#guess who forgot to flip the canvas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madpanda75 · 4 years

Text

“Taking Chances Part 10: The Perfect Gift”

Part 10 is here! Not gonna lie, this chapter is short and not my best work but a necessary bridge to get to the climax of our story! Fair warning, it ends on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! ❤️

It was the Tuesday after the dramatic Carisi lunch. You typically had Mondays off from the gallery and after fucking Rafael senseless in front of the fireplace, it didn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to play hooky. The majority of your day was spent in bed— making love, browsing through Netflix, and eating Chinese takeout. It was a much needed escape from your chaotic lives and you still had a few more hours before reality set in.

The brilliant warm rays of the early morning sun peeked through your curtains. You languorously stretched your limbs, reveling in the sensation of your bare legs against the soft cotton sheets. With a long, drawn out yawn, you reached over to the nightstand for your cup of coffee and aimlessly flipped through a copy of the New Yorker. However your attention was otherwise preoccupied with a freshly showered Rafael walking around your bedroom with a towel hanging low around his hips. You nearly spilled your hot drink into your lap while counting the water droplets on Rafael’s bare chest, watching one droplet slide down his stomach towards his happy trail.

He let the towel drop to the floor and began to get dressed for work, arching his brow when he caught you perched on the edge of the bed staring at him with your jaw hanging wide open.

You blushed and cleared your throat. “Are you sure I can’t make you breakfast?”

“Thanks for the offer but I should try to get to the office early,” he said, holding up two ties for you to choose from.

You picked the silk violet tie. The purple hue brought out your boyfriend’s brilliant green eyes. “Ok, but promise me that you’ll eat something other than the stale pretzels at the precinct.”

“I promise.” Rafael gave you a quick peck on the lips and wrapped his tie around his neck when he realized that he was missing a key element to his wardrobe. “Where’s my shirt? I swore it was right here a min—” His search for the missing shirt came to a screeching halt when he noticed you were wearing it.

“Sorry babe.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips. “Who knew Armani made such comfortable clothes and besides I love how it smells.”

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How it smells?”

“Uh huh.” Your cheeks turned bright pink and you nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It smells like you.”

An warm, fuzzy feeling coursed through Rafael’s veins at your confession. He cupped your face and tenderly kissed you before pulling away. “If you love the shirt so much, then it’s yours.”

“Really?” You glanced down at his undershirt and the tie draped around his neck. “But what are you gonna wear?”

“I have a spare shirt in my office that I keep in case of emergency coffee stains.”

You beamed brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Best boyfriend ever,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as his hands inched further down your back towards your ass. You moaned in response, feeling him squeeze your cheeks.

“Mi amor,” he said between kisses. “I have to go.”

“No. Five more minutes. Please,” you whined, pressing your body against his.

Rafael groaned, all the blood from his brain rushing towards his cock. You were playing a dangerous game. “If we keep this up in five more minutes I’m going to be between your legs, fucking you so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

You nuzzled against his neck as your hand began to palm his growing erection. “Well they do say that testosterone is higher in the morning. Care to put that theory to the test?”

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

With a sigh of defeat, you stopped. “Alright, can’t blame a girl for trying.” You planted one last chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go on. Get outta here.”

“I’ll see you later tonight.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom only to return 30 seconds later. “I forgot something.”

“What did you—” Rafael cut you off with a passionate kiss causing you both to fall back on the bed. Your heart fluttered. You were so lost in the moment that you forgot how to breathe. You could taste him on your tongue. All too soon the kiss ended and you were left dazed with thoroughly soaked panties.

“I love you,” he purred and playfully nipped on your lower lip before leaving with a smug smile firmly planted on his face.

“Love you too,” you mumbled and held up the shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply.

*****

A few hours later you were sitting in the small studio at the back of the gallery, dotting leaves onto a canvas. You skipped to the next song on your playlist and stepped back to analyze your work. The painting was of a large, vibrant tree in the center of a grey, bleak city. The tree was designed to look like Rafael. Its leaves matched the color of his eyes. Of course it wasn’t typical for trees to have seafoam green leaves but that was the beauty of art. You even tried to sketch his face in the trunk, its bark resembling his crooked smile and strong aquiline nose.

Underneath the tree stood the shadowy figure of a woman meant to be you. The tree’s branches were outstretched, gently caressing you, comforting you. In the palms of your hands, you cradled your heart, offering it to the tree as the only possession you had to give. In your opinion, it was the perfect depiction of your relationship. Rafael was your protector. With him, you felt loved, safe, hopeful for the future. He symbolized a new chapter in your life.

Your “Rafael-inspired” piece was meant to be a surprise, since the elusive search for the perfect art for his home was still ongoing. Lucky for him, inspiration struck one rainy Saturday several weeks ago. Well, lazy for you. Rafael was busy typing away on his laptop. Snuggling against him with the rain pattering against the window, a flood of emotions washed over you. The next day you woke up before dawn, grabbed your brushes and paint and snuck over to the studio.

From above the sound of your music playing through your headphones, you heard the door open and turned your head to see your coworker, Phoebe, walk in.

“Bonjour, ma petite aubergine!” she said in a tone that was way too chipper for 8:30 in the morning.

You snorted a laugh and turned off your music. “Good morning, my little eggplant?” you repeated the phrase.

“I love eggplant,” she replied with a shrug and went to stand behind you, surveying your work. “Hmmm… I like it.”

You made a face. “You sure? It’s not too cheesy?”

She hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A little, but that’s ok. It's the good kind of cheesy.”

A sigh below past your lips. “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” she tried to reassure you. “And anyways, love makes people cheesy.” You blushed and went back to your painting while she milled around the room looking at your other pieces. “Ya’ know, there’s a new artist night at this gallery my friend works for. You should reach out to them. See if they’ll let you show your art. There are enough pieces here to choose from.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off. “And before you say anything, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” She gently took you by the shoulders and made you stand to face her. “You are incredibly talented and you should share that talent with the world while making a few bucks in the process.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you conceded, glancing back at your unfinished canvas.

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I am? I mean, of course I am! Damn, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you consider doing a show. That Rafael guy must be a good influence on you.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” You smiled, thinking back to earlier that morning.

“Speaking of which,”—she grabbed a spare chair and sat down, getting comfortable—“how did the whole ‘meet the parents’ scenario play out?”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Ugh, why did you have to remind me?”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like we’re gonna need coffee.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m gonna get a cappuccino from the cafe around the corner. Can I get you something?”

“An Americano and a cinnamon roll.”

“Be back in a flash. I wanna hear all about it. Family drama sustains me, especially when it’s not mine,” she teased before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and began to tidy up. While you stood at the sink, cleaning your brushes, watching the colors swirl and dissolve down the drain, you wondered if Rafael would like his surprise. You hoped he would. It took you hours to get just the right shade of green.

This gift was a big deal. Apart from your parents, you had never created a piece for anyone else. Your art was private. It was personal. Giving it away was like giving away a part of you. But you and Rafael were beyond that. This past weekend only confirmed what you had known from the moment he stepped into the gallery— that you were his, completely.

The sound of the door opening snapped you out of reverie. “That was fast, Phoebe,” you said over the running water. “I guess the cute barista wasn’t working today cause normally you spend a solid twenty minutes flirting before actually ordering your drink. I’m almost finished here. Give me a sec and then I can tell you about the worst Sunday lunch in the history of the Carisi family and that includes the time my Aunt Anita stabbed my Uncle Tony with a fork. ”

“Awww c’mon, babe. It wasn’t that bad,” said a voice that you recognized all too well.

Stunned, your hands froze, the brushes clanging against the sink. “This can’t be happening. Please, God don’t let it be him,” you thought, slowly turning around only to find your ex-fiancé standing right in the middle of your studio.

“Theo,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question and took a step towards you with a sinister smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Tag List: @glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @mgarner1227 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarletsoldierrr @youreverycolor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy @graniairish @ashley-chi @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613 @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg @crowleysqueenofhell @caked-crusader @garturbo @rachelxwayne

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fan #barba #barba fanfic #barba imagine #barba x reader #law and order svu fanfic #law and order svu imagine #barba fic #taking chances

147 notes · View notes

qawsslate · 3 years

Text

newbies

another nct drabble, short story, one shot, scenario?

genre: fluff probs

tw: none

pairing: Renjun & reader

a/n: idk bro read at ur own risk, i used google translate for a thing but im hoping it makes sense in the context, feel free to interact :))

____

"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”

“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”

Haechan and Jeno were gathered in Renjun and Jisung’s shared bedroom attempting to calm the nerves of the older Dream member. He had just finished a painting he had been working on for the last month in prepation for Valentine’s Day. He knew you weren’t expecting anything as in Korea, the traditional practice was for the girl in the relationship to give the guy chocolates, but neither of you were big on the specifics of things like that. You both shared the sentiment of holidays but were also practical in the ways you gave gifts to each other. Last Christmas, Renjun had given you a new winter coat since the one you’ve been using since your teenager years had begun to literally tear at the seam. You often brushed off his nagging of buying a new coat with protests of the coat still doing its job.

“Renjun, the coat is fine. I’m still perfectly warm”

“Y/n, I can see the thread that’s keeping the arm sleeve attached to the rest of it hanging off. I bet if I pull it the whole thing would fall apart. Here let me show you.”

He reached down and pretended to yank the thread which prompted you to gasp in amused disbelief.

“Ya! Don’t you dare! Did you really pull it off?”

You looked down at your arm trying to assess if in fact the fabric on your body was still a piece of wearable clothing.

He laughed and just embraced you in a hug.

He had followed up the new winter coat with a flower plushie you had commented that was cute a week ago in a shop, his favorite scented candle so you could be reminded of him when he was away on a schedule, a neck massager because he thought you spent too much time at your desk, an insulated bottle so you would drink more water and not coffee, a polaroid camera for the memories and random Chinese snacks you really liked. He was very practical yet considerate, and it made your heart swell. You almost cried thinking all of it was too much and he had to hold your face in is hands and make you look at him so he could tell you that you were worth it.

What you didn’t know that he also wanted to gift you with a necklace but second guessed himself too much to the point where he took the small box out of the pile of gifts only minutes before he gave you the heap of presents. Mark was the only member he told about the necklace beforehand but Renjun unfortunately had forgotten to inform his loveable hyung of his inaction, a problem that presented itself the morning after Christmas.

“Y/n! Merry-day-after-Christmas! How was Christmas with Renjunnie? Did you like the necklace?”

You, Mark, and Renjun had been sitting at the Dream dorm kitchen table eating leftovers from the small dinner Jaemin had made at 3am. Thankfully the rest of the boys were still asleep so the damage could still be contained. Renjun choked on the green tea he had been drinking but quickly recoverd.

“Neck massager hyung. The Korean word for neck massager is 목 마사지기. Ahhh, it’s because he’s a foreigner.”

Renjun laughed a little too forcibly and tried to signal to Mark as much as humanly possible without bursting a vein that the necklace gift was aborted. By some Christmas miracle, Mark had somehow picked up on the hint and quickly corrected himself. He even added a white lie to support the neck massager fib, quickly sputtering that he had helped Renjun pick out a neck massager with the recommnedations from his mom, his aunt, his grandmother, and his cousin who was some sort of professional massager. You answered honestly that you had yet to put it to use as you forgot to charge it last night. You weren’t sure if it was the happiness hangover or lack of sleep after Christmas Day that made you think Mark and Renjun were acting strange, but you became distracted from dwelling on their behavior as Haechan and Jisung came into the kitchen. The mood quickly shifted and Renjun felt like he could breathe for the first time in what felt like an hour. You had become preoccupied in helping Jisung follow a recipe on how to make American style pancakes and scolding Haechan for handing the gullible maknae wrong ingredients. After a few minutes Renjun had excused himself to check on Jaemin and Jeno, and Mark announced he had to use the bathroom. Once out of earshot from the mess in the kitchen Mark turned to Renjun,

“You didn’t give it to her?”

“No, hyung, honestly I got too scared. What if she didn’t want it? What if she thinks I’m going too far? What if it’s too serious all of a sudden?”

“Well, don’t you want to be serious with y/n?”

“Of course. More than anything. I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Renjunnie,” Mark placed his hands on his shoulders, “you are doing great. Do whatever feels right to you. But if you’re only doubting yourself I think it’s still a good idea to give her the necklace.”

Renjun still looked conflicted and mindlessly opened the door to Jaemin room then Jeno’s.

The four proceeded back to the suspiciously quiet kitchen to find Jisung sat at the table and Haechan and you making the rest of the pancakes. When Jaemin asked what happened, Haechan responded,

“We wanted to make sure you guys still had a place to live.”

The necklace matter had been dropped and about a month later all those repressed emotions Renjun had came back. It was two nights before Valentine’s Day and both just wanted a quiet evening. Renjun planned to cook a dinner at your apartment and the whole thing felt innocent until he thought about how you guys hadn’t even been officially together for more than a year. He suddenly felt the pressure, the implications, the underlying tone of something like giving you a piece of jewelry. His plan was to just give you a painting. He had carefully recreated the scene of the park where he first saw you. You had been pushing children on the swings. He had thought you were a babysitter of some sort until you waved to the kids goodbye and saw the nearby adults scoop them in their arms and walk away. Then he saw you swinging by yourself. He never revealed this to you during your first official encounter as he didn’t think it would be smooth to open up with, “I’ve been watching you swing by yourself at the children’s park.” He also hadn’t been initially sure if you were the same girl he had wistfully observed, but you had once planned a park date at your favorite spot.

“It’s actually quite near your dorm, we could walk there if you’re up to it? Sometimes I play with the kids. It’s gotten to the point where some of the mothers have recognized me.”

Renjun immediately knew you had been that girl he had observed in what felt like a lifetime ago. He knew that one day he would really have to treat Chenle to a meal for introducing you both. Renjun also knew if he had admitted this to Chenle now he would never let it go and it would somehow inflate the size of that kid’s head even more, but he added it to the list of things he loved about his younger member.

Renjun had carefully recreated the details from his memories of those days, paying particular attention to that coat you refused to give up on and he had just finished the painting when Haechan decided to burst into his room.

“Renjunnie! Have you ate? Let’s eat.”

Renjun had been so absorbed with his doubts that the sudden interruption almost made him fall off his chair. Renjun almost gets as easily startled as Jisung, but the magnitude of his reaction made Haechan take a step back and immediately set off his signature mischief.

“Ya, is the innocent and pure boy doing something naughty? You know you should really lock your doors Renjun-ah”

Renjun scrammbled to find something to cover the painting. His tidy desk space provided no aid and his next move was to flip the whole thing over deciding to deal with the consquences of the still wet paint later, but Haechan moved quickly and pulled Renjun’s arms up away from the canvas.

“Ya, what’s this?”

“Nothing. Heachan, please.”

Renjun sighed. He had no problem in any other situation to fight the boy who always tested his limits, but with the awkward sitting position he was in, Renjun knew that there was no logistically sound way to physically fight Haechan at the moment.

“Oh, it’s just another painting. Why were you so freaked out- YA! Is that y/n?!”

Haechan dropped Renjun’s arms, his first mistake, as Renjun took the opportunity to lunge towards the painting. Haechan proceeded to yank the back of the wooden chair -- his second mistake -- and he called out for reinforcements.

“JENO-AH!”

Jeno was not surprised that the bickering quickly took place, but was also concerned with the intensity of Haechan’s scream. Jeno regretfully entered the space of what would ultimately disrupt the otherwise peaceful morning and listened to the chorus of Renjun’s mild curses and death threats and Haechan’s shameless happy teasing although he was the one in the headlock.

“Ya, you two. Can we just go eat?”

“Jeno-ah, grab that. QUICKLY.”

Curiosity took over and Jeno obeyed. Renjun knew that although Jeno lacked in the desire of fighting members, he made up for with his physcial strengh. Renjun was quite aware that Jeno could quite literally pick him and Haechan up to stop the sqaubble. Renjun gave a frustrated sigh of defeat and sat back down at his desk while Jeno and Haechan sat on the nearby bed to fully observe the art piece.

“Is this y/n? It’s really good.”

“Our Renjunnie is growing up so fast. It’s cute to see you in love.”

The casualness of Haechan’s sentiment in dropping the L word set off alarms in Renjun’s brain but curiously not his heart. He quickly pushed off whatever deer in headlights reaction he showed and calmy took the painting back from Jeno. He decided to just tell the two that it was for Valentine’s Day and mumbled that he wasn’t sure if you were gonna like it.

"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”

“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”

Haechan sensed it was the right time to get serious.

“Renjun-ah. Honestly. It’s a really good painting. She’ll love it. That girl loves everything you do.”

Jeno hummed in agreement.

“Injunnie, it will be okayyy.”

Jeno’s speciality in dorm-only aegyo gave Renjun comfort. It almost brought back a sense of normalcy in Renjun’s emotions. He was also grateful to Haechan although no matter how much the boy made it a sport to annoy him, he could still be mature when it counted. He thanked God that the necklace had been safely hidden in a drawer and considered the many ways the situation could have escalated if the two boys saw that the painting gift was not the main source of his anxiety.

Renjun thought it would be best to change the subject from his insecurities about his love life. Love, he thought, there was that word again.

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

hi i have a tendency to not end my fics well, lemme know what yall think

29 notes · View notes

crackcrocs · 3 years

Text

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿ if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

#LCZABIBU #deathwillonlybethebeginning

9 notes · View notes

breaddaerb · 3 years

Note

Headcanons for Jett pls?

(Preferably for her backstory or relationships with the agents, if its not too much trouble.)

[ jett headcannons I ]

✎↷: of course, anon! it’s no trouble at all honestly, jett is one of the agents that i first got a soft spot for! apologies for any errors in here. have fun with these:

joon-hee comes from a larger, more populated city like busan or seoul. it makes sense, considering her card, and she’s most definitely taken part in the street food culture of the big cities. she has an older sister and an older brother, as well as her two parents. she gives off youngest kid vibes, so we’re going to go with it.

the age gap between her siblings wasn’t wide, but a gap enough to where joon-hee was equally influenced by her brother and her sister. she had a taste of everything growing up, but their family was happy. she was victim to various tantrums from time to time, back when her feelings were in jeopardy.

most prominently in her life was her dad’s food stall while her mom made a living elsewhere. in her voice line she mentions chopping 달래, which is wild chives in korean. chives are used frequently in 부추전 (chive pancakes), and is a common street food to find when visiting markets and oriental places. joon-hee has always had that culture born into her blood, with talking to the gossipy halmeoni down the street or giving a snack to the passing highschool students.

she’s been at the front of that shop since she can remember. learning how to cook with her appa was always something she looked forward to when she got home from school, eagerly running out from their home to go help him at the store. eventually, they evolved into a small business when she was in middle school, placed at the corner around their house, and made access to the store easier than before.

joon-hee’s home life was centered mostly on her dad. her siblings didn’t carry the same interest she did in the shop, and though they still knew how to help, it wasn’t the same as her own eager hands. her mother had somewhat of a distaste towards her youngest daughter working so much for their store, but she didn’t voice her dissent for it directly to joon-hee herself. it was clear her mother had a preference for her older siblings, though, and hardly gave joon-hee attention.

at this age, she was still as extroverted and rowdy as ever. good manners have been pressed into her, but she couldn’t resist going out to play soccer with her friends or playing tag. her parents didn’t mind mostly, since she could stay in shape that way, and it tamed joon-hee’s endless energy quite a bit.

she wasn’t the most popular in highschool. friendly, but she was incorporated into a mostly guy friend group with a few girls here and there. aside from working at the store, everything about her life was normal.

a fire. there was a fire in the store and jesus, she didn’t know what to do. her father had passed out in the smoke and she watched as it burned and withered around her. her body had moved on its own that time, and her hands shifted and twisted into fists. and then there was wind, soft like cotton yet harsher than steel. it ripped through the fire, building slowly until it grew more and more.

when it exploded, it didn’t take just her out, but her whole family. and the neighbors. and then the whole district.

by now, radiants had been discovered, but joon-hee never thought that she was going to be one herself. never thought that these ‘myths’ she saw on the news were real, encased in blue spirals that licked up her arm. she didn’t know what happened to these people, so she did what she knew best. she ran.

ran like her soccer practices, ran like she wasn’t a sixteen year old girl who barely had a clasp on the world yet. but she had scowered the streets away from her home and swallowed back the thickness in her throat, the one that had developed ever since she watched her family’s bodies get thrown into her own tornado.

kingdom found her like this. hopelessly lost, in search of a home and somewhere to belong. they took her in, raised her and trained her innocent mind. she was taught how to speak english and was forbade from associating herself with korea and her old identity. now, she was hawk, born out of air and sheer force.

it didn’t mean she forgot, though. her heart was as fragile as her, shriveling away from touch with regret feeling bile on her tongue. they told her that she had potential, that her own strength would pull her through out of any situation. all she had to do was let them help her and the deal was done.

joon-hee was stubborn, but desperate. she wanted her abilities gone, to be able to say that her whole existence and the first light had been a mistake to her. instead, they injected her with poisons, fed her powers to where she wasn’t even sure if she knew herself. this body was artificial, nothing like the lithe canvas used for scraping against grass.

with brain wash and evident threats, joon-hee became hawk. she was harsher, unable to help herself from leaping at someone, with her own management issues going unchecked. but she was the star of the show, not overlooked by either of her siblings. where her dad would encourage her and tell her that his ‘little bird was taking flight already!’

joon-hee encountered sabine while she was there. they didn’t see eye to eye and made nasty comments about each other often, but that was a part of life.

— i realized i wrote more than i had intended for the backstory portion that i’m just gonna.. skip over how jett joined protocol and get into relationships —

brimstone: she likes the man! he’s genuinely like a dad to her, which is hard to say when you look at how she grew up. she’s thankful for him swooping into her life, and while it’s fun to prank him and joke around, jett has always taken his affirmations to heart when it comes to self improvement. she still hates doing the stretches he tells her to do, but she still does them. disrespecting her elders is rude. (they help. but only a little.)

breach: breach? oh, he’s hilarious! jett had laughed her ass off when killjoy told her about how breach had broken her arm when they arm wrestled for the first time, and she holds it against her. it also gave breach respect in jett’s eyes, since such a burly man wouldn’t even go easy on the twig nerd. she challenges him to arm wrestles very now and then, and while she does lose, it’s mostly for jett to use as a measurement for how much she needs to improve. they play games together, too, since he’s such a good sport about it.

cypher: a little cryptic, but she likes him. they’re not the closest agents because of their severe differences, but they occasionally share a sneaky retort to one another after a mission or knock elbows together at the bar. jett has also managed to get him into some of her pranks and jokes every now and then, and they team up on phoenix sometimes when things are just too peaceful in headquarters.

killjoy: psh, her? she’s tech support. though, she did teach jett how to make gingerbread, so she guessed that she was okay to be around. jett likes to go to killjoy to find out what she’s working on and if it’s anything for her. usually the answer is a no, but when it isn’t, the two of them actually make up some pretty chaotic ideas together. if this were a highschool au, jett would totally try to bully killjoy into giving her the homework, and the engineer wouldn’t even need the bullying to give it up. she would rather not be harassed.

omen: he’s spooky, but they get along. omen isn’t a fan of jett’s recklessness, but he compliments her when she does something good, and it made her warm up to him just a little more. sometimes, jett will fly up to omen on a higher up position on site and give him a happy wave or a joke that she heard. the man is dull and numb about it, although one time when she actually got a chuckle out of him, it was like the whole world flipped upside down. jett takes pride in the memory specifically.

phoenix: her partner in crime, obviously. she can go from choking him out to talking about how to end the world together, and it’s one of her favorite things about him. jett tends to have no filter around the man and it’s the same the other way around. they have each other’s backs when it comes to being wingmen for each other or backing the other up on the battlefield. their chemistry is amazing, and while it’s dangerous to have them out together, brimstone would begrudgingly admit that they got a lot done,

raze: blow them all up, raze, jett is here for it! her taste for loudness and explosions goes sated because of the brazilian. the two of them talk about soccer together and play on the weekends, or can be seen in the living room tossing balls to each other by their knees. jett goes to raze when it’s something phoenix won’t understand, and the brazilian has provided to be an actually decent therapist. maybe it should start by opening up first..

reyna: scary. jett can keep up with her, but there’s something about the things that the woman says that sends chills down her spine. she never admits it because she’s fearless and doesn’t give a damn about anyone else, but reyna had told her that she could hear her heart racing and wow, that was really creepy and she may or may not be fearing for her life. they still mingle and talk, and jett can’t help feeling small underneath the woman’s presence. it isn’t to say that she won’t do everything in her power to prove otherwise.

sage: tall and pretty. jett likes having the woman help her out a lot, and the korean can often be seen going in and out of the medbay to check in on her. sage had shared her red ginseng tea for jett’s taro boba drink, and both parties ended up more satisfied than they had initially expected. their relationship is mainly jett flitting around her out of admiration, and they get along well in the whole gal-pals aspect of their bond. sage is like an older sister presence to jett, and she appreciates the woman taking care of her.

skye: skye is entertaining, but it always seems like the woman is a step ahead of her. she’s knowledgeable and buddy buddy with jett, and seems to read the korean so perfectly that the duelist has a hard time countering it. she never gives up, but more often than not, it leaves her feeling flustered and confused. skye pulled jett along to one of her morning ones and had to deal with a sluggish and slow assassin, which was much funnier than skye had thought. she does it occasionally just to dote on the younger woman.

sova: he’s a big baby to her, honestly. she’s seen him melt when sage complimented him before, and her view of him has never been the same since then. jett thinks of him like a walking teddy bear, and talking to him is more relaxing than her regular conversation with phoenix. she has a definite appreciation for him, but she wished that he would get himself out of the sky where she belonged. really, his drone freaked her out. when she mentioned it, he had tagged her with the dart in it, and that had hurt like hell.

viper: viper treats her like a young child. she’s not surprised by it, but it still frustrates her when it rubs in a little too hard. sometimes, the scientist notices this, and quietly reassures jett with something like ‘you did well today, regardless’. she’s back to business immediately after that, making the duelist laugh. jett can successfully talk to viper without fearing for her life too much, and her worries go mostly forgotten until she sees the syringe being pulled out from her lab coat. terrifying.

#valorant #valorant rp #valorant headcannons #valorant scenarios #backstory #angst #valorant jett #jett #valorant relationships #this was such a long one to write but it was still fun

17 notes · View notes

dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Bullet Wound

Follow-up to this discussion with Angel. They ended up doing the surgery in Angel’s room instead of the bar because SOMEBODY forgot that was where we agreed to meet. (It’s me I’m somebody.)

Alastor

Knock knock knock, guess who. It's Doctor Alastor and Nurse Hentai, here with their trademark "surgery with a smile" service.

Angel

He opened the door with one of his tertiary hands. The couple others were busy pressing a pink-stained... _something_ to his shoulder.

" Oh nonono, I ain't drunk enough fa THIS, YET. " Angel knocked back the remainder of whiskey left in the bottle he had before trudging to his minifridge for another. " Is Hentai, uh, gonna hurt? He slimy or some shit? How drunk I gotta be? " His eyes were beginning to lose focus.

Alastor

Alastor's gaze landed on the pink stain. Aha. There was the wound, no doubt. "It'll hurt about as much as you'd expect for something the width of a coffee stirrer to squeeze into a wound and yank a bullet out. I can dull your ability to feel around the injury."

Alastor tilted his head to peer into the minifridge, checking to see how good Angel's stash was. "I think you're quite drunk enough already! Unless you want to sleep the next two weeks." He held up the one bit of surgical equipment he'd visibly brought with him: a bottle of Everclear. "But I'd planned to use this to clean the wound."

Angel

" Oh, ya can?? " he responded with uncharacteristically dulled excitement, " Thank _fuck!_ I would'a gone fa a hit but, uh, _Bolivian Ma'chin' Powder's_ all OUT. An' I gotta... uh, show. Even if just ta say I can't work so I can get my standa'd issue ass kickin' an' come back. "

Angel then stumbled to his chair, flipping it around so he could lean forward off the back. " Just... go nuts. Fuck th' rug. I could get a Daddy ta get me a new one if it gets fucked up. Uh... youse can use th' bench if ya need to. "

Alastor

"What, sending a self-E of the bullet wound isn't a good enough doctor's note?" Alastor tutted.

He unscrewed the bottle; for the moment, he was still standing so he could remain taller than Angel. "Now, this IS going to sting—but I've got to clean you off before I can numb the area. I'd warn you to bite the bullet but—hah—we'll have to fish it out before you can do that, won't we!" And here comes the sting.

Angel

" Nah... he's gonna think I photoshopped it... " he groaned with a reach for a throw pillow to scream into. He would've laughed a little more whole-heartedly if not for the anticipated _agony_ that tensed him so hard he could've bit off his own tongue.

" _UGH THIS IS WHAT I FUCKIN' GET!_ " he muffled into the plush pink, now growing darker from the entrance wound, " Why's good shit gotta HURT so bad? It's so fuckin' _DUMB._ " Angel smothered a few more whines and hisses before getting a handle on his breathing again. " ... Can ya do the numbin' thin', yet...? "

Alastor

Ignore the studio audience laughing at your pain, it's nothing personal.

Alastor lightly brushed off what few drops of fresh blood the alcohol hadn't washed from Angel's fur. "Now I can!" He decided owing a small favor to a prince was worth it so he didn't have to drag a miniature apothecary out of his trunk, looked around for a pen or marker—ah, of course, makeup everywhere—and grabbed a tube of black lipstick. "You don't happen to have any bad blood with Prince Gaap, do you?"

Angel

Angel groaned, metaphorically biting his tongue to hold back any amount of quips or name-calling he would've fired at the hip for the sake of not pissing off the demon that was about to start poking around in him.

" Prince a who? " he asked with an instantly regrettable twist to see what Alastor was doing, " I ain't ever known any _legitimate_ royalty... I don' think... "

Alastor

"Then I'll take that as a no." He scrawled Gaap's sigil on Angel's shoulder around the wound—not his most artistic work, given how fuzzy his canvas was, but Alastor was on good enough terms with enough nobles that they wouldn't nitpick tiny errors in his work. "Now, this will make the area around your wound feel temporarily hale and hearty—but it's only a feeling. You're still just as damaged. Don't jump up and do cartwheels." He finished the double circle around the sigil and the lines started to glow green. Good. "Working yet?"

Angel

Angel took a deep breath as the nerves began to cease fire until finally, he no longer felt the need to scream or cry. Well enough to turn his head, he gave himself a peek in the mirror.

" Yeah... like I wanna do cartwheels, " Angel giggled, " Tell Prince Gaap I said thanks ~ " _An' ask him if he's single,_ he chuckled to himself as he stretched his limbs more comfortably about his chair. " Ya gonna stir me like a cup a coffee, now? " he joked.

Alastor

"I'll pass on your gratitude! Just don't tell him you owe him one if you happen to cross paths with him, he'll take it literally and then we'll both be paying him for the anesthesia."

Alastor huffed. "Once I clean the wound a little more. I don't know if you've noticed, but you've got quite a lot of fur around it." He looked around for some sort of towel that wasn't completely soaked in blood, poured a little more alcohol in it, and finally sat on the bench as he started carefully cleaning the wound itself while trying to avoid disrupting the sigil.

"You don't strike me as the type to get shot in the back," he mused. "What happened here—somebody take you by surprise?"

Angel

" Oh, he's _that_ type, " he commented, deciding on whether or not he should offer a razor. He was already going to be getting a temporary bald spot. May as well...

" If ya needa clear it some, there's clippers off th' side a the mirro- " Angel's arms and legs tightened around the chair as he sank his chin _deep_ into the pillow. _When_ was the last time...? Without the sting to distract him, all there was to focus on was the touch and it made his head swim. He didn't know how to process it, so he reverted to his go-to distraction. " _Funny how I still ended up on th' twink ma'ket cove'ed in all this peach fuzz, ah?_ "

He chuckled bitterly as his eyes swept to the ceiling. " Yeah... somethin' like that... Was a _surprise,_ alright... "

Alastor

"Most nobles are. Out of the ones that bargain with humans, anyway." He grabbed the clippers and very carefully started clearing a patch around the entry wound. "You know, between you being called one and *me* being called one, I'm beginning to think that 'twink' doesn't actually mean anything."

Alastor leaned around Angel's side to give him a vicious grin. "So, tell me about this surprise! You didn't think I was doing this without hoping to get a little entertainment in return!"

Angel

" _It means ya never get ta eat **shit,** that's what it means-!_ " he grumbled.

Then a sudden **gasp.** How the hell he manged to scare him despite being the forefront of his attention was beyond him. " _Fuckin'-_ " he groaned with a turn of his head in the opposite direction, " Was an ex... an angry one... That dramatic enough fa you? "

His claws clenched his skin as he tried to replicate the buzz of the razor into his brain. Sure would be nice if he could uncap his skull and do some doodling in _there._

Alastor

"... *Does it.*" There was a little bit of info Alastor was going to file away and never let go of.

"An ex! Oh, yes, *quite* dramatic enough! What did you do to *him?* That is to say—" One freshly alcohol-soaked claw brushed dangerously close to prying into the wound, "—was this earned, or an overreaction?"

Angel

" Earned. Def'nitely earned. Uh... " Angel pondered. He'd already vague-blogged about the incident. Any opportunity to avoid any scandal was already blown.

" She. I let her 'and it to me. It was th' _least_ I could do. "

Alastor

"*She!* That brings up some questions, doesn't it?" He dropped his impromptu wash cloth on his lap and said, "Now, as much as I'd relish prying this story out of you one detail at a time, unfortunately I won't be free to talk for a bit." He summoned up his cane. "Ready to have an alien abomination pry a bullet out of your back?"

Angel

Angel braced himself. Salt in the wound felt well deserved to him. Even if subconsciously, he'd allow every opportunity to pay for what he did to her. Being pried through by an alien abomination, sitting through a mortifying interview, and being shot point blank was a good enough start.

" Wouldn't be the _first_ time I 'ad tentacles in me ~ " he replied cheekily with a thumbs up, " Just don' let 'im get _too_ carried away, yeah ~ ? "

Alastor

"Oh, I plan to guarantee he won't!" A dark blot, small as an ink stain, opened in the air between them, and a single thin tendril wiggled out. "But while I'm giving him instructions, I won't be listening to closely to you. So!" He swung his cane around in front of Angel. "Take Mic here and let him know if you need me to stop, would you?"

Angel

" _Plan_ ta guarantee...? " He snorted, then crimson eyes flickered. He'd voluntarily _hand_ him that thing? " Yeah, ok ~ " Angel wiped off his bloody fingers and gently took the rod. " Can't feel a thin'- " _Liar._ " -so prolly won't need to. "

" Heyyy, Mic-y, how ya doin' ~ ? " he asked sweetly, turning the instrument about and inspecting him curiously. " Al give ya routine polishin'? Ya just, chill in th' other dimension 'til he calls ya? " Like a set of keys given to a toddler, he was sufficiently distracted.

Alastor

"Oh, I can't complain! It's not allowed in my contract!" The cane rolled its eye. "Naaah, who needs polishing? When I poof off, the dirt doesn't come with me!" It gave Angel a wry look. "Or d'you got another reason for asking how often Al *polishes his cane?* Eh?" Mic's humor was somewhat lowbrow compared to Alastor's usual standards. Usually Alastor would scold it for getting saucy. But right then, Alastor's brain wasn't entirely present.

He couldn't actually give his tentacled "friend" orders, per se. They were too different, too alien for normal person-to-person communication. What Alastor COULD do was broadcast a signal that let him slip into a fragment of a tentacle's mind and pilot it directly; but when he was doing so, when he was making sense of the world as the alien beast saw it, he wasn't exactly able to, say, process language.

If Angel happened to turn around, he'd see that Alastor's eyes had gone blank and filled with static. But he probably shouldn't turn around, since that was when Alastor managed to seize control of the noodle-thin tentacle that had wriggled through and fed the tip of it into the wound.

Angel

" Hehehe! I getcha, I getcha. Talk back get smacked, ah? " Angel couldn't can more giggles, but he did feel the need to do some scolding in Alastor's place. At least, as much as he _assumed_ he should.

" Buh-BUH! Shouldn't ya know better than ta be talkin' deer dick? At least, _more than me_? Ta at least keep it in th' context a dick seasoned up real nice on a silver platter? " He snickered deviously, remembering certain debaucheries he'd engaged in both before and after death. " I _like_ ya, though! Wonder how much fun ya'd be _outta_ contract ~ "

Gently tapping the deep red surface of the back with a pristinely manicured claw, Angel had a sudden urge to seize an opportunity he might not get later. " Hey... can ya do that radio thin' ta _my_ voice? "

Alastor

"You can't have slapstick without the stick! And what'm I if not a stick? You ain't gettin' me outta contract, though. That's not how it works."

(Alastor, meanwhile, has slithered the tentacle in deep enough to reach the bullet. Pardon the weird feeling as it wraps around the intrusion, and then prods briefly past the bullet to make sure it didn't penetrated Angel's lung. Whole new can of worms if it did.)

"No can do! You wanna get your voice broadcast outta the radio, sure, I'm the Mic for the job, long as Alastor's authorizing the broadcast. But if you wanna GET the radio voice? Uh-uh. Only way to sound like the Radio Demon is to BE the Radio Demon."

Angel

An eye twitched as he took a breath and felt that internal pinch. Sans the pain of one, the sensation reminded him of an air bubble he'd have to spend several minutes patting out until he could finally take a deeper breath again. He shallowed his lungs and stayed still as he could with a held breath until the tendril retreated. A deep, testing sigh of relief, then he shook his head with a glance to the mirror. Alastor sure was getting _busy._ He trusted he was in good hands.

" Nah, I don't wanna do _that._ Just wanna give ya singin' a lil' try. Not _everyday_ ya passed off t' another demon, am I right? Specially not a _talented_ one like yours truly ~ " Angel pouted and pursed his brows. " C'mon ~ Just this once! I promise I'll _do ya right ~_ "

Alastor

"Ya wanna sing, then sing! But I can't give you the voice any more than I can give you deer antlers. It ain't transferrable. It's *his.*"

And there was the bullet being slowly dragged backwards out of the wound it had caused. Carefully. But they probably weren't going to completely avoid doing a little extra damage.

Angel

" 'Tis almost th' season, Sweetie, I can give _m'self_ antle's if I wanted to ~ " He then rolled his eyes and relented, followed by some sensational weirdness in his shoulder cavity. Checking in wasn't his first instinct. It was, of course, to _play._ He'd never nail Alastor's southern belle, so he let his register drop as he casually snapped and tapped his own beat with Mic dramatically in hand. ( At least, theatrically as he could while being an obedient patient. )

https://youtu.be/eAiMOTlUVv4

Alastor

Bullet retrieved. Alastor's eyes snapped back to normal as the tentacle withdrew into its portal, dropping the bullet as it did. He caught it, but waited until the end of the song to speak up. "Not bad." He held the bullet over Angel's shoulder. "Do you want this little troublemaker?"

Angel

" Hehe! _Thanks ~ !_ " Angel took the bullet in a free hand to inspect it for shatter. Thankfully, it was all in one piece. Hentai wouldn't have to do any further digging. " What I owe ya? This thin' gonna last 'til it heals, or should I get ready ta go Vicodin huntin' _now?_ " he asked with an experimental roll of his shoulder and another check in the mirror.

Alastor

"Go Vicodin hunting. And also bandage it up, change the bandage twice daily, check for infection, et cetera et cetera." He stood, stretched, and his cane poofed out of Angel's hand and into his own. "As for what you owe me... Give me the rest of the story about this ex of yours and if I think it's interesting enough, we'll call it square."

Angel

" ... Ya ain't gonna be reco'din' it, are ya? " he asked solemnly, " Ah fuck whatever... " Angel threw himself into mercy and rummaged around his drawers for bandages.

" I 'ad a squeeze t' get the Outfit off m'back, " he began, " Drew it out as long as I could but uh, _women's_ a pretty hot topic wit' th' boys. Older I got... y'know. _Family._ They's wantin' _kids._ Big ol' fuckin'... Italian _famiglia_ ta' keep th' bootleg business goin'. "

Was it the pain of the memory or the pressure of the wrapping? Angel was thankful for it. He even dabbed at himself a bit forcefully to override any involuntary bodily response to the whole ordeal.

Alastor

"You have my solemn vow that I won't start recording." That wasn't a promise that he wasn't already recording.

Alastor could guess where this story was going; his grin widened in anticipatory schadenfreude. "Go on."

Angel

As Alastor's grin widened, Angel's eyes narrowed. He tucked his bandage and leaned back against his vanity.

" She's was _-IS-_ like you. I was about as inta her as she was inta anyone else. At least, when I wasn't mistakin' 'er fa a guy. We's was dumb kids, grew up t'gether in the same mafia network. We knew th' game an' we knew we 'ad ta play it. So we _made a deal._ "

" I broke it in, uh... 1944. "

Alastor

Now there was a twist Alastor hadn't been expecting. He'd anticipated a young bride doe-eyed with love and a young groom miserably trying to pretend it was reciprocated. But a mutual ruse was far more interesting.

And far more relatable. It wasn't very far off from his own parents' arrangement—except that theirs hadn't involved the Mafia.

"Let me guess. Get handcuffed together, play the happy couple in front of the family, ignore each other at home? Something like that?" And the one point that actually concerned him—"Were children involved?"

Angel

" No. We were very close, very convincin'. She was m' best frien'. Like Cherri, I didn' deserve 'er. E'ryone thought we was wildin' in the sack, but it never happened. No sex, no kids, just... two murderin' peas in a pod playin' th' most convincin' game a pretend... 'til I couldn't anymo'e. "

" _Could_ say we 'ad kids involved, though _THEM_ fuckin' wild childs could 'ardly bc counted. They was lil' monste's from the Forty-Two. Loved 'em like m'own. Some's prolly down 'ere. "

Alastor

Good—if they'd gotten offspring involved, that would have just been distasteful. Outside children that Angel actually liked were a different matter entirely.

"So, what did the grand breakdown look like? A big blowout fight and a demand for a divorce? No—Catholic, I presume—attempted murder?" He cocked an eyebrow. "*Successful* murder?"

Angel

Angel actually bursted a laugh. " Nope! Wasn't really... a _single thin-_ ok, it was, but uh, said _breakdown_ was less of a _single act_ an' more of a... "

His eyes searched the air for dates, encounters. It didn't help he didn't remember most of it, but he shrugged thinking that was enough indication in itself.

" _Buncha dragged out climaxes_ fa th' next... three years a so. Then I died an' left 'er ta face th' music all 'er own. Hence... " He then tapped at his shoulder and shrugged as if violence was the logical answer to beginning to level a half century-long grudge.

" She's workin' fa Rosie now. Keepin' th' fucks off 'er turf. I was one a them, " he snickered.

Alastor

Well that was the least subtle euphemism Alastor had ever heard. "You mean the prenuptial agreement for your marriage of convenience didn't include provisions for you to sleep around?" Alastor shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. "I can forgive her for the lapse—it takes multiple lessons to learn that you sexual people aren't exaggerating when you say the allure of sex is irresistible—but *you* ought to have known better!"

But never mind that, there was a personal connection now. "Well, it's a small underworld after all! If she's working for Rosie, then *I* might know her! What's her name—down here, I mean?"

Angel

" That was fa show! " he burst defensively, " We was bound by nothin' but laws an' laws is fake! " Angel pouted with a quadruple arm cross. He hadn't even _intended_ that innuendo as much as he meant to convey the feeling of being constantly at the edge of your seat for years. That'd drive _any_ sane person wild.

" She didn't _care_ who I fucked with! If ya ask _me,_ it's her _own fuckin' fault_ I went off th' 'andle because she had ta fuckin' PLAY WINGMAN AT THE MENAGERIE! "

He ignored Alastor's question of her identity at the moment. He was much too offended and much too defensive to let any shaming go unchecked, untouched by the oblivion of his violent self-assurance.

Alastor

Alastor laughed at the outburst. "Well, if she didn't care who you were crawling under the covers with, then what in the world is it you did in '44 that constituted such a great break from your 'agreement'? You didn't try to kill her, by mutual agreement you weren't cheating—what's left? Beatings? Framing her for infidelity? Eloping with a rival don's son?"

Angel

He clamped his jaw shut, gritting gold grinding into a horrid sound that soundtracked his anger. Angel didn't want to tell him any more than Alastor was surely not going to be letting it go. Should he just lie? Was that better than letting this asshole in on what was arguably _the_ most defining moment of his life?

" I already told you. I died. I left her alone when we were supposed to get through the fucking SHITSHOW together. '44 was just the year I _started..._ dying. "

Alastor

Alastor was silent for a moment as he processed that—and Angel's atypically somber tone at the announcement—and then, at last, said, "Some betrayal. Most people can't help dying—even the people who do it to themselves." Well, it didn't make for an exciting conclusion to the story—he could vaguely imagine the drama and trauma of the story in action, but the retelling left most of it out.

Still—a sham marriage in the middle of mobster family politics; it was a good enough story. "But, very well! Consider your surgery paid for. And I suppose if the two of you think that was reason enough for her to shoot you—HA!"

Alastor suddenly slapped Angel's shoulder. (By sheer luck, at least it was the uninjured shoulder.) "Have you ever heard that joke? 'My ex-wife still misses me—but her aim's getting better!'" Studio audience laughter. "I guess she doesn't miss you!"

Sometimes Alastor kills himself.

Angel

He _almost_ wished he had slapped his injured shoulder, just so he'd have a more solid reason to hit him back. Nonetheless, he managed to dodge _that_ bullet so Angel figured he could call it a day. A day to start dealing opioids.

" Yeah. She didn't miss, alright. " The corner of his mouth could only twitch. He wasn't consciously _stifling_ a smile, but his every deep-seated instinct to self-destruct at the slightest brush with self-awareness took more effort than he had to deal.

" Bel. La Donna. Like th' poison. She's like yay high an' redder than ya fuckin' mop before ya treatment. A spider. Like me. "

Alastor

"Oh, come now, that was funny and you know it."

Alastor's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh! *Bel!* Yes, we're acquainted! Not *well*, but well enough we'd be obligated to say hello if we passed on the street. My, my, it really *is* a small underworld."

Angel

" Aw _fuck,_ " he groaned, " Best _keep_ it that way. This place is already starting to feel like Double Hell. Last thin' I need's YOU TWO tag-teamin' me... "

Angel then lazily fished for his phone and hit up a dealer. " I'm gonna head out fa meds. Youse- " He hesitated. " ... gonna need anythin'? I'll replace ya everclear. "

Alastor

"Don't you worry! We don't talk much. Anyway, if she's gone this long without spreading the news around Rosie's inner circle that her ex-husband is Hell's biggest porn star, I doubt she has any interest in discussing it now."

He shook his head; he got the story behind the bullet, he had his payment. "It wasn't my bottle, I got it for this."

Angel

" Heh heh... that's the funny thin', " he confessed, " _She ain't known I was goin' by Angel Dust until t'day._ " He picked up a jacket and shrugged through the sleeves. " She always knew how ta cover my tracks. I _don't know_ how generous she's gonna be _now,_ but... here's hopin' she's satisfied with gettin' me penetrated by an alien named Hentai. "

He snickered, returning some to his usual self. " Thanks anyways. Ya didn't have t' be helpin' me out. "

Alastor

"And what's she going to do if she doesn't feel generous? Tell people that the famed porn star Angel Dust married a beard when he was alive? I hardly think that would cause a scandal down here!"

He waved off the thanks. "I'm perpetually bored and bullet wounds are almost always interesting."

Angel

" Oh you'd be surprised ~ Though. I don't think she's the type. Prolly just shoot me again fa hidin' from 'er all these years. "

He snickered and shot Alastor some fingerguns. " If she does, I'll let her hit somethin' interestin' fa ya ~ "

Alastor

Alastor tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes, that... does sound like her.” He didn’t know a lot about Bel, but he knew THAT. How had Angel described himself and her, murderous peas in a pod or something of the sort? “See if you can’t persuade her to avoid the lungs and the bowels. Those are a pain to deal with. For me. But I imagine they’d also be a pain on the receiving end!”

Angel

" _The heart it is then ~_ " he sang with a wink, landing a heavy hand upon Alastor's shoulder on his way towards the door, " If ya see 'er aroun', be good ta her, ah? I should be back in time fa late dinner. "

Alastor

"A classic! How symbolic."

He gave Angel a farewell nod as he headed out himself. "I'll set aside some leftovers for you." *Never get to eat shit,* his ass. Not on his watch.

#sluttyspiderpolkacock #chat log

10 notes · View notes

captainkippen · 4 years

Text

Right, this is the beginning of the first chapter of An Fic. It is not finished. Nowhere near it. I’m giving freewriting a go. I have no plan for this please don’t ask me where it’s going. Tell me if it’s too out of character/too boring/too Not Andi Mack to continue. Maybe I’ll change the names and turn it into an original if so, who knows.

Anyway, TW for smoking I guess. PG 13 for swearing? Reader’s discretion advised?

"Shut up. I'm having a mid-life crisis."

"You're twenty-one."

"Fine, an almost-quarter-life crisis or something, whatever."

"You know, I've seen you overreact before, but this time really takes the cake. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Pfft. It's a great idea. The best idea I've ever had."

"You literally just said yourself that you're having a crisis."

TJ let out a long suffering sigh and glared at Marty. Andi snickered from where she was perched on the edge of the tub behind him. She had two gloved hands covered in bright green sludge buried deep in TJ's hair.

"Don't worry, Marts," she said. "I used to help Bex do her hair all the time when she got bored. If it goes wrong, we can just cut it off. Hair grows back usually."

"Usually?!" TJ spluttered, attempting to turn and face her only to be held in place by her firm grip.

Marty snorted. "Still sure about this?"

"Shut UP, Marty. Jeez. You're worse than my mom."

"Hey, your mom is saint. I really admire her. How she put up with your annoying all these years without committing murder, I don't know."

That earned him the bird and he snorted again, blowing smoke into T.J's face. The bathroom of their crappy apartment didn't have a smoke detector, which was probably the only reason Marty was even sat in the room with them.

"Gross," Andi said appreciatively. She might have stolen the cigarette had her hands not been busy. TJ wrinkled his nose at the two of them. He wouldn't say anything, it hadn't worked the first thousand times and it wouldn't work now, but he had learned that if he made enough disgusted faces Marty would eventually put out his smoke.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes at TJ's face and stubbed it out in the sink. "I'm meant to be quitting anyway. I promised Buffy."

"You made that promise like three months ago."

"Well I gotta have at least one flaw, otherwise it wouldn't be fair to you mere mortals, would it now?" Marty grinned and stood up, stretching his arms up until his back gave a satisfying click.

"Careful bro," TJ said. "If your head gets any bigger you won't be able to get out of the door."

It was Marty's turn to cheerfully flip him off. As he wandered out of the bathroom he called over his shoulder asking if they wanted any snacks. TJ was pretty sure they only had ketchup and coffee left in the kitchen.

"So, this mid-life crisis of yours," Andi said, slipping some more dye on to TJ's head. It slid against his scalp cold and unpleasant, dripping down his neck in a wet mess. "You think green is gonna fix it?"

He considered this for a moment. "Nah, probably not. But it'll make me feel better about it, feels productive."

"Turning in your assignments would probably feel more productive."

"Hey, I thought we banned school talk from bathroom time."

"I'm just saying-"

"Did you finish your figure drawing assignment yet?"

"...touché."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Marty loped back in holding a paper plate with an unwrapped Twinkie carefully cut into three pieces on it. Andi let him shove one unceremoniously into her mouth without a word.

It had become a sort of tradition. Well... not a tradition. TJ didn't know what you would call it. A habit maybe? Anyways, it had become usual for the three of them to hang out in the bathroom. Sometimes they'd be joined by friends and roommates. Two or three of them cramped in the tub, maybe splitting a bottle of cheap wine between them all, someone else balanced on the toilet seat and another sprawled across the floor. Today, everyone else was out.

It was only TJ and Marty that lived in the apartment of the three of them. They had two other roommates, Walker and Jonah, who were pretty decent guys. Walker was an art major like Andi and Jonah had awesome taste in music. Sometimes he and TJ would walk to campus together, they were both based in the music department, but other than that and a vaguely similar interest in sports they didn't really have anything in common.

Buffy, Marty's girlfriend and (by apparent coincidence) Andi's childhood best friend with whom she was now reconnecting, sometimes swing by to join them too. However, her disgust at just how useless four boys could be at keeping their apartment in order often kept her at bay.

"So I had this dream right," TJ said.

"Oh God."

"No, it's good right. Because it made me, like, realise I should be doing something."

Andi and Marty exchanged amused looks. They were used to it, TJ's various whims and impulses and Important Decisions About The Future That Usually Turned Out To Be Not So Important. They found it funny. TJ might be offended if it weren't for the fact he had listened to them spout of conspiracy theories more times than he could count.

"Go on," Andi prompted.

"Okay, so like... I'm standing on this cliff, right? Like on the very very edge of it. And I'm staring out to sea all dramatic and shit, and then suddenly it gives way underneath me, right? And I'm falling and falling, and I look down and there's just like... nothing there."

Another pause. "...and that's it?"

"That's it. That's the dream."

"Okay, lay it out for me. How did you go from falling off a cliff to dyeing your hair green? Give me the logic. I wanna follow your train of thought here."

He takes a deep breath, trying to shake away the lightheadedness the mingling scents of cigarettes and ammonia is bringing on, then twists around to face her.

"When you're falling to your death you're supposed to reminisce about, like, all the good shit you did in your life before you fell to your death right? And for me it was a total blank. Like nothing. Like I haven't lived."

Marty groaned. "Not this again."

"What?"

"Last time you wanted to 'live your life' we got arrested."

"Well, if you had run faster-"

"Fuck you! I run faster than you, asshole. It's not my fault there were literal guard dogs-"

"Guys!" Andi interrupted before they could really get going. They both muttered half hearted apologies with a huff.

"The point is," TJ resumed. "The point is that I've done, like, zero important things in my life. And we're adults now, y'know? I can't just bum around doing nothing forever. I wanna do something that /matters/."

Andi rolled her eyes. "'Adult' is a strong word for a guy who just this week learned what fabric softener is."

"I never claimed to be Martha Stewart."

Marty laughed. "You're criminal enough to be."

"Okay but," Andi said, before another bickering match could spark up. "The real point is... we're only in our twenties. Pretty sure we're not meant to have everything figured out yet, right? I mean, we haven't even graduated yet."

TJ and Marty both hissed.

"The G word is also banned, remember?"

Andi made a face, but didn't press the point. She hated thinking about the future just as much as the guys did. None of them knew what they wanted to do. They spent all their time in sleezy bars moshing to terrible local punk bands, getting drunk in a tub and watching Andi paint in the student studios. TJ couldn't imagine any of them with office jobs. He said as much.

"It's two thousand and five," Marty complained in response. "We should totally have robots to do all the boring jobs by now."

TJ agreed. How could humanity not yet be at the point where everybody could just sit back and relax? They had the internet for crying out loud.

"So what're you gonna do?" Andi asked.

TJ pondered this for a moment.

"I'm gonna start a band."

***

Sometimes Cyrus seriously hated his friends.

Not in an actual 'I wish I didn't know you' way but in an 'oh my god you suck so hard right now' kind of way. Tonight was one of those times. He would never say that to them, of course, he had no desire to hurt anybody’s feelings, but a little mental cursing never hurt anyone.

He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. Rain smattered down on the concrete around him. Water seeped through the canvas of his sneakers, soaking his socks and mood both at once. He was cold, wet and fed up. Buffy had asked him to meet her here, outside some dingy rock club filled with scary kids wearing studs and too much makeup, but she was nowhere to be found. She had answered her phone when he called, but the line mostly crackled and all he got was a muffled "-inside" from here.

Whatever. It was fine. It was totally cool that he was stuck out here being eyed by suspicious punks and scary scene kids. It was great. He could totally cope with the fact that the bouncer wouldn't let him in because he forgot his I.D and apparently he looked like he was twelve years old. Totally, totally fine.

A truck roared down the street, sending a fresh wave of freezing water over the legs of his pants and shoes.

Screw this. He was going home.

He hadn't even wanted to come out in the first place. He should be back in his nice cosy dorm room, preferably doing the lit assignment he had due in on Monday, maybe wrapped in a blanket. Yeah, his dorm sounded pretty great right now, even if he did have the roommate from hell.

Fate had other plans. Right as he made the decision to head back, he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Buffy waving frantically from the door. Huffing to himself, he turned back again and headed to meet her.

"He's with us," Buffy said with a smile to the bouncer. The guy looked doubtful as Cyrus slipped passed, but he didn't question it again.

"The reception is really bad in here," Buffy said, apologetically. "But you found the place okay, right? I mean you're here, so that's good. I didn't think you'd come."

Cyrus doesn't tell her that he almost didn't. He had been perfectly ready to stay in his dorm all night, even though it was a Friday night and he had little to no social life at the current moment in time with all the work his professors had been throwing at him. Except, then, Reed (roommate from hell) had come banging into the room, talking loudly into his cellphone to some girl. Cyrus had been able to stand it for about ten minutes, and then he got tired of the word "baby".

A night at some dive being shoved around by sweaty drunks wasn't much of an improvement, but at least he didn't have to listen to Reed's obnoxious flirting.

"It's cool you came," Buffy continued. "I think you'll like these guys, they're Andi and Marty's friends, y'know? They've even got some songs recorded now... did you know Gus- you know Gus Knight? Did you know he's running a studio in his mom's basement? He has all the equipment and everything. It's crazy."

"Crazy," Cyrus agreed, narrowly avoiding getting elbowed by a teary girl yelling and gesturing at a boy that looked too out of it to be taking in what she said. "So when are they meant to go on?"

The problem was that Cyrus liked music. He thought it was fun, especially if you could dance to it, and who didn't like to listen to their iPod on the bus? But Buffy's friends' world seemed to revolve around music, more specifically punk music, and the whole scene that came with it. He had accepted a few of their invitations to hang out to be polite, but most of them involved parties and shows.

As a kid he'd figured that was what you were meant to do in college - party and drink. What he'd learned from actually being in college? He didn't like to party and drink. He had no problem with other people doing it, obviously, but he'd rather he was far away from them while they did. Drunk people had a habit of throwing up on him, and in crowds like this Cyrus had lost his shoe more than once. They might be wet, but tonight he felt like keeping his shoes firmly on his feet. Preferably not covered in somebody's dinner.

#tyrus #andi mack

54 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 5 years

Text

Amour Vincit Omnia / 2

Akira let out a loud huff as she started at the stretch of traffic in front of her, realizing that today probably wasn’t going to be her best day. It had been a week since the night of the show at the gallery and she didn’t manage to make even one sell. Not even to the guy with the blue hair, which pissed her off more than anything else because for someone who supposedly loved her work so much, why not help her out by buying one?

So on top of her failure to support herself doing what she loves the most, she was running late today and she knew that Jin was going to have her head for being late, and being criticized even more wasn’t something that she was sure she could handle today.

After sitting in traffic for another 20 minutes, she managed to make it to the gallery only 10 minutes late, but then that 10 minutes turned into 20 when she couldn’t find a space to park. Needless to say, when she walked into the gallery and saw Jin waiting for her next to the front entrance, she held her hand up at him to stop his tirade before it even started.

“I know I’m late, I had a rough start today and it won’t happen again,” she ranted, making Jin’s eyes widen.

“I guess I’ll cut you some slack because you do look a little...rough today,” he winced, his eyes raking over her in her blue sweater, dark jeans, and silver flip flops. “Forgot you were coming to work today huh?”

“I’m working the desk so they’ll only see my shirt,” she shrugged as she walked over to the sign in sheet to write her name down. “Calm down.”

“I’m just teasing,” Jin said as he smiled lightly at her. “Get to work, alright?”

“Yes Sir,” Akira saluted, making him laugh as he walked away. She then walked over to the front desk, where Jimin and her other friend Cassie where siting.

“Hey Kira,” Jimin greeted her with his usual bright smile, handing her a small stack of mail that was addressed to her.

“And where the hell have you been?” Cassie demanded to know, making Akira laugh as she glanced over the mail in her hands.

“Hello to you too Cassandra,” Akira smirked. “I’m just great. How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t have to stay over my shift for your ass all the time,” she sassed with a smile.

“As if you had any other plans.”

“I do have a man at home, you know.”

“I’d hardly call Hobi a man,” Akira scoffed, shrieking loudly when Cassie threw a small stress ball at her in retaliation. “I’m kidding! How’s he been doing?”

“Still working on the music thing with Joon and Yoongi,” she said as she stood up and gathered her things.

“We all need to plan another get together soon,” Akira said, frowning when she realized how long it had been since her group of friends had been able to hangout altogether. Adulting sucked.

“Oh, we should,” Jimin interjected. “And Tae’s finally in town so he should be able to come.”

“Me and Cassie will finally get to meet the infamous Tae?” Akira gasped as she moved to take Cassie’s place behind the desk.

“He actually finally took the plunge like the rest of us and just moved here,” Jimin revealed.

“We definitely need to make this friend get together happen then,” Akira laughed.

“Absolutely,” Cassie agreed with a giggle. “I have to go guys, but I’ll try to set something up with everyone else, alright?”

“OK. Bye Cass,” Akira said, she and Jimin both waving as Cass left the gallery. “What’s been going on today?” She then asked, turning towards Jimin.

“Nothing much, the usual,” Jimin shrugged. “Oh! Someone called and said that they wanted to come and purchase one of your pieces from the show last week.”

“Really?” She gasped excitedly, a wide smile spreading on her face.

“What was that about not caring if anyone bought your work or not?” Jimin smirked at seeing her reaction.

“Listen, I’m sick of having to eat ramen,” she admitted with a chuckle. “Do you know who the buyer is?”

“Nah, whoever it is must be pretty important though,” Jimin murmured. “They had their assistant call and set up the purchase.”

“Hmm,” she hummed in reply. Call her greedy, but Akria lowkey hoped that whoever was buying the painting would pay her more than what she was asking for it. She was really getting sick of ramen.

Another 20 minutes passed by uneventfully, with no visitors to the gallery and Jimin even getting up to go get lunch for the two of them after the 15 minute mark. Akira was on her phone, scrolling through Twitter when she heard someone clear their throat.

“I wonder what Jin hyung would say if he knew that his employee was on the phone during her shift.” Akira looked up and her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the same blue haired man from the night of the art show.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, setting her phone down on the desk.

“Is that how you greet your visitors?” Taehyung wondered with a tilt of his head, the same smirk on his face from a week ago.

“Hi, welcome to the Healing Gallery, where we make art for the soul,” she chirped, putting on her best fake customer service smile. ”Now what are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to,-”

‘Taehyungie?!” Taehyung whipped around and sped walked over to Jimin, who hugged him so tightly that Akira was sure that Taehyung’s circulation was getting cut off.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin questioned as he unwrapped himself from Taehyung, walking over to the desk and setting down the two bags of food that he had gotten in front of Akira.

“I came for a proper visit. You know that I haven’t seen Jin hyung’s new gallery ever since he opened it,” Taehyung replied.

“Wait,” Akira interjected, making the both of them look down at her. “You two know each other?”

“Oh Akira, this is Taehyung or Tae,” Jimin introduced and her jaw dropped slightly.

“This is Tae?” She exclaimed, a clipped laugh escaping her mouth.

“Has someone been talking shit about me behind my back again?” Taehyung wondered as he looked over at Jimin.

“I mean, if you consider telling Jimin telling me that you pulled down your pants and peed in a public fountain when you guys were teenagers talking shit about you, then yeah,” Akira giggled.

“Jimin!”

“What?” Jimin shrugged. “It’s an iconic story.”

“That doesn’t mean tell that you have to tell everyone that you meet,” Taehyung groaned.

“Wait, do the two of you know each other?” Jimin queried.

“We met each other the night of the art show,” Taehyung replied.

“And he boasted about how he appreciated my talent for art but yet he didn’t buy one,” Akira added, a smirk on her face as Taehyung looked down at her.

“Tae, how many times have you sat in on the discussions we’ve had about paying artists their due?” Jimin scolded.

“That’s also why I’m here,” Taehyung chuckled. “I came to buy that cityscape from you.”

“You’re the buyer?” Akira gasped. This was a lot for one day.

“Yes, I am,” he confirmed.

“That didn’t sound like you on the phone though,” Jimin pointed out.

“I’ve been in meetings all day so I had my assistant call.”

“Ah, ok,” Jimin nodded. “Well, I’ll go get the painting from the back for you. Akira?” He called and she looked over at him. “Be nice.”

“Go get the painting,” she said as she rolled her eyes. With a smile, Jimin walked away and Akira turned her gaze to Taehyung.

“So, an assistant huh?” She teased. “What is it that you do?”

“Oh, is that the only thing that Jimin hasn’t told you?” He shot back and Akira’s eyes widened at his quick comeback. Impressive.

“He said that you don’t really tell people,” she shrugged. “Figured I could ask the source.”

“How about you ask me while I take you out on a date?” He wondered and Akira scoffed lightly as she shook her head.

“I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t wanna know that badly,” she replied with a smile and Taehyung couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips from her comment. Just then, Jimin came back carrying Akira’s painting in his hands.

“Here you go Tae,” Jimin said as he handed it to him.

“Just as beautiful as I remember it,” Taehyung sighed as he held the canvas out at arm’s length. “How much do I owe you?”

“$200,” she answered, watching as Taehyung pulled out his wallet and took out five crisp $100 bills before handing them off to her. “Taehyung, I said only $200.”

“I know, but consider the extra an apology for me taking so long to come back and get it,” he smirked before looking over at Jimin. “I’ll call you later, ok?”

“Yeah, we can finally plan something since you’re in town,” Jimin nodded.

“Of course. Bye you guys,” he waved before turning and walking out of the gallery. Akira looked down at the money in your hands and realized that there was a small piece of white paper in between them. She pulled it out and read over it, rolling her eyes as a small smile spread over her lips.

I meant what I said about your talent. I’d also love to get to know you more. Feel free to call me anytime, 212-359-5268.- Kim Taehyung

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bts reactions #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts scenarios #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff

122 notes · View notes

theheartchoice · 5 years

Text

Providence

dean/cas | teen | 2k | canonverse s6 | ao3

for @profoundnet's bi-weekly Bot Stat challenge. prompt issued: July 9th 2019

dedicated to @saltnhalo ~ crack-free! 😘

Dean is cleaning his gun. Cas is the pizzaman. Sam is on the demon blood again.

Dean doesn't miss the apple-pie life, not really. He's a Hunter and this is what they do, this is the life for him. Doesn't mean he can't do with some small comforts, now and then. Or some hope - even if it's just a clue to find a way to stop the stuff of nightmares from wreaking havoc on the world. Pizza helps, too.

So, she broke things off.

..Unclip the mag..

So what?

..Clear the chamber..

Not like Dean really expected it to last, right?

..This cloth probably needs to be thrown..

Guess it was nice while it lasted.

..Where's the pipe cleaner?..

Maybe it would've been nice to last a while longer.

..Need more oil..

Had a whole year, though. And it was a pretty good year, as Hunter standards go.

..Should grab some rock salt, too. Runnin' low..

Sure as hell wasn't perfect. Dean was no model boyfriend or parental figure. Not with all his baggage, his demons.

..Need to make a list. Probably need a bunch of stuff. Wonder if Soulless Sammy's hacked any more cards yet..

That life isn't the thing to miss, though. That's not the life for him. He misses them. Her smile, her strength, her warmth. Little Ben growing up so fast, Dean pained he'll miss the rest. But he's not that guy - Mr. Family Man. They deserve better.

..They can hit the store before they leave town. Baby needs fuel. Grab some Johnny to replace the backup. Get outta dodge before the rains come. Sam can find 'em a case once they hit the interstate. They need snacks for the road, too. With any luck they'll find some monster to gank by nightfall..

Dean's only halfway through with their arsenal when his stomach reminds him he's past due for supper. Dinner had been a bust; Soulless Sam needs a lesson in acceptable menu classics, asap. Forget beheading a vamp with a baseball bat he could've sworn wasn't on the pitch a moment earlier - Dean'll be lucky not to get salmonella poisoning from that so-called food!

The mini fridge is bare, the cooler barer - unless you count half a dozen syringes of Dead-Man's blood. Dean doesn't. But considering Sam's choice for dinner, maybe he does? Never again. Sam is off food-duty until further notice.

What Dean could really go for, right now, is some pizza. Extra Large and all to himself. There's gotta be takeout menus around here somewhere.

He's barely scuffed one boot over the worn carpet when there's a rap at the door. At midnight. Sam wouldn't knock. Soulless Sam even less likely.

Grabbing one from the newly-cleaned stash, Dean silently draws up into the crook of wall between door and curtained window, gun cocked. Swift to pull it open and hard to throw himself against it, on the other side of that door is the last person Dean expected to see. "Cas?" Standing in a fuzzy halo of sickly yellow halogen, holding a goddamned miracle in his arms. "Is that pizza?"

"I thought you might be hungry."

"For me?" Cas nods. Dean yanks him - and the pizza - inside. "I'm starved, actually. That's some good timin'."

And so much for the brief trip into Bizarro World where a certain Angel actually respects personal space; Cas' hands are on Dean - shoulder and forehead as he tries to lean over the table, flipping the lid to inspect the toppings. Meatlovers and extra BBQ sauce. Awesome. But those hands are turning him away from pizza, now. "What's up with you?"

"You're not in any stage of starvation, Dean. You're in perfect health.. Aside from you-.. your wrist." He takes Dean's arm from bicep to sprain without hesitation. "What happened?"

It's kinda hard to shrug outta the grip of a guy who could literally throw you as far as the eye can see. "Vamp nest. But we got 'em, no biggy." No more deaths once they arrived in town, too, which was a nice change. "Can we eat? Sam bought, like, raw fish for dinner, man - I think it's still swimmin' around in there." Dean eyes the garbage where he tossed his takeout container, forcing back bile at the memory: one hasty bite before he'd realised his mistake. It had been.. slimy.

One of Cas' hands slips from his bicep to palm over Dean's stomach. The other leaves his wrist, at least, so Dean seizes the moment and steals the nearest slice from the box; chase away a bad memory with something good. OH, yeah - screw clouds - this is heaven.

"Nihon unagi."

"Huh―?" Dean tries not to let the precious pizza tumble from his mouth.

"Freshwater eel, and they're not swimming. Not consciously, anyway."

Dean's jaw stills. He stares at Cas.

"Digestive enzymes."

Oh, of course.

Cas' eyes refocus on Dean's pizza. No - his hand. His injury. "May I..?"

Mid-chew, Dean figures it can't hurt. He switches his pizza from right to left and holds out the sprain he'd forgot he had.

Cas' hand closes careful around it, a slip of warmed ice flowing quick through Dean's veins - and then his minor injury is minor no more.

"Thanks," Dean murmurs, and follows it with another mouthful of beef and pepperoni.

Cas leaves him to his second slice to survey the room. "Where is Sam?"

"Li'b'ary.." This is food. This is what every meal should taste like. All the meat, rich with smokey goodness. "R'se'rch."

"I thought you said the case was over?" Cas regains some proximity to the little round table where Dean stands with hips hugging the large pizza box. He takes a few moments to chew, swallow - rushing the savour-part, but Angels don't really understand the pleasure of a good pizza-pie, now do they?

"Not that. Purgatory." With slice #3 in hand, he realises he's got nothing to wash it down with. Slightly annoyed, he leads Cas past the bed laden with guns to the one neatly made with a duffel bag open on top. He pulls out a book, hands it over. "Officially, it's a work of fiction, and we still don't really know what we're dealin' with exactly, but.." He takes another bite. "..There may be a way to counteract the spell Crowley plans on usin'. Last line of defense, sorta thing."

Cas goes pensive and Dean goes back to his pizza, leading Cas over to their Wall of Crazy. They're still trying to track Crowley's whereabouts; It's ongoing. Vamps get beheaded on slow progress days.

"It's almost midnight."

So..?

"The library would be closed."

Dean gawks. "You know what time libraries close in small-town America?" Cas nods, clearly not seeing the issue. Whatever. "Not a library, a church. Secret archive in the foundations. The pastor, Father Roberto, let him in, a favour for takin' care of the vamps." The fact that one of them had been a colleague of his must've hit close enough to home to warrant unlocking the storm shelter: a small basement room stocked with hunter-esque reads. The guy had only been in their once - twice, including when he caught his former colleague breaking the rules with B&E (and reading).

They may not find anything ther, but since Sam doesn't need sleep nowadays he agreed to pull the all-nighter and check for certain before they skip town.

Gaze flitting from Dean and his pizza, to the leatherback book in his hands and up to the Crazy Wall, Cas keeps his thoughts to himself. He looks concerned, wary almost.

"You okay?"

Cas turns the book over, gently. "Where did you get this?" he says to the back cover.

"St. Bruno's. Got quite the collection of lore stashed away in the basement, but Roberto confiscated that one from one of the vamps, before.." Dean trails off, leaving out the details of his bloody foul ball at the local park. "Demonic possession's a big feature, no surprises there. Some monster stuff and gods stuff scattered through - most of it we know already from Bobby's. Also a bunch of balony text. But there was a couple dozen copies of that," he points at Cas' hands with his pizza tip, "so we figured we should see what else was down there that might be useful."

He joins Cas by the map printouts, newspaper clippings, highlighted notes and online article stubs. He watches as Cas traces delicate fingers over the black leather and gold-embossed spine. There's something about the way he handles it - with such care, and hesitation. It's a little odd, but then again he did kinda the same thing with Chuck's books, too. Only this time he hasn't even opened it.

"It's a graphic novel," Dean explains, "Words and images in a badass, super freaky, pretty damn cool comic strip setup." He'd been more impressed by it than Sam. Apparently his brother's passion for all things Geek was another thing that'd been left behind. It's one thing Dean never thought he'd miss.

Cas is still regarding the ripples in the leather when Dean's pocket vibrates. "You find somethin'?" The last thing he expects to hear are the words Demon and Blood, but measured against the bar of strangeness and crappy circumstance that is their lives, Dean's not as freaked out as he probably should be.

Soulless Sam, Heaven at war with itself, Purgatory existing, Angelic pizza-men.. Anything's possible these days.

"What about Demon Blood?" Cas must feel Dean's eyes on him because he looks up to pay attention. Dean nods along, shakes his head, wishes he had that spare Johnny to wash down the news. "Yeah, okay. Grab what you can. Forget finding a new case, we'll head to Bobby's in the morning." Hanging up, Dean can feel Cas' eyes on him. "Apparently, St. Bruno's has a book on demons we haven't seen before. Says somethin' about Demon blood relating to Purgatory, but he can't read much of it. Says it's in 'some kind of code'," and Dean shakes his head away from the shadowy thought of just how much of 'Sam' is really left.

Code-breaking? He used to do that shit for fun, at breakfast, before Dean had even poured his first cup of coffee. Now he.. can't? Or he's just not interested? Dean's not sure which is worse.

Cas' face steals back to Angelness, all signs of wariness painted over with a blank canvas. He glances at the clock, oddly, and places the book gently down on the nightstand. "I have to go."

And it's not like Dean expected him to stay, but it would've been nice. Least he brought pizza. "Yeah, okay. We'll keep in touch, let you know what we find."

Cas nods, and Dean can tell he's about to I Dream of Jeannie it outta there, so he quickly adds, "―You too, you hear me? Don't be a stranger." They lock eyes for a moment, and it feels like old times. "Thanks for the pizza."

With a tilted trace of a smile, Cas nods again, softer. "Be careful, Dean."

The fridge kicks on as invisible wings take flight. An owl hoots somewhere outside, waiting for an answer. It's suddenly quiet and the room feels empty in a way it hadn't before. Lonely.

He flicks on the old box set, turns some late night movie low, and snags the pizza box along with the little black book to settle down in the neatly made bed, tossing his duffel aside.

HP Lovecraft may have some relevance to what they're dealing with, but for now he just reads for the hell of it. To get lost in it; someplace else, somehow familiar. It's a clue, a step in the right direction, hopefully. And though it's not exactly a comfort, there's something grounding in knowing the answers are out there, somewhere. They just gotta keep looking.

There's fiction and there's reality, and sometimes the impossible is what's real. Sometimes it's a nightmare instead of a dream. That's the Hunter life. Figuring out what's dark fantasy and what's really lurking in the shadows.

No Lisa, no Ben. No Sam, even if he walked through that door right now. Bobby three states away. Cas off at war.

He's got pizza and Lovecraft's Cosmicism and Mitchum on the grainy tube. It's not everything, but it's enough. With any luck he'll dream of something better, something more. Probably the best he can hope for, really: if he can't have a better life, dreams might be the closest he ever gets.

But as long as he gets his four hours, he'll manage, dreams (or nightmares) or no.

The telltale pitter-patter of rain starts in, grows steadily heavier as the pages turn, the black-and-white noir futzing and pizza filling him, making him sleepy. He drifts off to the flicker of blue neon through the tear in the curtain by his bed, distantly wishing he'd removed his boots or at least his belt; it's digging into him, but he knows on the plus side he'll be ready to jump up and fight if something goes bump in the night.

Just another night in the Hunter's life.

#destiel ficlet #s6 #profoundnet #botstat #angel cas #pizza #soulless sam #night #lonely dean #hunter dean #myficlets #deancas #cv #teen #dean pov #motels #hp lovecraft #purgatory portal

25 notes · View notes

burnitdownsasha · 5 years

Text

BAD INTETIONS (SHIELD)

Here is the next paaaart. A lot has been going on lately so its been hard to sit down and get this done. I hope you like it <3

warning: adult situations, minor smut (yes it will continue into the next chapter)

Tag-list : @ambrolleignsgirl90 @bethany99stuff-blog @never-sawft-princess @queenofthearchitect @sassyspacedust

pls let me know if I forgot to add you!!

Chapter 3

I sat in the hair and makeup chair filling in my friend on what happened last week when I arrived at the arena. “He said that?”

Alexa’s mouth open and waiting for my response. I nodded and kept scrolling through the tweet mentions on my phone. “What did you say?”

“I literally just smiled and laughed. Then I awkwardly walked away from him. I didn't know what to say to that,” I shrugged. Alexa smirked pulling out her phone from her pocket. I eyed her movements, something seemed suspicious. I shook the feeling and looked back to my phone.

‘@WWERollins: Congrats to @YTN, welcome to the main roster. Jobe well done’

I studied the tweet for what seemed like forever. I could not stop reading it, and I wanted more and more. Why is he trying to get my attention. That’s what he was doing, right? “Why are you blushing?” Alexa asked startling me. “Nothing,” I lied.

After being done up in the chair I made my way to catering hoping to get something in my stomach a good amount of time before my match.

Once I got there almost all of the tables had someone sitting at it. I guess everyone was hungry right now. I grabbed a plate of food and looked around to see who I wanted to sit with. My eyes caught a certain short hair blond as she waved me over. “Hey! There you are I’ve been looking all over the place,” she pulled out the seat next to her for me.

“Here I am in the flesh.” I smiled and stuffed my mouth with rice. We spoke about pretty much everything. How we were and what we've been up to. I had seen Renee much but only when she visited the performance center. “Ladies.”

We both pulled away from our conversation when two more joined us at the table. “Hey babe,” Renee pinching Dean’s cheek. Roman grinning and giving a small wave. “Ambrose. Reigns.” I greeted them.

Roman sat besides me listening to Dean tell Renee a crazy story that I could not keep up with. He poked my arm looking down at me. “So you and Rollins,” he smirked. I literally only told one person. Freakin Bliss.

“What about us?” I played it cool. If I stayed calm maybe he would brush it off and change the subject. “Getting cozy with each other?” I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. “I don't seem to know what you're talking about big dog.” It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Sure kid,” he smirked.

I finished up my plate then spent thirty minutes or so walking around backstage to try and get my food to go down before my match.

I made my way to the gorilla after hearing orders for me to get ready for my match. I would be fighting Sasha Banks tonight. They were pushing our rivalry for the next paper view which would be royal rumble. She was currently the Raw Women’s Champion, so she had something I wanted. I know I can get it.

My entrance music goes off and I go through the curtain walking down the ramp, my head slightly tilted to the side. I push myself up onto the apron and climb through the ropes. I stood center of the ring before leaning against the ropes near the announce table staring at the stage.

Soon Sasha’s music is playing and the titantron has her name on it. I stretched out my arms while she came down the ramp doing her thing up to the ring. When she slid in I became more aware of myself. It didn’t take long for the match to start. After throwing punches and locking so many times another song blared through the arena.

I watched becky lynch walk down the ramp with the red brand title on her shoulder. Stomping her way to the ring. I paid for those couple of seconds of losing focus. Sasha hit me over the back the head with her elbow. My face going face first into the canvas. “Thats gonna be mine,” I heard Sasha yell over the noise. She dragged me up hitting a backstabber, flipping me into the bank statement.

Pain coursed through my neck all the way down my back. “Tap!” Sasha shouted in my ear. I shouted in pain holding on as long as I could. Becky stood outside of the ring staring at me with a smirk on her face. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and smack the canvas repeatedly until Sasha let go. I held the back of my neck balled up on the ground. I scooted myself to the corner. Watching Becky slide into the ring. Sasha immediately getting in her face. Becky laughed faking turning away then swinging her title straight into Sasha’s head.

The crowd cheered loving this side of her. She walked over to me bending down. “Not in million years kid.”

I grunted in pain watching her walk away.

After walking backstage I made it quick to shower. Changing into my leggings and hoodie feeling extra lazy after tonight. I saw Seth from far and suddenly felt flustered but confident enough to go up and say hi. I walked up behind him while he was talking to Xavier and Kofi. I wrapped my arms around him squeezing all I had. “Woah woah,” Seth chuckled. His hand rested on my arm pulling me to the front of him. “Hi,” I whispered.

“Hey stranger. How’s your back? Sasha almost bent you in half.” He places his palm against me rubbing circles on my back. My cheeks heat up and I almost can't trust my voice to speak. “I'm okay thank you.”

“Do you have a ride to the next city?” I shake my head cursing at myself forgetting to make carpool plans. “No worries you can ride with me, just let me get changed and we’ll head out,” he winked. I didnt even respond I just watched him walk into the locker room.

I sat on the ground near the door waiting for him. My back did ache now that I had thought about it. “Ready?” I heard him as soon as the door opened. I got up and pulled my bags with me. “Here I got it.” He slung my bag over his shoulder while pushing his own. “Thank you sir.”

“Sir huh?” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Don’t get too cocky,” I lightly shoved his arm.

We made it to the car on the other side of the parking lot. Loading bags into the back. I sat in the passenger seat watching him fix the seat on his side. I smiled at him struggling to adjust it. “Dammit!” I laughed out loud. He smiled at me cracking up in my seat.

Finally he was able to fix it and we were on our way. “You look real pretty when you smile,” he complimented. “You look real pretty when you wrestle,” I looked at him. He brought his hand up to his chest clutching it. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said,” he joked pretending to tear up.

I erupted I giggles watching Seth be a dork. I missed this. I missed him. Time had passed but I’m glad we’re back on the same show again.

“How'd you like your first day, besides the match that is.” I told him it went pretty well. Filling him in on my schedule for the rest of the week. Ours looking similar for most days. “Did you say something to Roman?” I asked looking ahead at the road.

“About?” He looked between me and the freeway. “I don't know. Us.” He furrowed his eyebrows and then realization hit him. “Ohhhh you mean us.” I nodded playing with my nails. “I told him that I might be feeling something with this really cute girl we used to hang out with in NXT.”

A girl from NXT? I wonder who that could be. He answered my thoughts. “I’m talking about you Y/N,” he chuckled. “Me?” Butterflies moving around in my stomach. His hand moving from the steering wheel to my thigh. “If that’s okay with you,” Seth moved his hand up and down my leg.

My breathing quickened. “Is it okay baby?”

I nodded, whimpering when his hand slid up my thigh. I didn’t know what to feel. I mean it felt good and right. It was just all happening so fast. “Seth.” I moaned out his name the higher his fingers climbed. Minutes of teasing came until we reached the hotel. Seth practically jumped out of the car as soon as he parked and grabbed our bags from the back.

We checked in as fast as someone can. Taking the elevator up to the rooms. “Can I come with you?” I asked him with a small voice. He wrapped his arm around my waist kissing my forehead. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Down the hallway and into Seth’s room we went. It felt like forever to get here after the moment we had in the car.

He shut the door slowly. I pulled my hoodie off walking towards him. “We aren’t moving too fast are we? Wouldn't want to scare you away.” I pulled towards his bed. “I think this is a good pace,” I gently pushed him to sit on the bed. Seth pulled me towards him having me straddle him while he sat. I tucked my hand under his chin bringing his lips towards mine.

When our lips touched it felt like nothing ever before. As cliche as it sounds. He kissed me with everything he had. It felt so passionate and loving. Seth slid his hands underneath the back of my shirt. I pushed my tongue past his lips. He unclasped my bra, skimming my back with his fingers. A shiver passing through down my spine.

I pulled back to bring my arms into my shirt to pull the bra straps off to take off my bra. My thin t shirt still on. Seth pulling my hair gently to give him access to my neck. His lips dancing on my skin and occasionally a lick. I moaned with closed eyes. I could feel myself becoming wet with just us fooling around. My hips began to involuntarily rock against his own. Seth hissed when I pressed myself against him.

He flipped us so now i’m on the bed. He pulls my legs from under me helping me lay down on the mattress. I spread my arms around the bed. Looking straight at him licking my lips. Seth’s eyes darken and he pulls the waistband of my leggings down until the material is leaving my ankles. Now I laid there only in a white shirt and lacy underwear. I swear I didn’t know this would happen.

to be continued ....

#seth rollins #seth rollins imagines #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins x oc #seth rollins imagine #the shield #the shield imagines #Seth rolliins smut

69 notes · View notes

i-am-here-with-fanfic · 5 years

Text

TOSHI X READER: The Perfect Model

A/N: Apparently I forgot how to title so here you go.

I AM ALSO SO SORRY TO POST SO LATE. @fandomhell97 had sent ne this request before ....March April? I know it was the 15th because that was my spring break but i didnt have time to write it and edit it in less than a week cuz training.

SO I GIVE YOU THIS TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU.

Edit: May 10, 2019 9:40PM: @starrylegend helped me a lot editing like 3.8/4 of the story!! Yay, belated credit 😰😅😅😅 *nervous laugh*

It was a strange thing, feeling so attached to your drawings. You always had a sense of pride and happiness from your years of practice, sketching whatever caught your eye around the world; however, you were most grateful for the fact that the perfect model came to you.

Toshinori Yagi.

With you two being partners sharing a household, there were many opportunities to sketch his gorgeous face, fluffy hair, and insecure body. After his final battle with All For One, though, Toshinori had fallen into a state of despair, and you remained by his side until he felt better; even if it meant you had to delay your sketching to tend to your boyfriend.

He was resting in bed, despite his complaints to do anything else but rest. Fortunately, you managed to convince him otherwise.

Laying beside Toshi, you held his head in your lap, caressing his face, trying to lull him to sleep. You were captivated by his looks; the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep; stress; and who knows what else. ... While still gently stroking along his jawline, you admired the sharp angles of his chin and the shadows that danced across beautiful cyan eyes, your boyfriend finally succumbing to the need to sleep.. You leaned forward to press your lips against his recently moisturized ones, but he woke up, surprised and adorably shy.

“W-why did you do that?” He asked, his cheeks turning a pale rose as he averted his eyes.

You smiled, holding him closer. “You tempted me with that gorgeous face,” you say before assaulting him with a shower of kisses, causing him to laugh softly and grin as he took every kiss to the depths of his soul, feeling a boost from your kindness.

He shifted around until he nuzzled into your abdomen, wrapping his good arm around you.

That image was burned into your mind and you thanked a force out there that you were capable of remembering it. When Toshinori was stubborn enough to go back to U.A., you only shook your head with a smile, reminding him to be careful and sending him off with a kiss.

With the image of your lover laughing etched into your mind, you decided to draw him while you still saw it clearly.

You first grabbed your blanket from your bedroom, with the scent of your boyfriend in it, it was the second thing that would remind you of the safety and warmth you felt while in his arms. Sketchbook and pencil in hand, you opened it up to an empty page, placing your earphones on as soft music played, calming yourself.

After a few hours, you really concentrating on capturing the details in your boyfriend’s fluffy, yellow hair, you didn’t notice the door opening and closing, signaling that your boyfriend was home. When Toshinori heard the scratch of pencil on paper, his first thought was of you sketching, something he had not seen you do in a while.

Leaning against the wall, he gazed at your form on the couch, your blanket loosely draped over your shoulders.. He smiled as he slowly approached you from behind the couch, resting his arms on it and pulling out an earphone, causing you to yelp from surprise and close your sketchbook out of habit. This earned a string of rapid apologies from your boyfriend as you turned, sitting with your knees on the couch to see him as a stuttering mess before reassuring him that it okay, pressing a few kisses against his lips in the process.

“Drawing a flower as usual?” he asked, smiling softly, cautiously placing his hand on your waist.

He so wanted to be the cheesy, romantic guy, but he just didn't know how your reaction would be. Usually when he does something romantic, in his experience, it would be awkward as hell.

“Yeah, it's a fluffy dandelion,” you answered with a smile that your boyfriend mirrored.

“You and your fluffy dandelions.” He kissed the tip of your nose, trying to be cute without feeling likes he's being weird.

“You hungry, babe?” You had asked, smiling warmly at his gentle expression.

“Well...a little,” he admits, lightly scratching his cheek with a shy smile. You got up from the couch to walk to the kitchen to prepare a meal for the two of you to share.

Toshinori was about to follow when he thought “What’s in the sketchbook?”

He flipped to the first page and noticed a building with flowers surrounding it, the flower shop.

He knew it was wrong, he just knew it was wrong. He was going to be frowned upon ag looking without permission, but he just couldn't help it. Curiousity got the best of him.

He opened the book carefully and He gently flipped through until he stopped at a page that was his face in profile. Then the next was All Might posing. For each page that he turned, his face turned into a different shade of pink from the embarrassment, why would you be so interested in drawing him. You were so precise in his facial features that in some doodles you drew him with wet hair covering his eyes and frowning, the next doodle was him with an exaggerated puffy hair that was still covering his eyes, still frowning. So you were amused with his hair...and you made him look like a cartoon character with the bad luck of a cat with water. If you’ve drawn him like this, you captured him with fascination. That was a lot for him, his cheeks getting warmer, but also with a cup of doubt. Did you love him as a model? Nothing else?

You did have talent, that’s for sure, but he did start to feel bad on top of the guilt and shame of going through your stuff.

He turned the next page, to see if you have drawn anymore, and to his surprise you did, the new drawing. You had drawn him sleeping and it was so realistic. He couldn’t help but feel the pride of your talent of drawing, so many feelings, it is overwhelming!

“Toshi?...” You call out, walking into the living room from the kitchen. You didn’t think he would fall asleep on the couch so went to check on him.

You went silent when you spotted your sketchbook in your boyfriend’s hands. What caught off guard was the fact that Toshinori was almost scared and shameful.

“I’m...sorry.” Toshinori whispers, his hand trembling a bit.

“It’s just...I know I shouldn’t have this but...but curiosity got the best of me I uhm...I like them very much…” He smiles softly at you, referring to the drawings.

You were quiet, progressing this scene. There's more he wants to say, and you want to speak so badly, but for some reason a force was forcing your lips shush for the moment.

Then he spoke once again, looking down at the drawings, “I'm just curious to know why you are drawing me when there's so much...you can draw other than me...like this flower shop, even this parakeet for that matter...you didn't have to fill up your precious sketchbook with...my uh puffy hair.” He states with uncertainty and self-insecurity.

Now without thinking you walked towards him, taking the book gently from his hands to place on the table as you place your gentle hands on his cheeks, cupping them, “Do not ever say that, because that is not true. I do draw everything I see that's beautiful and that also includes you dummy. I fill up my book with beautiful objects and people. The only person I see very beautiful and precious is you, Yagi. You make me happy and I just wanted to express it on paper. If I have to create a painting of your beautiful, adorable face on a big canvas I will.

Toshinori was left speechless and his words were all mixed up, not knowing how to even think of a response.

Would it be pitiness you express, or would it be a real, genuine statement you expressed?

You got closer to Toshinori, pressing your body against his, “You are very handsome, Toshinori Yagi. You lost all that self-confidence because you think of yourself as not, and now...now it’s a recorded soundtrack that is stuck on repeat…”

Toshinori couldn’t speak, the words he wanted to get out just couldn’t be heard. When you told him about his confidence, he couldn’t help but actually agree with you.

His silence was just adding onto the nonexistent tension, and you spoke again, “If I have to draw you in a bigger canvas to make my point loud and clear that you are my handsome man, then so be it I will do it. I will prove that my boyfriend, so strong and so sharp-and so fashionable might I add-is the most handsome guy I’ve ever dated in my life. You ruined the image of a man, because you left me obsessed with you.”

Toshinori felt your hands wrapped around his neck as you kissed him. He can’t help but believe you. You wouldn’t lie to him, you’re not the type of person.. However, they were right: he did believe himself to be not handsome, not even worthy of you. With the drawings she provided though, every sketch of his face, his hair, his body, she did not want to alternate anything, she saw who he was and drew what she saw. He even noticed the hearts drawn on the side, his favorite part of the whole drawings, the proof that she will always love him.

She started kissing his lips, his cheeks, tiptoeing to reach his forehead and he responded by tipping his head down, only to feel the warm lips pressed against his forehead.

“Thank you...thank you for such kindness.” He raised his head, smiling so warmly. You blushed softly as you hugged him, “I'm sorry for drawing you without consent, I promise to ask for you permission.”

Toshinori pulled away just the slightest, “There's no need to ask for permission. As the kids would say “You do you, boo”.”

You processed those words and even stifled a laugh, “The kids said that?”

Toshinori rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, “W-well, I do want to get closer to them, so I guess becoming a multilingual is my only option.” He chuckled softly.

You laughed, “ I swear, if you start saying ‘Yeet’ when you throw something, I'm going to start using the duct tape.” You teased and he laughed with you.

There was another drawing you would make after you two ate, Toshinori laughing.

#toshinori yagi #all might #bnha #bnha toshinori #mha toshinori #mha #mha fandom #bnha fanfiction #bnha manga #all might x reader #fanfiction #my hero academia #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #im desperate right now #this is what i get for shitposting #fuck my life with a cactus but put a condom on it please #i said please #what else do you have a kink for besides begging??

50 notes · View notes

madpanda75 · 5 years

Text

“Game Day” Part of Hostage Series

It’s been sooo long since I’ve written about my Barba family. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile (it’s what I do during staff meetings, daydream about fic ideas).

It’s Mila’s first tee ball game! Also Rafael and the reader defend their marriage. Get ready for some domestic fluffiness, Queen Bees, misogynist pigs, and feisty comebacks 😍❤️

Disclaimer: I haven’t been to a tee ball game since I was a kid so forgive me for my inaccuracies in the art of tee-ball.

Saturdays were typically filled with pancakes, cartoons, and if you and Rafael were lucky, lazy morning sex, but today was different. It was opening day for Mila’s tee ball team and the Barba family was in full swing, preparing snacks and wrangling three kids to make it to the game on time.

While you were in the kitchen getting everything ready for the day, Rafael sat in the middle of the living room, keeping an eye on Mila and the twins. A smile slowly spread across his face as he watched Rory rock back and forth on her hands and knees. “Y/N! Come here! I think this is it. I think she’s gonna do it! I think she’s about to crawl!”

Rafael was determined to witness his daughter’s milestone. A few weeks earlier Ben began to crawl but unfortunately Rafael was in court and missed the event. Although you had taken a video, it wasn’t the same as being there to see his son scoot across the floor. He now understood why you were so upset when you had missed Mila taking her first steps.

“You can do it! Come on muñequita,” Rafael cooed.

Mila stopped practicing her swings and tapped on Rafael’s shoulder. “Papi, that’s wrong. I your moony-quita. Not her!” She furrowed her brows, placing one hand on her hip while the other pointed to her baby sister.

Rafael turned towards his oldest daughter, running a hand through her curls. “Of course you’re my muñequita. But so is your sister. You’re both my muñequitas, ok?”

“I guess that ok,” Mila mumbled, glancing between her sibling and her father with a look of skepticism.

“You’re still my number one girl.” He reassured her, kissing her cheek before turning back to Rory, outstretching his arms towards his daughter. “That’s it! Come to Papi!”

Rory grinned, drool dribbling down her cheek as she babbled at her father. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. Just when it looked like she was about to crawl, Ben beat her to the punch. The baby boy had been happily sucking on his toes when he decided to roll over and crawl towards Rafael, giggling as he scooted across the floor.

Watching her brother crawl into Rafael’s arms, Rory plopped down on her belly and began to cry. Her tiny face turning red as crocodile tears streamed down her cheeks. At the sound of his sister’s cries, Ben’s bottom lip quivered. It wasn’t long before he joined in, both babies crying and screaming, creating a cacophony that would wake the dead.

Mila covered both her ears. “Uh oh, they broken.”

Upon hearing your children wail, you ran into the room to find your husband with both babies in his arms, trying to calm them. “What happened?” You shouted to Rafael above the screams.

“I don’t know! One minute Rory was about to crawl, Ben got to me first and now this!” Rafael looked bewildered, motioning to the chaos surrounding him.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly and took Rory from Rafael, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Now that the twins were getting older, their personalities were shining through. Rory may have favored you looks-wise but she was all Barba. You knew the reason for her outburst was because her brother had gotten to Rafael first, leaving her behind. While your sensitive baby boy was crying simply because his sister was.

“Aww pobrecita,” you cooed, bouncing your baby girl up and down. “It’s ok, mi amor. No more tears.” You glanced down at Mila and smiled, watching her put on her tee ball helmet. For the past few weeks, the tiny toddler insisted on wearing it around the house, only taking the helmet off during bath time. “You ready for your big game, baby?”

“Yep, we gonna crush them!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down.

You bit back a laugh. Who knew that four year olds had such a ruthless competitive streak. “Just remember to have fun. It doesn’t matter if you win or lose.”

“Yeah! Have fun crushing them.” Mila bared her teeth and growled before going back to practicing her swings.

Once the twins quieted down, you and Rafael placed both babies in their activity centers, hoping that would keep them entertained. “Mila, keep an eye on your brother and sister while Papi and I finish getting ready.”

You scampered off to the kitchen to finish preparing snacks for the game while Rafael retrieved the cooler from the hallway closet. He stopped in his tracks when he spied you standing on your tiptoes with your back to him, trying to grab a box of ziploc baggies from the top cupboard.

You were in full momma-mode, wearing a t-shirt that had Mila’s team name emblazoned on the back, a pair of denim shorts, and canvas sneakers. The casual outfit proved alluring to Rafael. It was simple yet sexy. Of course in Rafael’s eyes, you could be dressed in a potato sack and be sexy. A smirk tugged at his lips as he looked you over, drinking in your long legs, admiring your ass and the way your shirt rode up, revealing a strip of bare skin on the small of your back.

Rafael snuck up behind you and playfully tugged on your braid. He reached up and grabbed the baggies, handing them to you before winding his arms around your waist, dropping a kiss right below your ear, inhaling the sweet scent of your vanilla body spray.

You softly moaned in response, leaning back into his touch as his fingers skimmed the waistband of your shorts. “Excuse me, sir. My husband will be home any minute.”

“Your husband, hmm? You didn’t mention a husband last night while you were riding me,” Rafael purred, playing along with your little game.

“Must have slipped my mind.” You giggled and tilted your head, granting him further access as he continued to kiss down your neck.

“Does your husband make you come as hard I can,” he whispered, gently biting down your earlobe.

You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t know. He’s pretty skilled.”

“Skilled? Well I guess I’ll just have to fuck you again. Make you forget all about that husband of yours.” He pushed you up against the counter causing you to gasp in surprise.

“Guess you will,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him deeply, tasting the remnants of coffee and mint on his tongue. “But later. Right now I need to place organic non-GMO fruit in baggies for a team of four year olds.” You reluctantly pulled away from Rafael and began to place dragon fruit and kumquats into the cooler, also sneaking in some extra baggies of grapes and orange slices. If your suspicions were correct, you knew the majority of the team, including your four year old, would be less than enthusiastic about the pretentious unusual fruit.

Rafael picked up a thick packet of paper that was tossed aside on the counter and snorted a laugh. “Dear Lord, what is this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh a list of pre-approved snacks for toddlers, courtesy of Missy Schultz.” Missy Schultz was the Queen Bee in your neighborhood. She was leader of the Booster Club for Mila’s team, President of the PTA and a colossal pain in the ass. When you were pregnant with the twins, she stopped to lecture you for an hour about the benefits of eating your placenta. It took all your strength not to punch her in the face whenever you encountered her at any school or team function.

“The bar exam wasn’t as complicated as this,” Rafael mumbled, flipping to the back of the packet to review the appendix section.

You finished packing the cooler and looked over at your husband. He was wearing khakis shorts, a blue polo, and boat shoes. Even after six years together, it was still strange to see him in such a casual look. Rafael dressed to impress. His sharp tailored suits combined with his silver tongue was part of what defined him in the courtroom. His suspenders alone were enough to turn you into a puddle. But at home Rafael was more than an ADA, he was a husband and father. At home, he could relax.

Sensing your eyes on him, Rafael glanced over at you. “What?” He asked, popping a grape into his mouth.

“Nothing, it’s just...well look at us. Scrambling to get out the door before 9 am on a Saturday,” you said. “Remember when we used to have naked weekends?”

Way back before kids came into the picture, you and Rafael would spend your rare weekends off completely naked. Your Saturdays and Sundays would be spent having sex in every room of your apartment, cuddling and ordering takeout whenever you needed nourishment for the next round of lovemaking. You loved your lazy weekends with Rafael. It was a chance to escape from work and responsibilities, where nothing else mattered, just the two of you, living in your own little world.

Rafael groaned and playfully pinched your ass. “How could I forgot naked weekends. In fact, I vote we bring back naked weekends.”

“Papi, I don’t think we’ll be able to have a naked weekend for at least 18 more years.”

“Mami has been asking to have a sleepover with the kids,” he purred, snaking an arm around you. “I can’t promise a naked weekend, but how about a naked Saturday?”

“You got yourself a deal, Counselor.” You kissed him hard, your tongue snaking into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair. Pulling back, you straightened the collar of his shirt, looking him over one more time. “When did we become such parents?”

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, looking towards the living room. “Call me crazy but I think it’s when we decided to get married and have kids.”

Following his gaze, you came across a sight that made your heart melt. There was Mila standing in between the twins demonstrating to them the perfect pitch. Rory and Ben intently watched their big sister, babbling and sucking on their teething toys while she pretended to hit a home run.

You softly smiled at your children before glancing at the wall clock. “Oh we gotta go. Don’t wanna be late and face the wrath of Missy Schultz.” You walked back to the living room and picked up the twins. Rafael followed with the cooler in his hand, ushering Mila out the door for her first game.

*****

After dropping off Mila and a quick diaper change for Ben, Rafael walked over to the bleachers. He sat down next to you and Rory, warily watching the group of tiny toddlers on the field. “Oh God, I’m getting little league flashbacks. Of all the sports, Mila could pick from, why did she pick this.” He shook his head. “We shouldn’t be subjecting her to this type of pressure at such a young age. I mean one wrong game and you’re called “Bad Ball Barba” for the rest of the season.”

You snorted a laugh, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Papi, our little perfectionist has been practicing for weeks, I think she’ll be fine and besides maybe Mila will take after me and actually know how to hit the ball.” You winked, bopping Rafael on the nose with your index finger.

Rafael placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “That’s cold, baby.”

Just then a pungent smell hit your nose. You and Rafael exchanged a glance before looking down at Rory who was in desperate need of a diaper change.

“First Ben, now you,” he mumbled, his eyes darting between both babies. “Do you think they plan this?”

The twins giggled and for a split second you could have sworn you saw matching mischievous expressions on their faces. “Oh definitely. We’ll be right back. I told Sonny I’d meet him at the front anyways.” You got up with Rory and walked to the bathroom.

Rafael sat with Ben on his lap. The baby grinned and stared up at his father with big green eyes, reaching up with his chubby hands to grab the gold cross hanging around Rafael’s neck. A smile tugged at his lips as he snuggled closer to his son. “Hey, mijo. Papi loves you so much,” he softly said, kissing him on the forehead.

“Hi guys,” Olivia waved and walked up to Rafael, grabbing a seat on the bleachers.

“Liv, what are you doing here?” He asked, surprised to see the lieutenant at his daughter’s game.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Nice to see you too, Barba. Your wife invited me.”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be here. Where’s Noah?”

“Noah is at day camp right now and the house is way too quiet without him so I thought I’d stop by and get some baby time in.” She smiled at Ben and reached out to take him from Rafael. “Hi Ben. You’re getting to be such a big boy!” She cooed, bouncing the baby in her lap.

Rafael smiled and watched his son giggle with Olivia when he heard someone call his name. Turning towards the voice, he inwardly cringed when he saw his old partner, Blaine Driscoll. He and Blaine worked together at a private law firm before Rafael joined the District Attorney’s office. Blaine was a materialistic lecherous creep. He was greedy and shallow, caring only about making money and chasing tail rather than getting justice. It was people like Blaine Driscoll that made Rafael leave the private sector.

“Rafael Barba, you ol’ son of a bitch!” Blaine practically yelled causing a few parents to stare disapprovingly at the person who was cursing feet away from their children.

Rafael let out a long breath and plastered a smile on his face. “Blaine, what a surprise to see you here.”

“Yeah, my niece or nephew or god-whatever is playing so I thought what the hell and get this whole family function thing over with,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “What about you? Don’t tell me you have a kid.” He playfully punched Rafael in the shoulder a little too hard.

“Actually I have three. My oldest daughter is playing. It’s her first game,” Rafael nodded towards the field, rubbing his shoulder a bit.

“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I never would have pegged you for being a family man.”

“Life is full of surprises,” Rafael replied who took a fussy Ben back from Olivia.

“That it is.” Blaine smiled and observed Rafael with the baby before looking Olivia over. “So how’d you nail down this son of a gun?” He asked the lieutenant.

Rafael and Olivia turned towards each other and laughed, shaking their heads. “No we’re not together. My wife is over there.” Rafael pointed to where you were standing next to Sonny talking to a tall blonde woman. From a distance he could see how angry you were and wondered if everything was ok.

Blaine followed Rafael’s gaze and whistled when he saw you. “Damn Barba, you’re batting WAY out of your league. I see you got yourself a little trophy wife. How the hell did you nab that hot piece of ass?”

Rafael’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon!” Olivia’s jaw dropped, she could see smoke practically fuming from her friend’s ears.

Blaine ignored him and continued. “She played her cards right, snatching up an older man and saddling you with three rugrats.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head, looking sympathetically at Rafael. “Tough break, but take my advice and stick through it. Alimony can be a bitch in the state of New York.” He looked around before leaning closer. “If you ever need a little honey on the side. I can hook you up with someone hotter and younger.” He winked at his old partner. “Well, I better get going. See ya’ around, Barba.”

A heat began to creep up on Rafael’s neck. He saw red hearing his old partner talk about you in such a degrading manner. As Blaine walked away, Rafael gave Ben back to Olivia before standing up and grabbing him by the shoulder. He turned him around and got right in the man’s face.

“What the hell, Barba!” Blaine tried to move away but Rafael had a vice-like grip on his shoulder.

“You listen to me and you listen good. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about my wife. That’s the mother of my children and my family. You do it again and you’ll regret it,” Rafael told the man in a dangerously low tone.

Blaine smiled and shrugged Rafael off. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise,” Rafael calmly replied, although his fists were shaking with rage. “Leave my family alone. Don’t talk to us. Don’t even look at us, you got that?”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” Blaine held his hands up in surrender and walked away.

Rafael let out a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face, sitting back down and taking his son back from Olivia. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she said with a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before, not even in the courtroom. You really told that creep off.”

Rafael nodded and held Ben close, stroking his dark curly hair. “Y/N and the kids, they’re my life. My heart. I would do anything to defend them especially from misogynist pigs.”

“I know, Barba,” Olivia softly said, squeezing her friend’s shoulder. “I know.”

*****

You changed Rory in record time. Placing her back in the baby carrier, you walked out of the bathroom, meeting your partner. “Hey, Sonny! Thanks for coming!”

“No problem. I wouldn’t miss Mila’s first game. What kinda godfather would I be, huh?” He tickled Rory’s feet causing the baby to squirm and giggle in delight.

Just then a shrill voice called your name. “Mrs. Barba?!”

You closed your eyes and groaned. “Is there a tall blonde woman in athleisure wear running towards me?” You asked your partner.

He nodded his head. “Yep, right behind you.”

You turned around, coming face to face with Missy Schultz. “Hi, Mrs. Schultz. How can I help you.”

“I was just heading back to my seat and I couldn’t help but notice that you use a baby carrier. You know researchers say you should really use a baby wrap. Not only is it environmentally-friendly but it holds the baby in a comfortable position, very similar to the way the child was in utero. It also strengthens the bond between mommy and baby, and-”

“Thank you, Mrs. Schultz,” you politely interrupted, knowing that you would be standing there for an hour listening to her praise the benefits of baby wrapping. “I’ll take that into consideration but I really need to go. I don’t want to miss Mila play.”

“Oh of course. We can talk after the game.” She smiled and looked over at Sonny, extending her hand to him. “Forgive me for being so rude. This must be the famous Mr. Barba. Mila talks about you all the time. You’re her hero.”

Sonny and you exchanged a glance and laughed. “Actually this is my partner from work and Mila’s godfather. My husband is over there with my son.” You pointed towards the bleachers where Rafael was talking to another man.

Missy’s eyes widened as she looked over Rafael. “Oh...yes. I noticed him dropping Mila off this morning. That’s...uhhh surprising.” She gave you a tight polite smile.

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion “Why would that be surprising?”

“Oh it’s nothing.” She waved you off. “Forget I said anything.”

You took a step towards her and continued. “It doesn’t seem to be nothing. Something seems to be “surprising” about my relationship with my husband.”

“It’s just hearing you and Mila talking about your husband. I was expecting someone younger, not someone who is about to qualify for his AARP card. I guess I’m different and didn’t want my kids raised by someone old enough to be their grandfather, but to each their own.”

“Excuse me!” You shouted.

“Y/N,” Sonny warned. “Let’s forget about it and go.”

“Not a chance! Take my baby!” You handed Rory to your partner before getting right in Missy’s face.

There was a twelve year gap between you and Rafael. At the beginning of your relationship, you heard concerns about your age difference from friends and family but you let it roll off your back. Age didn’t matter. You knew in your heart Rafael was the only man for you. But hearing Missy make snide remarks about your husband caused something inside you to snap.

“Let me tell you something, Missy. That man is my husband and the love of my life. He’s also an incredible and dedicated father. If I ever hear you say anything about him or my family again, I’ll shove that pre-approved snack pamphlet so far up your ass, you’ll have paper cuts on your tongue,” you threatened. She gasped in horror, clutching her chest. You walked away before turning around to make one last point. “Oh and one more thing, Rafael is dynamite in the sack. He makes me scream so loud even you would be able to hear it from your little Park Avenue palace. After a night with him, I’m lucky I can even walk. Remember that next time you want to comment on my man.”

Sonny’s jaw dropped, blushing profusely as he tried to cover Rory’s ears. You smiled at Missy and walked back to your partner, taking the baby from him. “Let’s go, Sonny.”

Sonny shrugged at Missy before following you to the bleachers. “Wow!” He whistled, his mind completely blown at your tirade. “Barba is one lucky guy to have you defend him like that.”

“I’m the lucky one, Sonny.”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Just do me a favor. Don’t ever tell me what you two do in the bedroom. I don’t need that image seared into my brain.”

“You should have seen what he did to me last night,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

Sonny groaned in response. “Stop, I’m gonna be sick.”

While making your way to the bleachers, the man you saw Rafael talking to earlier brushed past you and Sonny. He looked visibly shaken. “Hey guys. Everything ok?” You asked, sitting next to your husband.

“Everything’s good,” Rafael replied. Olivia smiled and nodded her head in agreement. He took hold of your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. “Are you guys ok?”

“Never better.” You glanced over at Sonny who was still blushing from earlier and winked. Turning your attention back to the field, you watched as Mila came up to the plate. “Oh she’s next!”

The little girl smiled brightly and waved at you and Rafael. “Look, that’s your sister.” He pointed Mila out to the twins. Rory and Ben shrieked with excitement, bouncing up and down in your’s and Rafael’s laps when they saw her. Rafael held his breath as Mila swung her bat, smacking the ball and sending it flying across the field, hitting a home run. You, Rafael, Sonny, and Olivia stood up and cheered as the toddler ran the bases.

“Way to go, muñequita!” Rafael exclaimed, capturing it all on video. He wrapped an arm around you and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. Pulling away, he couldn’t help but stare, completely mesmerized by you. Years ago, Rafael had made peace with the fact that he was going to end up old and alone, married to his job. Then one day you came and changed everything and here he was married with three beautiful children. The happiest he had ever been in his life and it was all because of you.

You blushed under his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just...I love you.” He smiled, kissing each of the twins before kissing you one more time, gently caressing your cheek.

“I love you too,” you replied, nuzzling your nose against his before resting your head on his shoulder, watching the rest of the game.

Neither of you would ever tell the other what happened with Missy and Blaine because it didn’t matter what people thought. The only thing that mattered was your love for one another and the family you created out of that love.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #barba #barba fic #barba imagine #Rafael Barba x Reader x Mila #Mila Barba #aurora barba #benjamin barba #hostage series #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine

125 notes · View notes

thestoryofme13 · 5 years

Text

Sweet Times

A/N: I have rewritten this prompt maybe four times since I’ve seen it. I finally figure out how I want to do it. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. I have actually made this meal before but I made cookies and they were more like hockey pucks so.

Prompt: It was from @today-only-happens-once Royality concept: Patton bakes the cupcakes, Roman is the one who decorates them (and is crazy good at it).

Warnings: Food, eating, Valentine’s day, alcohol mention, cooking, kissing, flirting (If there are more please let me know!)

Patton and Roman had never really spent a Valentine’s day together and even though it was a holiday made for the greeting card industry it was important to them. The couple made it a point to show their love in as many ways as possible all throughout the year but Patton was adamant that he had to do something a little extra.

While Patton had the full day off, Roman only had the night. Patton ever the patient man with other people could never keep a secret or curb the excitement that came with doing something for his boyfriend, but somehow he had managed to keep it all a secret from Roman and wake up before him.

Since Roman was still asleep, he quietly made his way down the stairs to start making something small for breakfast so that Roman wouldn’t forget the meal. As he made the smoothie and toast he flipped through a cookbook to try and decide what he wanted to make for this special night. His face lit up as he found something that sounded perfect: turkey chili. It was going to be cold today so something nice and warm for a meal would be ideal and it would no doubt help Roman’s throat after rehearsal.

Now that he had the main course picked out, he decided that he should look for sides. That was until he heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. He moved the cookbook behind the toaster and turned around to smile at Roman who was frantically searching for everything he needed for the day, “Ro, my love, you look like you’re lost in your own house.” he teased.

Roman stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend and grabbed his bag, “You know I’m trying here!” He whined.

Patton shook his head fondly, grabbing the to-go cup and setting it in the other’s hand, “I know you’re trying, love.” He said gently, “But you only have your eye makeup done on half your face.” He said with a knowing smile.

Roman grumbled, “Ugh!!! You know what screw it! I have to put on different makeup once at the theatre anyways.”

Patton chuckled and moved back to the counter grabbing the toast with Crofter’s jam and Roman’s lunch that he had packed the night before, “Here, caro mio, eat a piece of toast on your way and remember your lunch.” he reminded, attaching the lunch box to his bag.

“What would I do without you?” Roman murmured in awe kissing Patton deeply.

Patton chuckled into the deep kiss, “Probably perish.” He mused, gently, “Now get going or you’ll be late.” He swatted Roman’s ass playfully.

Roman squeaked indignantly, “Okay fine!” He walked to the door and paused a moment turning back to look at Patton, “Happy Valentine’s day, dearheat.” He said with a smirk and ran out the door.

Patton blushed deeply as he watched his boyfriend run to his car. He sighed and shook his head, Roman would pay for flustering him and leaving. He closed the front door and started looking for sides for the dinner, finally settling on asparagus with hollandaise sauce and oven roasted potatoes. Now there was only one thing left to decide, dessert. He thought for a moment and finally decided on cupcakes.

Once the entire meal was decided upon Patton busied himself with cooking and decorating everything so it was all ready for when Roman came home. Patton had come to lose himself in the cooking in and prepping and therefore losing track of time. He lost track of time so much so that the cupcakes had over baked. He cursed inwardly as he set them on the counter cool, there wasn’t much he could do about it now and no time to start a new batch. He decided that now he had to make sure everything else was perfect.

Cooking each item, setting the table, and decorating the room had taken almost all day and by the time that Patton had looked at the clock he realized Roman was expected home any minute and the cupcakes weren’t decorated nor were they anywhere near something to be proud of. But at this moment he couldn’t worry about that because he had finally finished plating all of the dishes just as Roman walked in the door.

Patton sighed deeply and took a moment to look around the room. The small little table in the kitchen was adorned with a deep red table cloth that had a white lace overlay. On top of the table cloth were the white dishes offering a stark contrast to the dark color and finally two red candles burned in the center as one red tulip sat in a vase. The room looked perfect, even upscale restaurants had nothing on his skills.

Roman took a deep breath, allowing the aroma of the kitchen to fill his nose, he looked around and smiled, “It smells fantastic, my love.” As his eyes swept over the room he could feel his heart tug at each decoration and the amount of work and thought Patton had put in. The love of his life had made it his mission to spoil him and in turn spoil himself.

Patton looked over at Roman, “I hope so…..” His face fell as he remembered the cupcakes and looked back over at where they sat. All he wanted was one full meal plus dessert and he had managed to mess up the dessert.

Roman closed the door behind him and walked over to Patton, “What’s wrong?” He asked gently, as he pulled his boyfriend into his arms.

Patton sighed and relaxed against Roman, “I messed up the cupcakes….I guess I just got so busy that I forgot what you had taught me about baking….” He whispered sadly.

Roman moved Patton over towards the cupcakes he was eyeing, “Well you know what can make cupcakes delicious no matter what?” He asked with a soft smirk.

Patton shook his head and looked up at Roman, “What?”

“Icing.” Roman exclaimed as he left Patton’s side and took the clean mixing bowl and gathered the ingredients to start making the icing.

Patton sighed softly and moved towards Roman, “Let me, Ro….You’ve had a long day.”

Roman blew a raspberry at Patton as he started to mix the ingredients, “Nonsense. You went through all the trouble of making a nice meal for us. The least I can do is help with this small task.” After a few moments the icing was finished and he divided it into a few different smaller bowls, adding food coloring.

Patton smiled as he watched Roman go through the process, always forgetting just how much his boyfriend enjoyed baking and how at ease he looked doing it. He walked closer and helped Roman fill icing bags and then moved to the cupcakes.

With an icing bag in hand Roman started doing a ribbon around the edge and then a neat heart with Patton and his own initials inside it. He sighed as he continued decorating feeling tension fall of his shoulders and losing himself in the movements.

Patton put down the icing bag and watched as his boyfriend created masterpiece after masterpiece on a small canvas. He wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist and set his head on the other’s shoulder, “I always forget how good you are at this….You make it seem so easy.” he mused softly.

“You know that this is anything but easy.” Roman chuckled as he continued, “But all the same that’s how I feel when I see or taste your cooking. You do it so effortlessly that I’m always in awe of how good it tastes and how you can always manage to find food in the house to make meals with.”

Patton giggled, “There is not always food in the house….Sometimes I have to go grocery shopping because unfortunately we don’t have gnomes to do it for us.”

Roman smiled brightly, “Love, you hate gnomes.” he teased.

Patton wrinkled his nose, “Yes and that is exactly why we don’t have gnomes.” he replied with a firm nod.

Roman finally finished decorating the last cupcake and then put a dab of icing on Patton’s nose, “There now all the cakes are iced.”

“I’m not a cake.” Patton whined with a giggle.

Roman turned towards his giggling boyfriend and smiled brightly, “Of course you are. You’re my Pattoncake.” he said fondly, putting his finger in the icing on the other’s nose and licking it off.

Patton blushed and giggled, “Roman!” He whined, “You’re such a sap.”

Roman chuckled with his boyfriend, “I am and you love me for it.” He grabbed one of the cupcakes and shoved it in Patton’s mouth playfully.

Patton squeaked but managed to take in as much of the cupcake as possible, grabbing a different cupcake and doing the same to Roman but missing and putting it on his nose instead due to the icing on his nose.

“You did that on purpose.” Roman whined moving the cupcake into his mouth and humming softly, “Told you...Icing fixes everything.” He mused.

Patton rolled his eyes and moved Roman to the table, “Okay well let’s eat before you ruin our appetite.” he teased.

Roma smiled at Patton, “Ruin an appetite. I would never.” he said sounding offended but sitting down nonetheless and starting on his chili with a soft moan, “Your cooking never ceases to amaze me.” He said looking over at Patton.

Patton smiled softly and took Roman’s hand in his own, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Roman.” He poured two glasses of wine handing one to his boyfriend, “And to many more.” He said fondly, clinking his glass with Roman’s.

Roman beamed, “To many more, Patton.” He said softly, drinking a little from his glass as they both started to eat.

General Taglist: @fandomsandanythingelse @sugarblob0 @theonlyjelly-iwillput-inmybelly

@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @ilovemygaydad @justanotherpurplebutterfly @watergirl13 @panic-at-theeverywhere @allycat31415 @bubblycricket @nyxwordsmith @evilmuffin

Royality Taglist: @fandersfic-royality

@a-blog-just-for-sanders @all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2

@angered-turtle @aph-roma @artistictaurean @asalwayss @ashbash-the-trashcash @baileystarsketches @captain-loki-xavier @cashmeredragon @catsandrandomness @cinderlunarcyborg @cinquefoilelove @confinesofpersonalknowledge @moltengoldenstardust @cripplingchips @deadinsidebutliving @deathbyvenusftw @dementeddracon @depressed-alone @do-rey-me @emovirgil @evilmuffin @faacethefacts @fandergecko @funsizedgremlin @grey-lysander @hamster-corn @hanramz-the-fander @heythereprincey @ive-given-up-on-it @jade-dragon226-fan @johnnyboylaurens @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @k9cat @katatles-the-fish @katesattic @kurna-kovite @logan-exe @magicmapleleaf @maximum-fander @mercythemermaids-blog @micha-like-you-find-in-rocks @migraine-marathon @milomeepit @minamishipsit @minshinxx @musicphanpie-b @musicsavedmefromdeath @ghostintimelostintime @notveryglittery @nymphaedoratonks @ocotopushugs @on-lock-like-attica @ono-its-ryane @pandagirl0730 @patchworkofstars @pearls-of-patton @pieces-of-annedrew @pinkeasteregg @planetsanders @poundland-twoface @proudhufflepuff @prplzorua @purplepatton @purpleshipper @radioactivebread @reba-andthesides @redundant-statements-for-400 @robanilla @romanssippycup @rose-gold-roman @rptheturk @sanders-fam-ily @sanders-trash-4ever @saphirestrike @savingshae @shygirl4991 @silversunshine2012 @siriuswhiskers @smokeyrutilequartz @spacenerrrd @starlightlogan @storytellerofuntoldlegends @strangerthings-and-phan @superintrovertfangirl @thats-so-crash @the-feels-are-coming @the-incedible-sulk @the-optimism-of-the-ostriches @the-prince-and-the-emo @theanxietyofbeinganxious @thegreyacefromspace @thepusheenqueen @thesilentbluesparrow @thestoryofme13 @theworldismysupernova @thisisshield @thomas-must-get-to-sleep @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @too-precious-to-process @toujours-fidele @mollycassmith @trashypansexual @tree4life25 @unknownsandersfan @violetmcl @virgil-has-a-houseplant @vulnerablevirgil @yourhappypappypatton @houseplxnthoodie @analogical-mess @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @beetlequail

#Thomas sanders #Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #royality #two hearts beat as one #THBAO #food tw #eating tw #alcohol tw #cooking tw #ValentinesDay #flirting tw #baking tw #food fight tw

45 notes · View notes

38sr · 5 years

Note

i love your art style so much! i completely forgot that i’d followed you, but i saw once of your klance comics on my dash and thoughts it was sooo good! 😋 anyway i’ve been going through your blog all morning and it’s just so amazing and your art style is so cute! i would literally buy comic books from you! anyway, i do traditional art a lot and haven’t really gone into digital, but i kinda really want to nowadays.. any advice for just starting out? (tablet suggestions, marketing, etc.) 😊

Hello and thank you so much for the compliment! It’s going to be a while since a lot of planning, writing and drawing needs to be done before I can print the comics, but I’m happy to hear that you would buy. ^^

Advice about starting digital drawing….there’s so much this post could become a novel! But I guess I’ll start from the main thing: software and tablets.

Software

Okay, so, there are a lot of different programs for digital drawing and it might take a while before you find the one that works for you. Most artists that I know of either use Photoshop, SAI, CSP, or Procreate. As of now and for the last 3 years, I’ve been using Clip Studio Paint (CSP for short) for both my digital illustrations and animation. CSP is kind of like…a Mac version of SAI if that make sense? There’s so much to the program but it’s not as daunting as Photoshop. Also! Right now, they’re having a Black Friday Sale, so, the program cost only $25 for the whole weekend. It’s far more affordable than Photoshop and you can do the exact same stuff without having to take out a loan or something haha. Also, Photoshop isn’t and was never meant for digital drawing since it is originally a photo manipulation program. You can still use it for digital drawing if that what suits your tastes, but SAI and CSP are specifically made for digital drawing so the interface, brushes, and all that stuff were made and designed for the digital drawing. However, SAI is only for PC users. If you’re a Mac user (like me), I would recommend CSP. But if you don’t have money, there are free programs as well! Medibang and Krita are free drawing programs and are just as good (and I would argue good dupes) for SAI and CSP. I would suggest trying out the free programs before making a purchase for CSP, SAI or Photoshop though. Going from traditional to digital is an odd feeling so it’d be such a waste if you spent money and found out that digital drawing isn’t for you, ya know?

Tablets

Alright! So, here’s the thing about tablets: buying the most expensive one isn’t always the right choice. There are plenty of tablets that are far more affordable than a Cintiq. Also, you’re only starting out so I would never advise to go out and buy a $1000+ tablet when you don’t really know if you like digital drawing yet. My first tablet was a Bamboo tablet by Wacom and it was only $100 (at that time). I would suggest buying a small tablet like the Wacom Intuos Small or a Huion since their prices normally are under $100. There are some mid range ones ($200-$300) like the Intuos Pro and XP-PEN that perform just as well as a Cintiq but I wouldn’t buy those unless you were really starting to think about working as a digital artist.

For digital artists, tablets are an investment. I currently own a Cintiq 13HD and iPad Pro but one is for personal use (iPad) and one is for work (Cintiq). Since I mainly do computer animation and digital illustration as my job, I needed to get a tablet that performed better than my small Bamboo Intuos. Also, I needed one in order to improve my workflow and efficiency. So, don’t go out and buy a Cintiq. Try out a smaller tablet. Or even better, if you have any friends who have drawing tablets, ask them if you can try them out and see if you like the feel of it.

Tips/Advice for Digital Drawing

Okay so I’m just list off certain things I’ve learned along the way that I wish I knew when I first started digital drawing haha.

1. Take the time to learn your drawing program. Learn the interface, the hot-keys, shortcuts, tools and customize it to your liking for optimal efficiency.

2. Use references! It’s okay to use references!

3. Don’t compare yourself to other artists. You’re only just starting so it’s not good to compare yourself to someone who has had more experience at digital drawing than you. You’re going at your own pace and that’s okay.

4. Your first drawings are going to be bad, and that’s okay. Sometimes you gotta make a hundred bad drawings before you get a good one.

5. Be willing to try out new techniques and different methods.

6. Flip the canvas while you draw, don’t wait until you’ve finished the drawing. Flipping the canvas can help find inconsistencies.

7. Layers are your friends! You have friends, right? You know their names, right? So how come you don’t remember your layers’ names? Label your layers so you don’t end up sketching on the wrong layer!

8. This is if you own a Cintiq (or something similar): If you’re right-handed, customize and put all your hot-keys and shortcuts on the left-handed side of your keyboard. If you’re left-handed, put it on the right side. Efficiency boosted by 1000%.

9. Have fun! Draw what makes you happy!

Lastly….marketing….well, I don’t really do that? Ah, it’s one of those things I’m not sure what to say cause even I don’t know if I’m doing it correctly haha. Or at all. But if you’re looking to establish a following centered around your art, I noticed there are 2 types of digital artists: the one that solely makes original content (OCs and their own stories) and the other one that makes fanart. Now, there are a variety of different digital artists. I’m just saying these are the most 2 common types I see. I’ve noticed…that if you make fanart…you’re more likely to gain traction faster. Since fandoms are such a huge thing now on social media, it’s easier for your art to get noticed if you draw fanart from a popular show, movie, game, etc. However, this doesn’t mean that if you don’t draw fanart you won’t build a following. In fact, there are tons of artists who solely create their own original content and hardly draw fanart but have a following that’s 10x bigger than mine. It really comes down to what you want to do. Actually, you can do whatever you want as long as you are enjoying it haha. If drawing fanart makes you happy, go for it. If drawing your OCs makes you happy, go for it. Personally, I love drawing fanart cause I enjoy creating scenarios and comics of my favorite characters outside of canon. I do have OCs and stuff, but I hardly post them cause they’re a bit more personal (and also I think no one would be interested in them haha). But yeah…I just think you should draw and make work that you enjoy cause that attracts people to your work. Sorry, that was a really long and confusing(?) answer but I hope that helps you haha.

#ask #send me asks #send me anons #txt

63 notes · View notes

comingcalum · 6 years

Text

masterpiece - C.H.

art student!calum decides to draw a masterpiece

word count: 2.2k / Third person (Calum x Amelia)

Amelia was in a world of her own as the lecturer in front of her rambled on about some building in the middle of Rome. A spare blue pen was tucked behind her ear, and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she stared at the half-completed drawing in her notebook. She pursed her lips and squinted at the page, trying to pinpoint why it didn’t look like she had imagined it to. The hair! It just wasn’t sitting right on her face. She poked her tongue out between her lips in concentration while she erased it, redrawing it until she was satisfied. She tried to make a masterpiece every time the lead touched the page, but some days it didn’t come as easily.

Meanwhile, a few rows behind her, a boy - Calum was his name - was also drawing his own masterpiece. He was erasing and redrawing the lines so frequently that the people a few spaces away from him were getting annoyed at the sound. Nevertheless, he persisted. He had to get this drawing perfect, for no other reason than the fact that he was a perfectionist. It was ironic really, the fact that he chose to be an artist with such a meticulous personality. The boy beside him - Luke - let out a low groan and turned to face Calum. He stopped what he was doing and looked at him, expecting a conversation to ensue.

“This class is so boring, I don’t know how you do it dude,” Luke whispered, scratching his stubble.

Calum looked down at the drawing in front of him and then back at Luke. “I don’t, I just draw,” He chuckled, returning his attention to the sketch. He paid special attention to the sharpness of the jawline.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her,” Luke said again and Calum looked up to meet his tired eyes. There was a small smile dancing on Luke’s lips and Calum just rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,”

“Except it is,” He insisted. “All you have to do is go up to her and be like… Hey Amelia, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’d love to fuck your brains out,”

Calum’s eyes widened and he looked around the room sheepishly to make sure no one could hear their conversation. A few eyes were darting their way and he hoped no one had heard about his little crush. The last thing he needed was for her to find out from someone else, it would be like high school all over again, and he definitely didn’t want that.

“Shut up, she’s so much more than that…,” He shook his head and began sketching her again.

“So you’re just going to draw her in your notebook until she is literally embedded into your brain?,” Luke asked.

“I gues-”

“Luke! Calum! Do you have something you would like to say?” The lecturer shouted, and both Calum and Luke sat there, mouths hanging open. Calum slammed his notebook shut before anyone could see what was inside.

Amelia jumped at the sudden interruption and turned around to look at the two boys causing the disturbance. She stares at Calum and Luke, mouths hanging open, and chuckles softly to herself as she waits for them to answer. Calum’s eyes meet hers and his breath catches in his throat, a blush rising to his cheeks. She just smiles at him, her head resting on her hand. He likes the way her hair looks today, the wild red waves tucked behind her ear with a stray hair resting on her temple. He makes sure to take in as much of her as he can, like the way her nose and cheeks are covered in freckles, and how when she smiles at him her dimples appear. In Calum’s eyes, she was the prettiest thing, and he tried to do her justice in his notebook, but he didn’t think it could come close to how beautiful she was in person.

Luke elbows Calum in the ribs and he finally finds the courage to speak. “Uh, no sir, sorry,” He clears his throat and the lecturer nods, returning to speaking moments later. Amelia turns back around and continues her drawing.

“Good one, idiot,” Calum glares at Luke and he just shrugs, attempting to focus on the lecture without much luck. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t shake the image of Amelia burnt into his mind.

Calum looked at his watch, wondering when the lecture was going to be over. 12:47 p.m. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath. Luke looks at him with his eyebrows raised, watching Calum turn from embarrassed to stressed in a matter of seconds. He begins frantically packing his belongings away, stuffing them into his bag without much care. The lecturer’s annoyance is evident, but he’s glad to see the boy leaving.

“Dude, I gotta go sorry,” He whispers to Luke, giving him a pat on the back as he climbs over the front of the table. He jogs down the stairs and heads to the door. Amelia looks up and watches him hurry toward the door, but returns her attention to the lecture before the door slams shut.

A few minutes later and the lecture ends, everyone scurrying out as fast as possible to attend their next class for the day. Amelia is the last one to leave, not in any rush as she had the next hour free. She finishes up the last touches of her sketch and smiles to herself, happy with how the drawing turned out as it wasn’t her strength. She enjoyed painting much more, and she was much better at it too. She painted from the inside out. All her emotions or struggles were imprinted on the canvases when she painted. The colours, the different shades, lines, textures, they all resembled a little part of how she was feeling. When she wanted to escape the world, she picked up a paintbrush, and that was her escape.

After packing up her belongings, Amelia headed to the door. It was now 1:29 p.m. As she was pushing her earphones in, she noticed a small brown book in the corner of her eye. It was partially hidden behind the rubbish bin near the door, but it wasn’t hidden enough to make her think it was intentionally put there. She picks it up, running her hands over the soft brown leather. The notebook showed some wear in the corners, but there was no name on it anywhere. She wonders how long it’s been sitting there and if it’s missing its owner. She doesn’t want to pry, but she needs to find the owner, so she opens the book and tries to find anything that may help her determine who the book belongs to. There’s a few scribbles on the front page, and she assumed it was the page where they tried to get their pen working. She turns the page, and there’s a few casual doodles, like they were practicing, eyes, hands, and lips were scattered across the paper, but they were so realistic. The person had gotten the shading perfect. She turned the page again, there was a drawing of the moon phases, and she blinked in disbelief, amazed by how well drawn everything had been in this book so far. On the next page, there was writing instead. It read “And you’ll move on, and fall in love with another brain, another soul. And i’ll still be here, waiting,” she felt the words tug at her heartstrings.

The door in front of her flew open and she let out a gasp, leaping in fright as she slammed the book shut and held it against her chest. It was Calum. He froze when he saw Amelia, and then he noticed the book she was holding in her arms. It belonged to him.

“I, uh-,” He stutters, pointing to the book in her arms.

“Oh, this.. This is yours?,” She asks, peeling the book from her chest as she reads the writing on the page again. He nods and scratches the back of his neck, chewing on his lip.

“Do you mind? You’re insanely good,” She smiles at him, waiting for reassurance to carry on flicking through his notebook.

“Thanks, I tend to just draw whatever feels right at the time,” He replies, and Amelia starts turning over the pages again. He awkwardly shuffles to stand beside her, looking at his past artwork with her.

Calum watches her as she admires his artwork. He watches her tuck her hair behind her ear every so often because it tickled her face. She ran her slender fingers over the page occasionally, and he watched her take her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on what was in front of her. She looked up at him every so often too, but he looked away - he didn’t want her to catch him staring. The longer he watched her, the more delirious he felt. The deep red freckles against her pale skin was such a nice contrast that he was in awe. When Calum was around her, he wondered how it was possible that he had ever felt sorrow. Her forest green eyes were always soft, willing, as if she was eager to listen to all your problems and help you fix them. And when she smiled - god, that smile - the one where she showed off her perfect teeth as she scrunched her eyes shut and let out a giggle. That smile would be the death of Calum - it left him weak at the knees. All he wanted was to grab her face and kiss those pretty lips of hers.

As he thought about her and how perfectly her hands would fit in his, he remembered something. Something he didn’t want her to know yet. And it was there - in that very book she was holding. He knew it was on the next page, but he didn’t want her to stop - but he did - but he didn’t. He held onto the smallest bit of hope that she would love it, and then turn around and kiss him on those pretty lips of his. But that was a bit of a stretch, he knew that. They had only talked a handful of times, mostly when she needed help with graphic design - something she struggled with. He knew she preferred a paintbrush to a pencil, and a canvas to a computer screen. Yet, he still wanted her to know how he felt, without actually having to say it out loud to her. As she flipped the pages, the portrait of her came into view, and Calum turned to face the other way, not wanting to see her reaction.

“Um-, Yeah… I forgot that was in there,” He lied, his hand running through his hair as he pulled lightly on the curls.

“Calum...I,”

“I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, it’s just you looked so beautiful and I just had to save that moment without it being creepily on my phone..,” He paused. “I guess it’s still creepy because it’s in my book… but anyway, yeah, you just… you’re just gorgeous, and you felt right at the time, IT-it felt right at the uh.. time,”

Calum questioned whether he had really just said that out loud. He cringed internally when he realised he had, and he tried to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t in a dream. Amelia noticed and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Calum, no, it’s great, it looks just like me, except better,” She chuckled, not tearing her eyes from the drawing of her. It was almost as if it was a photo. Every small detail about her was apparent on the page - the septum piercing, the one freckle that kissed her ear lobe, the freckle under her eye- everything. Even the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips was drawn, and she laughed, somewhat embarrassed at her concentration face. She was flattered, and she could feel her heart racing at the thought a boy like Calum would choose her as his subject. Underneath it, she was built from fire was written in cursive. She smiled at the comment, and remembered how her mother had always told her she didn’t have red hair for nothing.

“That’s not possible,” He whispered, and Amelia looked up at him. Her lips curled into a small smile, and Calum watched her carefully. She closed the book after that and handed it back to him. He stuffed it into his bag, careful to make sure it’s not going to fall out this time.

“Well, I better go, I have class in…,” She looked at her watch. 1:43 p.m. “Seventeen minutes,”

As her hand wrapped around the door handle, she turned around to give him another smile, waiting to see if he had anything to say. He did.

“Actually, Mel-” His eyes widened at the nickname that had just rolled off his tongue, and she giggled at his reaction.

“It’s fine, you can call me Mel,” She replied.

“Great, okay… Mel, did you want to go get a bite to eat after your class? I have the rest of the afternoon free,” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. Amelia began to notice he did this when he was nervous.

“That would be lovely,��

“I’ll see you outside…,”

“L block, at 3 p.m.,” And with that, Amelia disappeared out of sight.

Calum looked around to make sure no one was there, and then fist pumped the air, grabbing his phone out of his pocket to text Luke about what had just happened.

Well, I thought this was a really cute concept. I based it off an au :) Hope ya liked it. (Tbh, I think it could be improved a lil but it’s fine for now)

134 notes · View notes