through the main streets of Jackson. 

All you wanted was to get home and crawl into bed with Joel and fall asleep. 

He began, rather viciously, asking you about why you had said “No.” to Young and before you knew it, he was by your side, gripping you tighter and harassing you before you managed to break free for a moment and punched him straight across the face. 

That was when things took a violent turn. 

You had given Xavier the opportunity to walk away. Tommy had already warned you to try and not hurt anyone. He’d seen you when you became violent - he’d been there when you saved his life more times than he could count as you both made your way to Jackson - and he didn’t want to lock you up exactly because then that left Joel and Ellie to protect you - their Family. 

It was just easier for everyone if people understood to leave you alone and not try anything ‘funny’. 

Clearly, after 3 weeks in Jackson, Xavier hadn’t gotten that message. 

So, you gave it to him. 

He had been on the ground, bleeding when you left him. 

But he was smart. 

He jumped you a few streets away from your home. 

But clearly not smart enough, because it happened to be a few doors down from Tommy and Maria’s. 

Xavier had attacked you, punching you clean across the face. You fought back and when he pulled a blade on your side, you gave him hell. 

Tommy had come rushing out and checked you over before heading over to Xavier, where he lay on the floor, bleeding and broken. 

Maria came to look over. “Tommy, take him to lock-up. I’ll get Frankie to check him over in the morning.”

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, looking at you. 

You wiped the back of your hand on your lip. Blood. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“I should-” You held out a hand to Maria and shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Ellie’s at home. I don’t want her getting worried.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and forced a smile through the pain. “Honestly.”

“Okay,” Maria replied, a little defeated. “But I’m sending someone round tomorrow if you don’t come to me by 11.”

You smiled, and laughed a little. “Okay.”

In the meantime, Tommy had dragged Xavier’s ass all the way to lock-up and left a note by Frankie’s door for the morning. 

And, now, here you were. 

“Just…don’t mention this to Ellie.” You told Joel, “I don’t want her worrying.”

“Too late.”

You and Joel both looked to the stairs. 

“And I don’t see how you could have hid this from me. It’s clear on your face.”

Ellie walked down the rest of the stairs from where she had been sitting. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Joel asked. 

“Couldn’t sleep. You got back late.”

Joel nodded. “I know. They’d put up the wrong beams and- it doesn’t matter.”

Ellie sat by your side. 

“You’re bleeding.” She pointed out as she saw the small patch of red by your clothes. 

You moved your arm and looked down. You’d only just dressed it. 

Joel looked from Ellie then to your wound. You had told him that Xavier had tried to cut you. Not that he had. 

Gently, he held your elbow up so your arm was out of the way of the cut. 

Joel gave you a look. “I know, I know.” you said before you pulled your arm back to lower it. 

“I’ll go and get the towels.” Ellie said. 

Joel nodded. “But then you’re going to bed.”

“But-”

“No. You don’t need to worry about this-”

“Yeah, well, I’m gunna.”

“Joel’s right, Ellie.” You added. “Besides, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“It already is tomorrow.”

“Even better. Today. You’re helping Tommy, remember?”

“All the more reason to stay up.” 

Joel shook his head. “Ellie.”

Ellie groaned. “Fine.”

Once she brought down the towels and a large bowl of warm water, she begrudgingly went back up stairs and lay down in bed, mostly staring at the ceiling. 

She turned onto her side when she could hear the rumbles of you and Joel talking which, although she didn’t want it to, lulled her into a deep sleep. 

“You should have told me.”

“It slipped my mind.” You said as Joel fiddled with the hem of your t-shirt before lifting it up and over your head. 

You turned your body at an angle and lifted your arm - although your body screamed for it to be lowered again. 

With a care that only you (and Ellie) saw from Joel, his fingers lightly brushed the wound as he cleaned it with the cotton. 

“Sure it did.”

“Shut up.”

The rest of the time was spent in silence as Joel concentrated on your wound. After a while, he took your hands in his and helped you stand. 

“You okay?”

You nodded before he unrolled the beginnings of the bandage and began to wrap it around your wound. To be safe, he then wrapped a second one around in the opposite way, making sure you could still breath but that it was secure enough. 

Mostly, the second bandage was a safety layer but he’d help you change it again the next night. Maria would probably supply you with some extra, just to be safe. 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joel asked as he returned with one of his t-shirts from the fresh pile of laundry in the kitchen that he presumed Ellie had folded when she got bored but didn’t want to go outside. 

You shook your head as Joel helped you put on his t-shirt, gently tugging your hair from the back of the collar so it didn’t remain trapped. 

“I just want to get into bed and sleep.”

Joel gave you a soft smile before pulling you in and placing a soft kiss to your temple where you leaned into his touch. 

“Come on,”

Both you and Joel, however, before going into your bedroom, stood in the doorway of Ellie’s room. 

There she was, fast asleep, lightly snoring. She’s safe. 

Joel placed another kiss to your head, and an arm around your waist lightly, silently telling you they should get to bed. 

You nodded and once Joel had quietly shut Ellie’s bedroom door, being careful not to disturb her, he helped you slide into your side of the bed, holding the covers back as you did so. 

From where, you tiredly watched him as he got ready for bed before finally, he slipped under the covers himself and lay beside you, holding you close. 

He placed a few soft kisses to your lips, your hand coming up to hold his cheek until finally, your hand still on his cheek, he kissed your forehead and held you closer, being careful to not hurt your side. 

It was a silent I love you, and Goodnight, before you fell fast asleep, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat as you did so. 

As Joel held you close, he thought about what would happen when they woke up. And, if he ever saw Xavier, he’d probably kill him. 

If you hadn’t spoke to him the way you did, and held him the way you did, he would have left there and then and probably killed the man on the spot. 

But that could wait until later. 

Right now, all that mattered was the fact that Ellie was safely sleeping down the hall, and he had you in his arms. Maybe a little hurt, but you were safe with him. With both him and Ellie.

You and Ellie are his family. 

He’d never let anything happen to either of you. Nor, would he let anyone get away with anything, either. 

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #ellie miller #joel miller x fe!reader #fluff #tommy miller #maria miller #angst #who did this to you #wounds #love #established relationship #the last of us x you #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller x reader #joel and ellie #tlou #tlou fan fic #tlou hbo #tlou x reader #tlou x you #tlou joel miller #tlou joel #tlou ellie #ellie x platonic reader

[forever-fixating]

Some Sentences Monday?

Tagged by the ever-awesome @priincebutt

Okay, so I know this is meant for Sundays, but ya boi was destroyed from work and completely overstimulated so I had nothing in the tank. But after hibernating most of today, I am emerging ready to share a new project I have in the works. Getting such amazing response for Love on the Menu has really invigorated my desire to work, and now my mind is running with ideas. I've been toying with the idea of writing a historical AU for a while now, so allow me to introduce:

I don't have an official summary for it yet, but to overhype myself, this story has everything: childhood sweethearts separated by tragedy, rivaling nations full of political intrigue, magick because I've been dying to write a fantasy AU as well so por que no los dos, a tournament where the grand prize of the joust is the hand in marriage of our sweet Henry, a cliffhanger that I am so excited to write but that I know will enrage everyone that reads it...get ready, yall!

Below the cut is a massively long teaser. Forgive the roughness of it. I am just so geeked to share it, but just know I'll be working on it until it's ready. Enjoy! (If you'd like a soundtrack for this, might I suggest Surrender by Natalie Taylor?)

The air was perfumed with the scent of springtime blossoms. Beneath the shade of a great willow tree were two young lovers. One was flaxen-haired, his ivory skin rosy from the sun and littered with constellations of freckles. His body and limbs were slender and knobbly, still in that awkward phase between boy and man. His light blue eyes studied his companion with unguarded adoration. The other young man was shorter in stature, but rigorous exercise had already defined his physique. Atop his head was an untamed mass of sable curls, still wet from swimming. His unblemished skin gleamed a rich russet shade that his fairer companion couldn't stop touching. The pair had completed their lessons for the day and decided to take a refreshing dip in the lake near their school. They were naked, hidden among the willow branches, like two woodland nymphs from a fable and not two princes from separate nations. The dark-haired boy Alex lifted his lover Henry's hand and kissed the signet ring on his pinkie finger. The ring's face held not a family crest but their initials. A promise.

"When we are married-"

"You mustn't say such things!" Henry laughed even as his stomach fluttered at the very prospect. "It isn't proper."

Alex leaned down to press a kiss against rose-petal lips. "A man must state his intentions plainly, and mine are to marry you, cariño."

"You are not yet seventeen, cariad," Henry said as Alex trailed kisses along his jaw and neck. In this sacred space, it was easy to get lost in the rose-tinted fantasy of their future together. He tangled his fingers in Alex's curls, tugging at the roots. "Our parents would say it is unwise to speak of such things at our age."

"Why," Alex hissed as he climbed over Henry's body, "are you mentioning our parents when I am trying to ravish you?"

Henry arched his body into that of his beloved, gasping, "You have ravished me twice already this afternoon. Is that not enough?"

"Never."

As the twin suns began their steady descents into the horizons, the young lovers got dressed and made their way back to the school. Fireflies glowed in hues of pink, orange, and yellow as the pair discussed their plans for the following day. Given their disheveled states of dress, they were wary of running into Headmistress Beaufort or one of their professors as they made their way back to their dormitory. Unfortunately, fate was not on their side, and they rounded a corner and nearly crashed into Professor Wagner. He was a squat toad of a man who taught history and hated Alex for his frequent interruptions during lessons. His face held a perpetual bitter expression, as though he had just sucked on an unripen lemon. He berated them for looking and acting beneath their station and gave them detention for the following fortnight working in the stables with Gerald the groundskeeper. (It wasn't the punishment the man thought it was. They enjoyed Gerald's company, especially when he was joined by Julian, the music professor. Henry was convinced they were in love, but Alex said he was delusional.)

They scrambled upstairs to their shared dorm room to change. Dinner was already in progress when they joined their social set in the dining hall. Alex's older sister June was discussing a novel with Henry's twin sister Beatrice while their best friends Percy and Nora played cards. As Henry took his spot between Bea and Pez, his sister poked at the poorly concealed love mark Alex had gifted him earlier and teased, "My dear brother, it would appear you have been mauled by pixies. Should we alert Gerald of a possible infestation?"

Alex, seated across from him between June and Nora, snorted into his goblet, and Henry kicked his skin beneath the table. Giving his sister a tight smile that told her he knew exactly at what she was playing, he said defensively, "It was only a single, annoying pixie. Hardly cause for alarm."

"Annoying?" Henry's stomach filled with regret the moment the words left his mouth at Alex's fallen expression. He looked away from Henry. "Perhaps the pixie will direct their attention elsewhere if they are such a nuisance."

Alex would not meet his eye for the remainder of the meal. Once Headmistress Beaufort dismissed the students for the evening, Alex was up like a shot. Henry felt the disapproval of their friends and loved ones as he stood and trailed after Alex like a lovesick puppy. When Henry reached the common room of their dormitory, he found Alex chatting with Liam, the son of a nobleman from his home country. While he knew there was no danger of them forming an attachment, jealousy sparked in his chest, hot and ugly. He strode over to them and said, "Alex, I wish to speak with you."

Alex's expression was that of cool indifference. "Yes?"

Ignoring Liam and tugging on Alex's arm, Henry insisted, "In private."

Alex rolled his eyes but stood, shoving past Henry to their dorm room. Henry didn't look at Liam but hurried after Alex. He passed some of their classmates roughhousing in the hallway. Alex's ire was quick to be provoked, but Henry hoped he could dampen it with gentle words of apology and a gift. Their dorm room was on the far end of the hallway to the right. When Henry entered, Alex was sitting on the window seal. Henry closed the door.

"Cariad-"

"You would be wise not to call me that right now," Alex snapped, not looking at him.

Henry bit his bottom lip. Pushing away from the door, he crossed the cross to retrieve a parcel he received earlier that day from his bedside table. Though he protested Alex's pure words down by the lake, Henry's heart ached at the very thought that Alex thought himself alone in this affection. Henry was naturally cautious when it came to matters of the heart. While his parents had a romance for the bards to write neverending songs about and supported his inclinations, his grandmother Queen Mary still held final sway over who her grandchildren would marry. While Alex's country was a rising power, full of untapped resources and potential, Mary looked down her nose at their progressive politics and rising status among the nations. But despite the perceived impossibility of their future together, Henry found himself desperately in love with Alex all the time.

Henry knelt in front of his wounded lover and placed the parcel in his lap. Alex finally looked at him before glancing down and asking, "What is this?"

"An apology and response."

Alex picked it up and tore away the plain brown paper. Revealed was a red velvet bag. Henry's heart raced as Alex opened the bag and pulled out a small golden key on a silver chain. The bow of the key, intertwined in delicate filigree, was their initials, much like the ring that rested on Henry's hand.

As Alex studied it, Henry said, "My words earlier were foolish and hurtful. The truth is that I am afraid of the end of term. Things as they are now seem too perfect and golden. I...I fear once we are parted, reality will make you realize I am not worthy, that you will find someone more suitable for-"

"You believe me to be easily swayed?" Alex snapped. Henry looked up to see frustration and sadness in his eyes. He reached down to yank Henry's hand that held the signet ring to eye level. "Is this not proof enough of my love for you? Is it not enough that I say I love you? If this is an apology, it is a very poor one, Henry."

Henry climbed on the window seal with Alex, desperate to be understood, tears in his eyes. "It is an explanation. I am scared, Alex. I know we are young, but I know in my heart I will never feel for another what I feel for you. But when my grandmother finds out about us, she will stop at nothing to keep us apart. Does that challenge not give you pause?"

"Cariño," Alex whispered, cupping Henry's face, the necklace dangling from his fingers, "I would slay a thousand dragons, cross the Great Salt Desert, and brave the bitterest frozen peaks if that's what it took to make you mine. You may fear your grandmother, but I do not. There is no one else for me but you."

Henry took the chain from Alex's hand and placed it around his neck. Pressing his hand over the key, Henry said, "As you are for me. I want to be brave like you. I want you to know you are not alone. This key is a symbolic gesture, the key to my heart. My promise to be true."

Two young lovers, bathed in moonlight and their love for one another, making a vow as true as the gods had ever heard. Perhaps it was their youth that gave them pause, or the sincerity in which the vows were given. Whatever it was, the gods took note and, in their mercurial way, decided to put that devotion to the test.

The skies were clear that night as Alex and Henry clung to each other, but they could not see the storm brewing on the distant horizon. A challenge.

Tagging @dragonflylady77 @onthewaytosomewhere @theplayfulfairy and anyone else who scribbles and is interested.

#yall are not ready #a tournament for his heart #some sentence sunday #tagging game #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #rwrb #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #WIP

[jungle-angel]

Take it Easy (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Stress is really getting to you, but luckily, your husband knows what to do

You were stressed out beyond words, the ache in your neck and the side of your head practically throbbing. Your eyes burned with the onset of tears and felt as though they were going to pop right out of your head. 

It has started at the hippie school you taught at, your eighth graders on edge from the onset of spring fever, the stress of having to plan main lesson blocks for the next three months and meetings with the other teachers and staff. You were so dead set on getting everything in on time that you had forgotten to eat lunch and during the last hour of the day, you had mixed up the dismissal time and nearly sent everyone home too early. 

Everything just kept piling up, the stress from school, you and Rhett trying to keep up with the ranch work and everything else in between. You wanted nothing more than to run across the street to the church, hide in the confessional and just cry. 

On the way home, you had gotten a text from Royal stating that Diesel had wound up on the wrong side of a porcupine encounter. You had begun to wonder how that loveable ding-dong of a Rottweiler managed to get himself into shit like that and only have to spend one night at the vet’s. 

You pulled the truck to a stop and parked it in front of the garage, practically stumbling up to the door and hanging your bag up in the mudroom. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears started to flow, your body aching horribly and your eyes and throat burning with emotion. 

You parked it at the kitchen table, burying your face in hour arms as a shuddering sob broke you from all around. You didn’t even notice the sound of wheels on the driveway gravel, the shutting of another truck door or the door in the mudroom opening and shutting. 

“Darlin?” Rhett called. “Sweetheart? (Y/n) you in here?” 

You wearily lifted your head, your lips reddened along with your eyes and your neck sorer than ever. You couldn’t even croak out a response, not even when he saw the sorry look on your face. Rhett dropped his backpack near the island counter and made his way over to the table, taking your hand in his, waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, Rhett knew something was wrong. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

You nodded a little. 

“Alright darlin,” he said, inching a little closer. “You go first.” 

You told him everything, how exhausted you felt, the worry that was on your mind and everything else that had been eating you since early that morning. Rhett took you right into his arms and held you as your tears stained his shirt. 

“Baby I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“I’m just so stressed,” you croaked. 

“I know,” Rhett replied, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I know. I had a rough day too.” 

You listened as Rhett told you about a little fiasco that had happened earlier in the afternoon when he had been helping Father O’Keefe down at St. Mike’s. The youth pastor had called out sick and Rhett had offered to fill in even though Rhett didn’t usually help until Sunday after services. Well, sure enough, the group was all boys from the high schools who had all but hit the worst throes of puberty imaginable and were picking out the verses from the bible that made them giggle. 

“It took everything in my power not to take the bible in my hands and smack one of’em on the back of the head with it,” Rhett chuckled. 

You laughed a little with him and soon the stress had begun to fall away. “Here,” Rhett said. “Come with me, I’ll get ya’ll settled.” 

You and him went upstairs and into the bathroom where Rhett turned on the water and began to run you a hot bath. He searched the cabinet until he found a mason jar full of dried lilac sprigs you had picked over the summer, taking a handful and spreading them into the water. 

You stripped off your clothes and stepped in, the water melting the stress away from your body as you let out an obscene moan. “Thank you Rhett,” you groaned. 

“Darlin it’s all good,” he assured you, kissing your shoulders, neck and cheek. “I’d do this for you any day of the week.” 

You relaxed but Rhett never once left your side, just talking with you and laughing about all the embarrassing parts of your day. It was timed like this that you were grateful to have Rhett as your husband. 

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader

[ac1d6urn]

How To Rite Gud [Fic]

aka fiction stages, a summary

A bit of introductions first: I am a writer in a now-obscure fandom (what can I say, I am boring and consistent). I have a perfectionist streak, therefore I take notes on how to be better and even try to follow them. I have been reading fan-fiction since the last century. I have even written a few since the beginning of this one. Let me summarise what I wish I’d known about writing back in the day. Namely: How To Rite Gud (Fanfic or not.)

To write well, first, we need to start somewhere and document the scene and the mood, no matter how brief or unpolished. (Because this is a fandom I know, I'm going to jump straight into an old school controversial tumblr ship as an example. Ready? Set? Go!) (Ohnoes!)

Harry slammed the door angrily. Snape's snide remarks were annoying as usual and oddly arousing. The other man exhaled and realised that he wanted Harry as well.

All right, so. Now we have a starting point. We have conflict. And we have some semblance of character progression. But wait, we're not done (I've read a lot of drafts as 'done', trust me! But how do we go beyond that?)

First things first. At the first pass-through at our rough draft, we will need to choose one protagonist, the one that will learn from the scene the most. Once we do so, we will stick to that point of view. In this case, we are choosing Harry, so that means he cannot see what's on the other side of the door or what is going on in Snape's mind. He can try to guess it or wish for it instead.

Harry slammed the door angrily. Snape's snide remarks were annoying as usual, and oddly arousing. Behind the door he heard a sigh. Perhaps Snape felt the same? That couldn't possibly be true. 

All right then, all fixed! Easy enough. Onward.

The next step is to 'show not tell', in terms of emotion. The aim is to identify and remove every direct mention of how the protagonist is feeling (”angry”, “aroused”). We can show or hint at it instead, or we can project his feelings onto guessing how others feel, but Harry has to be the one doing the guessing or the admitting or the denying. In short, let's play a never-ending game of skirting around how the protagonist truly feels as described in one word, but show or hint at it instead with Harry's actions, urges, or dialogue. We'll leave the reader with the satisfaction of discovering the rest since that is one fun part of reading. Ready?

Harry slammed the door. He thought of kicking it for good measure. Snape's snide remarks were about as welcome as a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, but there was something else, an odd and guilty visceral thrill, unimportant and untimely. Behind the door, he heard a sigh. Snape? What were the odds of Snape understanding how Harry felt: wrestling with being a freak? Impossible! No one would understand.

Now then. Better?  A bit. We're still not done.

Afterwards, we're going to expand and put anything that can become dialogue, a sound, or direct thought in that format. (Begone, ‘guilty visceral thrill’!) Harry (in denial as an unreliable narrator) is quite a bit of fun to play around with. This is also a good stage to add detail: where are they during this scene? Let's say the dungeons. Snape's domain. Dramatic enough?

Bang!

Harry slammed the door so hard that the hinges squealed and the potion bottles rattled in the aftermath. Bloody things deserved it too, every single slimy jar and every single beetle. If he kicked the door, would they shatter right in that pompous sod's face? Fuck it! Fuck it all! His ears burned hot, even after the ominous ringing stopped. That lesson plan was fine as it was! Great! Bloody perfect! But like a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, Snape just had to leave his mark. It's not like the arsehole was teaching the bloody class, not anymore, Harry was, and Snape had no reason to meddle! So of course Snape was just doing what he did best, lurking about, waiting to rile him up. 

Prick!

He leaned forward against the door and pressed his forehead against the polished oak. The boards felt cool.

Someone sighed, right on the other side of the door.

Wait, what was that? Not Snape, surely, can't be. What were the odds? 

What did Snape know about being a freak? Nothing! Not a thing. No one ever does.

All right, now we're onto something. But we're not done quite yet. Challenge accepted? (Y/Y? Of course!) What we're after now is parsing through the draft with a fine-tooth comb, leaving behind no script of the protagonist 'doing things'. This means: no movie script; it turns into a personal real-time diary instead. (The "I am/he was doing the dishes" becomes "the water is too hot; I have to get a new sponge soon"). We are after the direct stream of consciousness, which means precision and detail, no ambiguity. Dialogue works, direct quotes work, immediate thought, concrete detail in recollection of memories or in current setting, anything! Please be creative with 'accuracy' of dialogue or any turns of phrase if it’s true to the protagonist’s stream of thoughts. Grammar rules be damned. Misconceptions, misunderstandings, and lying to oneself or others, depending on the character, is a fact of life. This is the perfect time to inject that into the narrative.

"- of all the times to act like a child!"

"Wait a second, I am not the immature arsehole here!” You absolute twat!

"Oh? Isn't it past your bedtime, Professor Potter?"

Oh, so be it! I’ll bite. "Fine! So what if it is?"

"Mr Potter, for once in your perfect, predictable --"

What's that, you arse? It was so easy to let go. Simply let go of everything. Of the door as well.

Bang! The door slammed so perfect and so satisfying, right in the middle of Snape's smug tirade that the hinges squealed and the potion bottles rattled in the aftermath. Bloody things deserved it too, every single slimy jar and every single beetle. If he kicked the door, would they shatter right in that pompous sod's face? Fuck it! Fuck it all! His ears burned hot, even after the ominous ringing stopped. His lesson plan was fine as it was! Great! Bloody perfect. But like a blast-ended skrewt at a Sunday brunch, Snape just had to leave his mark by pointing out the missing bits. It's not like the meddling git was teaching the bloody class, not anymore, Harry was, and Snape had no reason to meddle! So of course Snape was just doing what he did best, lurking about, just waiting to stab him in the back and twist the paring knife for good measure. 

Prick!

Pressing his forehead against something, anything, like the polished oak of the door, felt like a necessity, something to stave off the headache. The boards felt cool. Stable. Breathe in, breathe out. Right then.

Wait! What was that?

Someone sighed on the other side.

Not Snape, surely, can't be. What are the odds? 

What did Snape know about being a freak? Nothing! Not a thing. He wouldn't even think twice about tonight, hell, he already forgot about it. Did Snape even care? Was it all for nothing then? Their stumbling, stammering, starlit walk back from Hogsmeade. The Astronomy Tower, that slow twist and turn of the telescope as Snape's fingers hovered over Harry's, just for a second, and withdrew, with a nervous twitch...

Screw this. I'm going home. I quit!

So, we're onto something now. The last task is to tweak a few bits. The 'Sunday brunch' may become an 'afternoon tea party'. Italics-as-direct-thought is still off. The class, a Defense class (since Harry is kicked out of what seems like Snape’s Potions classroom.) The pacing is on the right track, the details intrigue us, the conflict is still there. We are getting somewhere. The emotions, the decision, the character progression in this scene (Do you still think I’m a child? -> I am done with you!) is complete. Whew.

And now you know the process. One scene down, a few more to go! (Onward!)

Honestly, this is how 1K drafts become 100K novels. The winning formula seems to be: one protagonist -> in denial with hints at deeper emotion (no explaining feelings) -> with thoughts and dialogue and bias on glorious display -> stream of consciousness controls everything else and all the surroundings or all action is filtered through it. ("The hinges squeaked and the light within was blinding and warm" instead of "he opened the door".) Needless to say, ease up on the plot twists, since writing this way is about x10 word count of whatever you’re expecting right now.

P.S. I've been told to 'finish the fic' already. I don't know what to say, it's a product of three short sentences and one evening and I have way too many drafts. So I'm sharing something better: a formula for making any three sentences into a functional scene. May it unblock you in your next draft. Please write something wonderful.

#writing #fanfiction #fiction #writing tips #writing tip #draft editing #pov #snarry #hp fandom #unreliable narrator #stream of conciousness #direct thought #pacing #dialogue #continuous iteration #show not tell #severus snape #apparently has a heart #enhance #ENHANCE! #proofreading process #snape #snape fandom #pro snape #writers block #fanfiction is fiction #ao3 is a blessing

[idgivemyeyesfor-mattmurdock]

Hey, I have a Matt x Fem.reader request.

After a visit to St. Agnes you gush about the kids you spent the day with and how nice it would be to have a child. Matt wants to start a family with her.

I love Matt as a dad how he takes care of his partner and is sweet with kids

A/N: OMG! I absolutely love this one<3 it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

Fun fact— so I spent about a day and half brainstorming this requests bc I had too many ideas for just one, one-shot and THEN i read it again today and realized I completely read the request wrong! (Correct me if I’m wrong, but “St.Agnes” is the church is NY? thats how i’ve written it but if its an actual place just lmk lol) 

requests pt1: TAKING REQUESTS!

matt murdock X fem!reader

warnings: literally if you are allergic to fluff i do not recommend this fan fiction. it triggers the butterflies in your stomach<3

A/N: my first request! give me some feedback and maybe what you guys want to see hehe i’m open to anything

 ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Sunday mornings for Matt and you were always one of your favorites. Sure, after Matt coming back from dare-deviling was always interesting and… passionate in some sort of way, or you and Matt going out after work, or seeing his face brighten when you would visit him at the office. Those were all times that you’d probably add in the ‘top ten moments’ with my boyfriend. But, putting all of those moments aside; Sunday mornings were angelic. 

You two could wake up, have coffee and sit down in the couch of his living room— well, by the time you two sat on the couch  Matt would’ve already been bolted with energy  by just inhaling the caffeine particles from the air. But you’d make him have the coffee anyways because in an hour he’d complain about his headache and you’d have to come to the rescue with some sort of form of caffeine. 

 After, you’d get ready, dab some makeup on your face, and tie your hair into a messy bun and slip on a necklace of a golden around your neck, which Matt had given you as an anniversary present once. 

You would help Matt slip his tie on, and fix his hair, just in case he messed something up. Then after, you two would head off to church. 

Naturally, the two of you would leave about thirty minutes before the service started, but today was different because you were asked to help out with Sunday school, so the two of you headed to the church earlier. 

Matt enjoyed you getting involved with church, because he wasn’t one to do it. Sure, if Father Lanthom asked him to read a bible verse during the service he would, but only if Father Lanthom asked. You just said yes to everything, even if you only that the animals went to the ark two by two.

You were nervous giving the Sunday school lesson, Though Matt enjoyed hearing you passionately talk about the bible stories. He knew you didnt know much, hell you asked him if he could explain why the animals had to go in two by two! You nearly fumbled every word— but it was cute to hear you dramatize the stories with the kids. You made thundering sounds, and cow noises to the kids, to which all of them laughed but they also learned. 

he enjoyed hearing you be a charchter to the kids but also guide them through the story. You caringly walked them through how they could learn from the story. You broke down a’ dehumanizing story like, ‘Noahs Ark’ so that itty bitty kids could understand it, and they did. 

While all the mothers clapped as you finished, Matt passed you from the end of the room an easy smile. 

His heart melted when he heard all the kids run up to you after the lesson, little kids asked you things like, “Miss y/l/n! do the cow noise again!”, “Miss y/l/n what happens next?!” you tried to answer their questions without embarrassing yourself, but well, you did. 

After church finished, you and Matt were arm and arm when coming out of St.Agnes, though as you two stepping down the last step, a mother came after you asking if you could babysit her daughter during the week, to which you accepted with open arms. you didn’t know what to do, how to do it but she would be in apartment 6A on Wednesday night. 

Your hand gripped tighter around Matts arm as his arms went down your waist, a cheeky grin caressed your face as you thought about the kids and how happy they all looked. 

“What is it?” asked Matt with a smile, “You haven’t been this happy in a while” 

“Actually…” you said as you turned you face to his, eyeing his red frames “I can recall a couple of times I was this happy— last night actually” 

“Oh really?” asked Matt with a toothy grin, “But not this type of happy,” said Matt as you two went up the stairs to his apartment. 

“No, not this type of happy” you replied. 

“Its just—“ you said as the two of you came to a halt at the front of his apartment door, “I dont know, I guess I haven’t really hung around kids? I mean, my cousins of course but its been a while since I’ve seen them, and today was just like a reminder how a bunch of little kids who know only of dinosaurs and pumpkins— I’m not saying I forgot that kids existed, I guess—” you two walked into the apartment, “I just forgot what it meant to be one?” 

Matt placed his cane down by the door as you continued to walk and talk, “I don’t know, just— just remind me to switch professions and to become a preschool teacher.” 

You flopped on the couch, kicking your heels off as your cold feet touched the warm leather, you saw Matt come into your peripherals, already he was slipping his tie off, he said, “angel, I dont think you have to become a preschool teacher to be with kids.” 

He gave that weird toothy grin that also insinuated something else. He had a weird way of speaking metaphorically. “Matt?” 

He came closer to you, sitting by you, you then placed your head down on his lap, as he said, “All I’m saying,” said matt as his hands swooped your hair away from your face, “hearing you today with the kids, talking about the kids, you with the kids, it just made me realize that you’d be a great mom.” 

Your jaw loosened, heart beat raced. Kids with Matt? You a mom? you’re not a mom, or a mom type. 

You’d thought about it, you’d seen him with babies in the office when mothers were overwhelmed with work, he was the first to offer to hold their baby for them, or distract their kids while the mother signed papers or made phone calls. Seeing that always made your heart race and the fictional scenarios is your head have more wiggle room. 

He cocked his head downwards, your hands going up his firm jaw, you asked with a solemn whisper, “Matty, do you want kids?” 

his cheeks turned crimson as his hands went down your cheeks, “…maybe” 

“Maybe?” you asked with a continuous grin. His hands smoothed your hair down as he replied, “Whatever you want. if you want kids we’ll have kids, if you don’t want kids we won’t.”  

“you want kids with me?” Okay that was dumb. So maybe you were delilusional. Its just, kids, a family? he wanted that with you? sure the two of you were serious, and it would be any day that Matt would be proposing to you, but hearing it come out of his pouted lips— your heart nearly glistened. 

“With who else?” asked Matt with a sarcastic grin, “I don’t know,” you responded, “With me? are you sure you want a kid with me— i’m crazy!” 

“y/n…” said Matt with a purr. 

for a second the thought registered in your mind, as you adjusted you head, “Okay okay, that was a bit much but, with me? you want to share a mini matt murdock or y/n murdock with me?” 

“yes” he said as your hands went down his neck, “if i have to say it a thousand times, i will. Sweetheart, if i’m going to have kids its going to be with you.” 

your demeanor swapped as you saw how deep he took this. he just didn’t want kids, he wants them with you. he’d thought about it, just hadn’t mentioned it to not ruffle your feathers. heard your heartbeat warm up, you said in a low tone as your fingers scratched his  beck, “it would be nice.” you smiled, “us, parents.” 

“baby murdock…” mummered Matt. 

“has a nice ring to it, doesnt it?” you responded as matt slowly took his glasses off. 

Silenty you chuckled as you thought about Matts admirable qualities getting put into a single being. 

“what are you laughing at?” asked Matt. 

“teenage murdock��.” 

“oh…” said Matt with a sigh. 

 “boyfriends, girlfriends, shit you’re gonna freak beat the person up at night.” 

“hell yea I am.” said Matt, “they better not break their heart.” 

You smiled as the scenario popped into your head. Your child gets broken up, with so, you talking to your child and then matt flying out of the window to beat that person. 

“see, your gonna be a great dad hun” 

“we’ll see.” said Matt, “we have to make a kid first though” 

“very true” you responded with a smile, “but, I’m pretty sure we got that part down.” 

#mattmurdockfanfic #matt murdock x reader #ao3 marvel #matt murdock fic #please dont come at me #better than the movies #taking requests #mattmurdocksoft #fluff #mattfluff #daredevil

[happy74827]

Contagiously Human.

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}

WC: 1881

Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?

Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️

Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.

『••✎••』

Hesitation.

The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.

He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.

His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.

He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.

So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.

It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?

Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.

So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.

Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.

You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.

So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.

A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.

He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.

When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.

You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.

You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.

He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.

He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.

That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.

A romance novel, of course. How ironic.

"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."

You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.

"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.

Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."

You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.

"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"

"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."

"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”

Shit.

He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.

You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?

First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.

"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."

"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.

"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."

"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.

"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.

"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?

"My aura?"

"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”

"And that means...?"

"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."

Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.

"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.

“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"

"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.

He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.

"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."

Damn.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."

"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.

"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?

"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry, am I being too honest?"

"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.

But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.

You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.

He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.

He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.

Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.

You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.

Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.

"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."

"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.

He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.

Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…

Hesitation.

[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀

That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨

Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.

#brian moser #brian moser x reader #brian moser x female!reader #dexter morgan x reader #dexter x reader #also why did I just find out this man was in twilight #brian moser/reader #rudy cooper x reader #christian camargo #brian moser imagine #rudy cooper #ice truck killer #rudy cooper/reader #rudy cooper imagine #dexter fanfiction #dexter fandom #x reader #fanfic #reader #christian camargo x reader #slasher fandom #dexter s1 #fanfiction #slasher fic #dexter morgan/reader #dexter morgan imagine #dexter imagine #dexter tv series #dexter #ice truck killer x reader

[bodyalive]

Illustration by Monica Garwood

* * * *

From The New York Times Well newsletter

By Carolyn Todd Feb. 9, 2024

Of the thousands of self-help books on the market, which ones are truly helpful? “It’s uncommon to find a self-help book that feels different,” said Vienna Pharaon, a marriage and family therapist in New York City.

But genuinely useful titles abound. The best of the genre invite reflection or offer practical tools to promote emotional, psychological or spiritual well-being. And there are some that therapists personally turn to or suggest to their patients.

“Almost every therapist I know has a whole list of self-help books to recommend,” said Daniel Tomasulo, a counseling psychologist and the academic director of the Spirituality Mind Body Institute at Teachers College, Columbia University.

When sorting through the self-help stacks, who better to help than mental health professionals? We asked seven to share their picks.

1. "The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World," by the Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu with Douglas Abrams

How do we experience joy in the face of personal and collective suffering? The Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu spent five days reflecting on their own lives to answer that question, and they compiled their stories and guidance in this 2016 book.

“The Book of Joy” is an opportunity to learn from two spiritual leaders in an intimate, accessible way, said Sona Dimidjian, director of the Renée Crown Wellness Institute at the University of Colorado Boulder.

Through their dialogue, which is punctuated with laughter and tears, the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Tutu teach readers how to cultivate joy and work through difficulties like illness and despair. Dr. Dimidjian recommends the book to “anyone who is feeling overwhelmed by the realities of our world and daily life today,” she said.

2. "The Happiness Trap: How to Stop Struggling and Start Living," by Russ Harris

This book, first published in 2007, teaches you to accept your negative thoughts and feelings as they arise, instead of resisting or being consumed by them — a refreshing approach known as acceptance and commitment therapy.

Diana Garcia, a South Florida-based therapist, says this easy-to-read primer made her “first fall in love” with ACT. She has clients use the book as a supplement to their sessions and recommends it to friends who are feeling stuck. It teaches you how to keep taking actions that move you in a positive direction regardless of how you’re feeling, she explained.

3. "Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion," by Gregory Boyle

Gregory Boyle is a Jesuit priest who founded Homeboy Industries, a rehabilitation and re-entry program for former gang members. His 2011 book is a collection of real, raw stories about people he worked with and the lessons we can all draw from their experiences.

“Each chapter reads like a Sunday sermon to be savored and meditated upon,” said Jacob Ham, director of the Center for Child Trauma and Resilience at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. While faith is woven throughout the book, Dr. Ham recommends the title to anyone who feels “that their traumas and all the ways they’ve coped with them have left them broken and unredeemable.”

4. "The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity," by Julia Cameron

This 1992 workbook from Julia Cameron, a teacher and author, is a 12-week guide to recovering your sense of childlike creativity. And it’s not just for artists and writers, said Britt Frank, a trauma specialist in Kansas.

“Of all of the books I have ever used with clients, this one has the most staying power,” she said. “Because everyone is creative, and creativity is medicine.”

For years, Ms. Frank has returned to the book’s tools — like the “morning pages,” a stream-of-consciousness journaling practice. And she uses “The Artist’s Way” when treating clients with issues like depression and addiction. But skimmers beware, Ms. Frank cautioned: “It’s not a book you read. It’s a book you work.”

5. "Homecoming: Healing Trauma to Reclaim Your Authentic Self, by Thema Bryant

Thema Bryant is a trauma therapist, ordained minister and professor who offers a “distinctive lens on health, hope and healing trauma,” said Ayanna Abrams, a psychologist in Atlanta.

Drawing on her clinical work, spirituality and personal recovery from trauma, Dr. Bryant shares stories, reflections and exercises in this 2022 title. She helps people believe in their capacity to heal, Dr. Abrams explained. Dr. Bryant also avoids the “gimmicky, bypassing or vague” language that so many self-help books lean on, she added.

6. "The Power of Character Strengths: Appreciate and Ignite Your Positive Personality," by Ryan M. Niemiec and Robert E. McGrath

This 2019 guide helps people recognize, honor and nurture their brightest qualities, Dr. Tomasulo said. The idea of cultivating your “character strengths” comes from positive psychology, which centers on promoting well-being, he explained. “It’s about moving from focusing on ‘what’s wrong’ to ‘what’s strong.’”

People who lean into their character strengths tend to be happier, Dr. Tomasulo said. This book, he explained, is a good pick for “people who are doing OK, but want to have more joy and well-being in their life.”

[Follies of God]

#Follies of God #Self help books #NYTimes #Monica Garwood

[asena-graywolf]

I Love Make You Angry

You were an art student. As long as you can remember, drawing was your favorite hobby. You had talent and wanted to develop it. You wrote the Art department in the first place in your university preferences and you have been taking drawing lessons for two years in your dream department.

You wanted to be a famous manga illustrator after school was over. The person who supported you the most in this regard was your boyfriend Tsukishima. She even modeled for you. You drew her portrait.

He hung the portrait he had drawn for her on the board in your study so that he could always see it while he was working.

Yes, you both rented a house near campus when you enrolled to college and have lived together for two years.

That evening you were at your desk to practice drawing again. The area was very quiet. Having sound, you turned on a music from the phone. Maybe it would be strange for the person who sees it from the outside, but you enjoyed listening to this kind of music while you were drawing. The music you turned on was a kind of Christian chants. Along with the music, there were also ambient sounds in the background. You felt like you were in a church library. The ambience had the sound of rain and the splash of water drops falling on the stone floor.

You were so immersed in drawing and music that you didn't even hear your boyfriend come home and call out to you.

“Y/N! I’m home!"

Noticing that you weren't responding, he thought he was drawn to drawing again. The situation became even more awkward for him when Christian chants music came to his ears.

He approached the room where the music came from and finished behind you

“May it be easy y/n”

You turned over your shoulder and looked at him.

“Tsuki? I didn't hear you come"

You got up from your chair

"It's okay... so, what is this?" he said pointing to your phone

"What could it be? It's the music"

Tsuki had a hard time not laughing, but she couldn't help giggling.

"So what? Christian chants? How long have you been listening to them? Couldn't find another song to listen to? Or are you a Christian and I don't know?"

You answered your boyfriend while muting the music on your phone

“Oh Tsuki! It’s just a music! Listening to rock 'n' roll music while working is tiring for my brain. This kind of relaxing music helps me to relax and concentrate better. It's like a kind of meditation"

“You're really funny. How did I not notice this interesting habit of yours? You were so unappealing about the choice of music"

You frowned. Your face turned red with anger

"Excuse me, I forgot music is your business. What's wrong with the music I listen to?"

“What if you are listening to Christian chants? If you love it that much, I'll take you to church on Sundays and you'll hear it live.

Tsuki was still reeling you in

"It's not funny! Do I interfere with your musical taste? Then don't mess with mine either!"

Your nerves shot through the ceiling but Tsuki knew what would calm you down.

"Come here"

He took you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest. You punched his chest to get rid of it

"Let go of me!"

“Shhh! Okay, calm down. I was just kidding"

He kissed your top of head. He stroked your hair. I knew you were different from the day we met.

You lifted your head off his chest

“Tsuki! You really are an asshole"

He pinched his cheeks hard

“I love pissing you off. Because you're so cute when you're angry. Did I say that before?"

“A hundred times”

You grabbed his hands that pinched his cheeks and slid off him with a swift move.

You said, "my wise guy darling," and you grabbed his nose.

So he’s 1.90 meters tall, you had to stand up on your toes to reach his nose.

He kissed your nose too

“You are so cute y/n. I wasn't serious in what I said, I'm sorry if I offended you"

"It doesn’t matter"

“I know how to win your heart. Let's eat dinner. I'll order for you your favorite pizza"

“Let it be so”

You rolled your eyes and smiled sweetly at your boyfriend.

#haikyuu!! #hq x y/n #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsuki x y/n #tsuki x reader #hq tsukishima #hq x you #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x you #art student reader #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima scenarios

[logans-mormon-blog]

The Sunday school teacher in my last ward was phenomenal, he was so good. And the class itself was so alive. People were teeming with things to say, truly sincerely interesting opinions, things you could tell they'd been studying and pondering in their hearts. It was a really great environment and I looked forward to the lesson every week. My new ward where I've just moved, I feel so mean saying this, but I very nearly fell asleep. And when I was able to pay attention, I was thinking only abt what I'd change in the lesson structure to do it better. And clearly this is a me problem but I miss that old class. It made it so easy to be engaged.

[owlish-owlhouse]

Belos/Philip for headcanon thing please! Be that kid, young adult or emperor. Thank you 💝

Kid Philip/Inner Philip (Platonic)

I personally headcannon Philip with undiagnosed autism and think as a kid he definitely had emotional processing issues. Growing up in a Puritan society with these issues was not easy and is why he has so many issues when he's older. You were his closest neighbor and although he was a touch averse kid he became very clingy of you. He'd scare off any friends who tried to get close to you and only let you be close with your own family and him and Caleb.

In the show he has been shown using his left and right hand. I think he's left handed by since that was the devil/evil hand he was forced to start using his right. When you mention how cool it is that he can use his left hand and right hand he gets blushy about it as it's secretly a skill he's very proud of. Not many are ambidextrous after all. He will use his left hand but only when he's around you or Caleb as he trusts you both not to tell.

Philip has always been very smart but not very strong. As a farm boy he grew up doing chores with his brother in the mornings where he had to lift heavy items and he struggled to complete them on time. His true strength was always school and church. In the evenings he would walk to school with you and Caleb to learn and was the best in class despite being one of the youngest. He always sits next to you in the schoolhouse and shares his ink/quills not letting you touch anybody's else or sit anywhere but next to him. Anytime you had trouble with the material he'd help you and took pride in his ability to do so.

Philip may be strange but from a young age he has most of the Bible memorized. The adults in the community see this as a great accomplishment since he's younger and the Bible is long and complex. He's always been a "gifted" child and this feeds into his ego. During Sunday school he asks the most questions as he believes he loves God most and needs to know these answers to get into heaven. He often quizzes you about the Bible and leans against you during Bible lessons as he doesn't let you sit anywhere but next to him just like school. You're his friend and he makes sure everyone in town knows it.

When he's not working on the farm, doing school work, or spending time at church he enjoys sitting and drawing with you in his families barn. He also likes writing and has fun creating stories with you. Mostly he draws/writes himself as a witch hunter or becoming a witch hunter general but he also sketches you and Caleb. Whenever you all play together he acts as the Witch Hunter General while Caleb is his knight/guard and you are the person they're saving from evil witches. Philip always wants to be your protector when you play and uses his wooden sword against invisible enemies to save you.

Philip (Platonic but can be taken as romantic)

Meeting you in the Isles hes immediately taken in by your charm. You're unlike so many witches he's met before and he finds that he actually likes your company and enjoys the occasional talks you have. You ask him about his travels and what he thinks of the Isles. He lies of course and tells you everything you want to hear like your homeland is beautiful but he's secretly plotting to take you back to Earth with him once he's completed his plans.

He's a hypocrite and has a savior complex. Because he likes you he deems you are not like other witches and believes he can save you. I feel like he'd call you biblical pet names since he was raised Puritan and although the meaning is lost on you the friendly gesture isn't. You give him nicknames in turn and they always make him smile.

Philip is surprisingly a good dancer. When your town holds festivals or dances he always enjoys spinning you around. He's not a fan of being surrounded by so many witches and demons but he always pushes those feelings away because he wants to spend time with you. He knows dancing unwed is a bit crass but he doesn't dwell on that. It doesn't mean anything if it's between friends or someone he's thinking of courting later. He loves your laugh and the way you smile when you dance together makes his heart flutter.

He loves sharing his discoveries with you. He wants you to see how intelligent he is and often brags about his research as he lets you read (the safe parts of) his journal. If you compliment his hand writing and drawings when looking at his journal he'll start leaving you little notes and drawings for you to keep. He also enjoys pressing flowers and giving them to you. If he gives you live plants and you wear them he gets pretty blushy. He loves giving you trinkets/knick nacks too see your smile and is very proud of the gifts he acquires for you.

With his silver tongue and flattery he makes you trust him despite his reputation. Eventually he'll have to move towns but he hopes he can convince you to come with him. He would love to have you as a companion on his travels.

Emperor Belos (Platonic but can be taken as romantic)

He misses being called Philip but changing his name was for his own safety as Philip was deemed a danger to the Isles and chased out of just about every town on the Titan. However, it's been centuries since then and you are his most trusted advisor. The only one he trusts on this dreaded island and the only one he wants to save. Whenever he hears you say his real name when it's just the two of you he just melts. The intimacy of hearing someone else saying his name always makes him smile.

On slow nights when nothing is going on in the castle and you're together he likes for you to sit on his lap or lean against him. The man is very touched-starved and since he trusts you so much you often fulfil his need for companionship. While you lean against him reading your book he enjoys threading his fingers through your hair or twirling it around his hand as he reads his.

You know about his private workspace (though he keeps the GrimWalker/Day Of Unity notes hidden) and often bring food and water down for him. He looks forward to these quiet moments with you. He'll discuss his research and you'll eat together enjoying each other's company. It's also nice to know someone's looking out for his health and he always laughs when they chide him into taking better care of himself. He promises to sleep better once his work is done.

He writes you little letters when he gets busy and can't see you. He has only his most trusted scouts deliver them to you. Just because he can't see you doesn't mean he doesn't want you to know he's thinking of you. Sometimes the notes have little things in them like sketches or an object from his workspace. If you ever start writing back he makes a point to collect the letters and put them somewhere safe.

He would love for you to brush and touch his hair. It's such an intimate but also gentle act. Feeling the brush get out any knots and your gentle touch as you style his hair always calms him down after a stressful day. Philip is also very good at styling and doing hair and would return the favor. He just loves to touch your hair or have you touch his.

#headcannons ask #ask me about a character and i give you headcannons #headcannons #romantic/platonic headcannon #toh philip wittebane x reader #toh philip wittebane #philip #toh philip #philip wittebane #toh emperor belos #emperor belos #belos #toh belos #emperor belos x reader

[aidanchaser]

When You Let A [Kitty Cat] Cure Your Bellyache

part of the @mlsquaredance 2023 Buffet Remixes

Remixed from When You Let A Ladybug Cure Your Bellyache by wyomingparmesan (@wyomingparmesan)

beta'd by @rosekasa

Read on Ao3 or below

Adrien was having a miserable day, but he knew what would make it better. It was practically second nature by now to set his phone to play a recording of his practice sessions, drop it on the music desk of his piano, and slip out the window all in the single breath of, “Plagg, claws out!”

It wasn’t just becoming Chat Noir that made his day better. It was a specific rooftop on a specific balcony that was home to a specific friend.

Time with Marinette always cheered him up. It was so easy to become lost in whatever project she was working on, or even just to indulge in the warm comfort of her parents’ baking. Her smile was infectious, her stress was overwhelming, and her food was perfection. It was the best escape he could think of.

But when he arrived on the roof of Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie and Patisserie, the balcony was empty. There was no sign of Marinette with school work spread around her, or sketches of her latest project, or freshly made snacks.

He supposed it wasn’t fair of him to assume that she would be home on a Sunday. She had friends, friends that she was allowed to see and hang out with. But, unable to help himself, he peeked through her window. In the gap between the flimsy pink curtains, he could see her lying on her bed, fully dressed, on top of her covers.

He used his baton to double-check the time. Ten in the morning seemed a bit early for a nap.

He put his hand on the window pane, merely to steady himself, but it fell open beneath his touch. He tumbled inside, and his quick reflexes turned a disastrous fall into a neat tuck and roll. He popped up at Marinette’s bedside and merely stared down at her, unsure how to introduce himself after that entrance.

She wasn’t napping. She looked right up at him, eyes furrowed confusion, with one hand pressed against her stomach and the other half-way to a box of bonbons.

Chat Noir’s first instinct was to apologize for entering unannounced and uninvited, but the chaotic urge for quips was always so much more pressing than his lifetime of lessons on good manners. “You’ll get sick if you eat too many of those,” he said.

Marinette pouted up at him and popped another bonbon in her mouth. “When did you become a doctor?”

“Last week,” he said. “Left my labcoat at home, though. Let’s see… I think the diagnosis is… lazy Sunday morning?”

She rolled her eyes. She looked uncannily like Ladybug when she made that face, which only made him grin. His day of distraction was already going excellently.

“I’m not having a lazy Sunday,” she grumbled, “I’m…” but she didn’t finish. “It’s… just a stomachache,” she finally said, and reached for another chocolate.

Chat Noir opened his mouth tell her that maybe soup would be a better choice than chocolates if she had a stomachache—medical doctor or not, he at least knew that much—when it occurred to him that maybe she had exactly the sort of stomachache chocolate would help with.

So instead of another attempt at wit, he collapsed right onto her stomach, stretching the wrong way across her bed.

“Oomph—Chat!” She groaned and tried to shove him off, but he only settled in.

“Consider me your purr-sonal heating pad,” he grinned.

“You dork,” she grunted and shoved him again. But she didn’t protest any further. Instead, she rested her hands on his back. One of her fingers fidgeted aimlessly with his belt.

“Is it working?” he asked.

She was silent for a long moment before finally admitting, “Yes.”

He grinned and closed his eyes as her hand drifted from the small of his back, up his neck, and into his hair. A low rumble started in his chest and curled around the back of his throat—a quiet, contented purr. His purrs were rare things, only finding their way out of his chest when he was perfectly content, and that didn’t happen very often.

“How’d you know this would help?” she murmured as her fingers played lazily with his ears, mimicking the twirling her other hand was still doing around his belt.

He folded his hands under his chin and tipped his head up, into her touch. “My mom used to get really bad stomach pains,” he said. “My dad would buy her chocolates and wine and flowers.” He bit down on his tongue, afraid he might say too much and give himself away.

It wasn’t just his father that would comfort his mother through her aches. Adrien used to curl up in his mother’s lap and watch her movies with her. He’d spend an entire day curled up against her, warm and content in her embrace. When he was younger, he’d felt guilty for liking when his mother would get ill, but she had explained to him that it wasn’t really an illness. It was a chronic condition, related to her inability to have children, and she’d told him that he was her miraculous angel. She’d often called him an angel, but that was the first time he had almost believed her.

Marinette’s hands stilled in his hair and on the small of his back. “You’ve never talked about your family before.”

“Well—secret identity and all.” And it occurred to him that he had stopped purring.

She shifted beneath him in an attempt to sit up. He rolled over ever so slightly, still pinning her legs down, still providing warmth and pressure as she curled over him.

“It sounds like your dad really loves your mom,” she finally said.

“Yeah, he did. I mean—he does.”

Marinette tipped her head and furrowed her brow as she looked down at him, but before she could ask him any more questions, he shifted his weight and dug an elbow into her thigh. She flinched and reflexively jerked her knees up into his gut, throwing him off of her.

He tumbled to the floor and gave her an upside down grin. Her concentrated expression, though, was unfooled.

But she didn’t ask anymore questions. Instead, she scooted over before laying back down, careful to make enough room for him on the bed next to her.

Chat Noir accepted her invitation.

As he laid down beside her, he pressed one hand into her stomach and tucked the other one behind his head, creating his own makeshift pillow and ignoring the dozens Marinette had clustered at the head of her bed. He ran the pads of his fingers along the curve of her stomach, softly but firmly.

Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, but she dropped one hand over his shoulder so she could continue playing with his ears. The other found its way to his hand on her stomach, where it trailed absently along the lines of his tight, leather-like gloves that cloaked his hands.

He couldn’t help but wonder, as he so often had with Ladybug, what it would be like to feel her skin against his properly.

In a voice hardly above a whisper, she said, “Thank you, Chat.”

“Any time,” he murmured against her cheek.

“You know if…” She gnawed on her lower lip and Chat Noir had to stifle a smile. He always loved watching Marinette work through a difficult problem. She didn’t have the finesse that his lady did, but there was a stubborn streak shared between them.

“If you really are a stray kitty,” she said, “then you could, I don’t know, stay here if you liked.”

He laughed and the bell at his throat jingled as he moved. “I believe that I am well-collared.”

Her lips twitched with a poorly suppressed grin. “Do you have a tag somewhere with your home address?”

“Tucked somewhere in this tight suit is a card that says, ‘If lost, return to Ladybug.’”

She laughed, finally, and it felt good to hear her laugh. His purr crawled its way back into his throat.

She turned to look at him and their noses brushed. “I was resigned to having a miserable day,” she said, and her breath was warm against his lips, “but I’m glad you turned up.”

He wanted to quip something about leaving her window open, something about cat burglars, something witty and charming rolled into one, but he found words hard to form as his nose was overwhelmed by the strawberry of her lip balm and the chocolate on her breath.

She tipped her head, ever so slightly. He didn’t know if it was an invitation but he leaned in anyway, offering an invitation of his own, and she accepted. Their lips met and his tongue flooded with all the bittersweet scents in her mouth. His hand stopped pressing into her stomach and instead shifted to her hip, gripping her like he was afraid she might slip away. Her hand, similarly, wound through his hair and pulled him against her.

It was the least chaste kiss Chat Noir had ever had, and he wondered if it was because he was Chat Noir or if it was something in Marinette. If it was her, it was a side of her he didn’t know, but he was glad to get a glimpse of it.

She pulled away, and her blue eyes seemed to burn with the heat of stars, hot and white and glistening.

“Do kisses on your face help your tummy?” he asked.

For an answer, she leaned into another kiss.

The initial fire of the kiss dimmed into simmering coals. Her grip in his hair loosened, but her hands still pressed against his skull and held him close. He let his hand on her stomach go back to firm circles near her pelvis. They kissed until the taste of chocolate waned and he could no longer tell the difference between her taste and his own.

The only thing that forced them apart was the sound of heavy footsteps on the ladder below Marinette’s room.

“Marinette!” her father called. “Your mother and I just finished some chocolate croissants!”

And as the hinges of the trapdoor creaked, Chat Noir choked on his own lazy purr. He slipped out the window he had come in as fluidly as water passing through the neck of the bottle. He perched on her roof and listened to her, with a rather flustered voice, thank her father for the sweets, and assure him she hadn’t been doing anything—“Just texting Alya!” she said in a voice pitched several registers above her natural tone.

Chat Noir glanced back in the direction of his home, wondering if his father had uncovered his own deceit yet.

He’d never shared so much of himself with anyone, not as Chat Noir, and rarely as Adrien. But, whatever Marinette took away from his brief story, he wasn’t a stray. He had his own home; he had Ladybug; and if he ever needed it, he knew that he would be more than welcome here.

#miraculous square dance 2023 #ml fanfic #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #marichat #sick fic #rated T for menstruation mention #im so excited about this event #prepare for a new one shot every weekend from now til december

[wh0re-behavi0r]

Seven Sentence Sunday

tagged by @alyxmastershipper @spotsandsocks

“When would you come here?” Someone asks and Buck flashes a smile. 

“All the time. To get out of music lessons, to spend some time with my sister, and to make friends. It was always fun to make those temporary friends at the park, wasn’t it?” This playground holds some of his favorite childhood memories. And it holds some of his most painful memories, too, like the time he broke his arm ‘cause someone dared him to jump off a swing and called him a pussy if he didn’t do it. 

The cameras go off to get some B-roll and Buck takes a seat on the swing, legs really close to the ground.  He hears a clearing of someone’s throat to the left so he tilts his head up and sees Eddie smiling, the sun lighting up his face. “Is this seat taken?” Buck shakes his head no. 

“I liked making friends at the park, too. I was a little shy before middle school, and it was easy here because everyone needed someone to play with. And I loved the swings.” 

Buck smiles fondly, hoping that when they stop in Texas he’ll get to see pictures of younger Eddie. “I did too. I was always competing with someone for who could jump off the swing at the highest point, breaking some bones, and competing again. At least, when I had time. And I always won,” he smirks.

tagging @eddiescowboy @eddiediazisascorpio @eddiediass @elvensorceress @swiftiebuckleys @stanningsky @monsterrae1 @the-likesofus @bekkachaos @trashbaget @loveyourownsmiilee @lostinabuddiehaze @eddiesbleps @ajunerose @heartbeatdiaz and anyone else who wants to do this

#bodyguard fic #buddie fics #my writing

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 16

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: soft Gojo, first date, tooth rotting fluff

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

Throughout the remainder of the week, you divide your attention between your academic responsibilities and thinking about your upcoming date. There’s enough room in your attention to complete the next set of readings, take detailed notes in class, and prepare for your shift at the Eikaiwa school after some of the tension dissolved from the heart-to-heart with Gojo.

Summer vacation is still at the top of your mind, so you work with your class to discuss more advanced vocabulary around hobbies, pastimes, and activities. The new words pair well with the lessons in future tense and goals you had done earlier in the year. While more practical words and lessons are important for future usability, you don’t want classes to be all work and no play, why would the students continue their studies if that were the case?

Classes the second week pass without incident. Apparently your conversation in the gardens has also sated Satoru for now, as he doesn’t stare or sit with you again. Once or twice after class you’ll catch his eye, share a smile, but he gives you the space to plan things without pressure. 

In Japan, it’s common for dates to last hours or the whole day, rather than be quick meetups, so it’s not just a dinner you’re planning, but an entire evening. It’s also customary for prospective couples to formally confess their feelings and intent,  which you suppose you did when you asked him out last week. 

His humor, intelligence, and care for education have all captured your interest, and you hope he’ll continue being open enough with you to learn the other parts of himself as well. You’ve got to create the right atmosphere.

Halfway through the week you decide to set the date for the upcoming Sunday- it seems to be an auspicious day between all the cafe study dates and Satoru’s apology- and ask him to meet you at your dorm in the afternoon. Leaving the activities as a surprise, you feel the flutter of nerves as you send the message. 

Gojo’s double-texted reply is quick and positive, which eases some of your worry, but it’s hard not to overthink. 

Sunday comes again, and you wake up with anticipation rolling in your belly. Instead of the choking anxiety that you had felt at the symposium though, these nerves are the warm kiss of possibilities of your relationship with Gojo. 

Satoru meets you outside your dorm, and you walk to the metro station together. The first stop isn’t far from campus, but the day is bright and warm and you’d rather not work up a sweat walking there. Gojo’s height makes it easy to track him through the crowd, the people part around him on the path to the train car. 

He looks as put together as ever- you’re not sure if he owns anything besides polished button downs and seemingly infinite pairs of sunglasses. You can tell he’s gotten a haircut though, and as you find a pair of seats on the train you get a whiff of his cologne, deeper and more sultry than what he had worn before. 

It’s a short ride to your stop, and you pass the time with light conversation on a safe topic- the two classes you’re in. Before long, you’re exiting the train and walking out into the sun together.

The first stop of the day is the National Museum of Nature and Science. 

You're sure he's been there before (all schoolchildren go on field trips after all), and perhaps it's cheating a bit since you're both in education. 

But walking through the museum and chatting will be a relaxed start to your date, and you're hoping the shared field of interest will give you plenty to talk about. 

You scan the ticket you’d bought in advance and head up to the third floor of the museum, where the natural history exhibits are housed. As you walk through the displays that outline the formation of Japan’s islands and fossils, you turn conversation towards him. 

“So your schedule has calmed down?”

“Yeah, there’s not as many conferences in the fall and winter.”

Your eyes trace the shape of the bones between the outlines of other museum-goers. It would be nice to have Gojo around more often, spending more days like this one together, working together in the library, maybe staying cozy together around a kotatsu. 

“Do you like presenting?”

“Oh yeah, I love it.”

Satoru might posture like he didn’t like the attention, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind the attention. Besides, you’re not exactly sure how he spends his time outside of writing papers and presenting on them. 

“What do you like to do then? You spend all your time jetsetting and doing homework?”

“Well I am a pretty good speaker,” you can hear the grin in his voice. “I keep busy. Plenty of things to do,” he looks back into the diorama.  

The two of you slowly make your way to the lower floors, talking mostly about the exhibits. Gojo seems pleased to talk to you, if not with the actual exhibitions themselves, before concluding your visit walking through the Theatre 360. The room is completely round, covered on all sides by screens that project the educational film created by the museum.

Walking across the suspended bridge in the middle of the sphere, you’re engulfed in outer space. The screens filter through HQ clips of the most remote parts of the universe- the cosmic dust, galaxies, and stars spiraling endlessly. 

It would be easy to feel alone, insignificant when confronted with the grandeur of all existence, and for a moment you’re nearly lost in it. Then Satoru’s hand brushes against yours and the contact from his body brings you down to Earth. 

You walk out of the theater, a bit awed and fragile, but Gojo seems more invigorated than ever. His steps are energetic and you imagine his eyes bright and impassioned behind the glasses.

“Didn’t I tell you Physics shouldn’t be boring? Think if you could have that in the classroom.”

“I think that’d be a little overwhelming in a classroom,” you laugh and lead him out of the museum and towards the restaurant for dinner. 

You had chosen a quiet restaurant a few blocks from the museum, a local shabu-shabu place.

You’ve never been there before, but the reviews online are good and they have an extensive dessert menu. Cooking the hotpot ingredients will give you something to do together, and the pictures online make the interior seem nice but low key, so you can focus on each other. The small restaurant should also be less busy than the Izakaya bars, even on the weekend. 

After thinking long and hard about what Gojo seems to like, it felt like a good fit. He’s clearly paid attention to what you’ve told him, and you think he’ll appreciate the consideration. 

Afternoon has leaked its way into evening, and it’s dim enough by the time you arrive at the restaurant that Satoru takes his glasses off. He tucks them into the top of his shirt and walks you into the restaurant. When his arm brushes yours, you have to repress a shiver, he radiates heat even through the layers of clothes. 

You’re taken to an intimate table along one of the walls. There’s no candles on the table, but the low light and sparse tables creates an ambiance that’s 

The warm lighting inside the restaurant suits him, as does the smile on his face. Even on a first date, he's perpetually unperturbed. 

The waiter introduces themselves and takes your order. You order yourself a little liquid courage, but Gojo sticks with water.

The meals arrive shortly after, the vegetables and meat are tender and flavorful, and the dipping sauces are savory. For the first time, conversation veers in a deeper direction. 

“You didn’t answer earlier. About what you like to do outside of school.”

“I don’t have a lot of free time, honestly. It’s nice to be out today though,” it’s nearly frustrating how charming Satoru can be when he’d like. 

“Really? There’s so much to do here, I don’t think I could see it all if I live the rest of my life in Tokyo.” You sigh. “It really isn’t easy to make time with the academic schedule though.”

“You like the museums in town?” He asks. 

You nod. “I know you’ve probably been to the Natural History one before, but it’s one of my favorites.  

“I haven’t been recently.” He looks at you slyly, “it’s been a while since someone’s asked me out.”

“I guess you’re lucky you didn’t scare me off,” you tease. It had been a rather bumpy start.

“Hey, you won me over.” He shrugs. “If you want to convince me further, I saw they have anmitsu and dorayaki on the menu.”

With the array of plates still in front of you, you’re not sure how he’ll have any room for dessert, but you’re not above bribing him with something sweet. 

“To think that’s all it would’ve taken in April. I’ll bring all my partners sweets in the future.”

“What can I say, I’m easy to please!”

You end up splitting both dessert dishes, leaving you pleasantly full and satisfied. Even though he’d joked about you picking up the tab, when you walk to the front of the restaurant to pay, he trades his card for yours. 

“Let's at least split it,” you say. That's what's most common in Japan anyway. 

“I've got it. You can treat next time.”

The fact that he wants there to be a next time is enough to make your face hot. 

“Soooo,” you lead out of the restaurant, “I thought that next we could walk along Sumida River. The lights from the bridges in the water are supposed to be very beautiful in the evening.”

“Sure, it's nice out,” he glances around the temperate night before turning back to you. “My apartment isn’t too far from here though, if you’d rather.” His voice is still light, but his eyes are dark.

#gojo x reader #light academia #jjk x reader #reader insert #first date with Gojo #EiA #this chapter and tomorrow's post will be separate there but 1 chapter on ao3