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pillow-anime-talk · 3 years

Text

dating them.

synopsis: Some sweet, funny and also crazy moments in your relationship.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; mild comedy; fluff; PDA; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. reki kyan, langa hasegawa, miya chinen, kaoru sakurayashiki & kojirou nanjou {sk8}

author’s note: so... i’m just in love with this anime...

— REKI

↘ He’s such a precious boy who cheers you up in the blink of an eye; I think he has an extra sense, so he knows when you feel worse than usual or when you are in even the slightest pain (for example, you bumped your elbow or you haven’t eaten breakfast before ‘cause you missed your alarm clock and therefore you have a stomachache).

↘ Reki is a supportive lover; whether you are passionate about singing, learning languages, reading manga, sewing mascots or painting, a seventeen-year-old will always be right next to you to praise what you do or the way you look. He will notice every, even stupid detail about you and mention it immediately when you’re going to hang out. He’s definitely your fan and doesn’t hide it. Additionally, if you introduce him to what you love, he will also get interested in it in a way and then he will come to you to show off what he has done like a sketch of the two of you or an opinion about the anime you recommended him three days ago.

↘ The boy is really devoted to you and loves physical contact; grabbing a hand, kissing on the cheek or forehead, cute texts in the morning it’s something totally normal for the two of you. I also think that Reki could melt if you run your fingers through his soft hair or make small braids for him, decorating his head with a few colored hairpins or hairbands.

↘ If you know how to skateboarding, he will be delighted and your dates will mostly be about riding together or learning new tricks. Plus, it’s another thing Reki loves about you and wow. He’s even bigger fanboy than before!

↘ However, if you have never ridden or even tried to do it, it doesn’t matter. A teen will be happy to be able to offer you some private lessons if you wish. Again, red-haired adores physical contact, so holding your hands/waist while you stand on his beloved skateboard will be a dream come true for him.

↘ He always has ticket for you, so you make a new banner for each race to support him. Hit me, but I’m 120% sure that after race (whether he won or lost it) he takes your pretty banners and hides them in this special box that has its place on his bedroom closet.

↘ Overall, Reki is a boy who fits to the definition of high school, first love.

— LANGA

↘ Your relationship is a bit more peaceful, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a bit of humor or abstraction.

↘ Langa loves your company so, so, so badly; Reki is quite hot-tempered and is literally everywhere, so when the two of you hang out together after school or at the weekend, blue-haired feels that he can breathe and relax every muscle in his body. You’re his comfort person, and your room is a safe place without fear and noise.

↘ He also enjoys physical contact, but much more prefers to show affection in private, for example in your home or in his own bedroom.

↘ His favorite type of PDA is cuddling; he prefers to be a big spoon and hug you from behind, but he has no problem hugging against your chest or warm stomach, especially when he feels down because of school or racing.

↘ I have a strange feeling that Langa is the type of romantic who would make an amazing Spotify playlist for the two of you so you could listen to the songs, cuddling each other in the bed.

↘ If you can skateboard that’s great! For sure you, Langa and Reki will be a good trio that will meet often in the skate park or in ‘S’. I’m also pretty sure he’ll cheer for you, but at the same time he’ll be very cute with it and definitely more calm than his bestie. For example, if you do a trick... you’ll get a quick kiss on the nose or Langa will buy you your favorite drink. He definitely likes to pamper you.

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard but you really want to start skateboarding to share your lover’s passion... Well, he will definitely give you a short (long) monologue about how dangerous it is, and you need to be careful – because he knows best of all how a fall on butt or face hurts.

↘ He always keeps a tiny set of colored plasters in his jacket or pants pocket to take care of you in the case of an unexpected accident, as Reki used to care for him.

↘ He’s a good teacher, but he will definitely need to calm his emotions, because sometimes instead of showing you how to slide down the railing, he will suggest something more down-to-earth, like going to the cinema to watch the movie you mentioned three days ago.

— MIYA

↘ Ahh, my precious smol baby.

↘ You are Miya’s first partner, so he still thinks that he’s not good enough for you, although you always reassure him with a light peck on the nose that he’s the best thing that has happened to you and that you’re very glad that you can be with him in every good and bad moment.

↘ The teenager is terribly shy about any physical contact outside, so if you aren’t at home, don’t expect a ton of hugs or kisses from him. He much prefers when you two are alone – then he doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the gazes of other people, especially other skaters who like to make fun of him.

↘ I swear I’ll bite and beat them all...

↘ Miya is a delicate soul and he really likes to feel that someone look after him, so in a relationship he definitely prefers when you cares for him. For example; just touch his soft hair, ask about his well-being or when he will have a race and a huge smile will appear on his face.

↘ I think if he feels that you are the only one for him... Maybe he will lend you his favorite hoodie with cat ears and tail? He’ll be overjoyed to see that you feel good in it. You look extremely cute, but he’ll never admit it.

↘ It smells like him, like wet earth and a hint of sweet perfume, and although it’s a strange combination, it feels really beautiful, downright safe and homey.

↘ For the next holiday (your birthday, your anniversary, Valentine’s Day or Christmas), he will give you a sweatshirt that matches to his own. It will be in your favorite color and will also have an animal accessory, not necessarily catish, because if you prefer dogs, rabbits or cows... You know, there are many options.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he will be really calm and will feel that finally someone will want to spend time with him, training and riding together; not like in childhood when everyone turned away from him. He will definitely be moved when you grab his smooth hand and offer a long ride in the park. He definitely loves praise, so give him praise every now and then when he does a nice trick. He will also compliment you more than once and even give you a kiss on the cheek (of course if nobody is watching!). He’s not good at words, but he tries!

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard... He may be a bit skeptical, but naturally he’ll agree to a few lessons in front of your or his house. Of course you originally just wanted to be close to him and hold his hand more often than usual, but it turned out to be pretty fun! Now, training is your typical dates.

↘ Miya is a sweet boy and although he may not look like that, he’s really protective, often jealous and always puts you at first place.

— KAORU

↘ This beautiful man, this angel-looking ideal, this ahhhh... Being in a relationship with him is pure pleasure and daily healing for the soul.

↘ He’s a calm, understanding and loving partner. I think he’s a bit old fashioned but that only adds much more charm to his person.

↘ He often calls you his ‘dearest’, ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, isn’t that cute?

↘ You two don’t go out on dates too often, but I think Kaoru loves to spend time at home, having tea or on the couch while one of you is reading a book and the other is listening to music or just sleeping. He definitely doesn’t look like that, but he loves PDA/cuddling and is the best at it!

↘ He also likes it when you suggest learning calligraphy together. He never forced you to do this, but when he first heard that you would like to meet one of his passions, he was really happy and immediately showed you how to write with ink on the special paper he had in his flat. Obviously, more than once you ask him to write a simple letter or word, because you just love his handwriting and how focused he seems. He’s really hot then, I swear to god!

↘ You love his long hair and are always eager to give him a new, nice hairstyle; normal braid or fishtail braid. Maybe a bun or a ponytail with a few hairpins? He loves everything you do on him. In addition, the gentle head massage you give him each time is the most soothing thing in the world for him.

↘ If you know how to skating... He’s really surprised, but that doesn’t mean he’s unhappy or angry. He wants to see what you can do right away and you will surely feel a sweet kiss on your forehead more than once when the trick will be good or even better than you both thought. He’s a supportive boy, but doesn’t show it as vehemently as Reki, for example; he prefers to smile at you or clap softly.

↘ If you don’t know how to skate yet, but you asked him to teach you how to even stand on it... I imagine Kaoru going pale and trying to distract you from this idea because, as an experienced skater, he’s afraid that you will hurt yourself like any beginner. But your big eyes and ruddy cheeks are his weaknesses, so he’ll trust both you and Carla and help you keep your balance on his beloved, black-violet board. Reward him later with quick kisses or give him his favorites, okay?

↘ To sum up, Kaoru is a good and honest lover. He definitely loves your company and won’t mind spending his free time seriously and frivolously with you.

— KOJIROU

↘ This guy is the definition of the sentence ‘Through the stomach to the heart’. Any objections? No. So let’s gooooo!

↘ Kojirou is a PERFECT second half. Both in character and appearance. If he fall in love with someone seriously, and it will be you, then know that he’ll care for you like about a member of the royal family; breakfasts in bed, an Italian supper, the perfect choice of wine for a chicken or steak are things that have become a sweet daily thing for you at some point.

↘ He loves to show you affection and absolutely has no problem doing it in public, even when he’s working or when you two are in a tight crowd on the train or in the ‘S’ before his race. He will kiss you hard on the lips, grab your skin on your butt or hug your waist. It’s just that everyone needs to know that you belong to him. He’s just as clingy as Reki, and sometimes even worse and bolder.

↘ Of course he has cute side; he likes to lie on the bed or the sofa with you on his chest. He loves being between your thighs and sleep there. He definitely has a weak point in that when you you run your finger on his tattoo or cook dinner with him, throwing ingredients at him and laughing out loud.

↘ Another romantic who uses thousands of pet names (like babey, cutie, doll, pumpkin, kitten). Plus, he loves to dance with you in the kitchen and steal a few kisses here and there. Also, if you aren’t looking, he likes to surprise you with a big, bear hug.

↘ I think he’s a bit impatient, so he doesn’t like to sit at home and prefers dates in crazy places (such as an amusement park, swimming pool, karaoke bar) – it’s his favorite way of spending your time together. As a gentleman, he always pays for you, unless you go faster and bring your ATM card to the card reader as first. But don’t be surprised when Kojirou will just buy you cotton candy or popcorn shortly afterwards.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he’s as excited as a kid and will definitely offer you a date at the skate park. Naturally, he wants to show off to others what a super cool partner he has, but he also wants others to know that you’re here together to kick everyone’s asses with your abilities. You’re definitely a powerful couple and you have the matching necklaces!

↘ But if you don’t know how to skating then... well, well, well. Just be prepared that one day (without even asking for it) you’ll stand on his beloved board and he will grab your hips, smiling silly. He enjoy skin ship so this guy feels utopian when he can be near you. He definitely won’t spare you compliments, long pecks, and smack your butt when you do something great, so you have to get used to it... and it’s going to be a long training session, so good luck, my friend.

↘ He’s a funny guy, but he’ll never cross your limits, so don’t worry about that. However, he will always find a topic for conversation or a joke to relax the atmosphere or cheer you up. You will never be bored with him.

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

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Might we get some Sebastian Zollner soft smut 👀 maybe even like young him when he was still trying to do his own painting and you were his nude model

The Artist and his Muse [Sebastian Zöllner x his Muse]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut, bit pf fem!dom and a mess of a man

A/N: As usual Sebastian is my weakest spot. The painting here is "In the Tepidarium" by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema.

You stood there quietly, a sense of expectation taking over you when he opened the door at you. You noticed him from day one and now you had to wrap the situation between the two of you.

"There you are"

He only said letting you inside, a second voice greeting you.

"Hey! Seb is that your girlfriend?"

He waved at his flatmate to shut up as he put an hand on your lower back pushing you to get out of that situation fast.

As you got into his tiny room it was a mess.

The space was small, scattered art books and biographies of great artists everywhere on the floor, on the big inclined drawing desk, one of those like architects had. Then drawings, drawings everywhere from the floor to the walls, from over the bed to every visible corner of the room.

Also mugs, ashtrays filled up everywhere, more mugs used as ashtrays and some leftover food also used as ashtray.

The place would have been grey and dull if it wasn't so chaotic and full of colours.

You also noticed from the big amount of duvets over the bed that the place was cold.

"Get your stuff here"

He said moving his, hopefully clean, clothes off a chair so you could lean your stuff there.

"Thank you for coming" he added briefly and you smiled.

"Thank you for inviting me"

It wasn't like you had much choice, you posed for the art academy, but some extra money was always nice and he daunted you for weeks by now, so in the end you said yes.

"So, let's begin or do you need anything?"

"Some water would be nice" you said as he nodded taking a glass full of dirty water, probably used to get wet the brushes, and going away. You heard him throw it away and briefly wash it before coming back to you with the glass full of water and still half dirty.

You smiled as you took it taking a sip only to be polite putting it back on side.

"Now please" he gestured something, he did a lot of hand gestures and a lot of waving like he was constantly trying to get rid of some smoke surrounding him.

"Get naked" he concluded and you nodded quietly undoing your dress as he looked away to look trough some of all those sketches he had around the room finally showing you a sketch of a standing naked figure, he clearly had some ideas for the background and it was quite classic as structure.

"You can hold this" he said handing you a ball "hold it low, around here" he said pressing the ball over your lower stomach.

"You know ,like a fortune teller" he said before giving you his back to prepare the easel and put on the canvas. You notice he sketched the back of it, so he probably didn't have all of that money. The chances to be paid becoming small by minute, but you were here and he was awkward enough to intimidate you a bit.

You put the ball down and proceeded to undress, you folded your clothing over the chair he freed for you and piled them neatly before picking the ball again.

"ruffle your hair, I need a kind of unkept vibe"

you nodded as you held the ball under your arm and with one hand you ruffled your hair standing nicely in place as you put the ball back to its position.

He stared at you as he leaned on side, he jerked his hand blindly on side to turn on the small radio to some low indie pop channel.

You took your time to observe him as you stared in front of you.

He had longish hair and he tied them up into an half bun, a soft beard. He wore a used t-shirt from the band The Smiths already stained with colour and some blue pants that must be his kind of working from home uniform.

He was barefoot and you noticed he bowed his feet inward as he got pensive, like a way to get extra relaxed.

He was cute, you had to admit it. He was also the first in line most of the time during real life drawing lessons, you could tell he was striving for it but he didn't take well criticism. He would glare and frown at every critic, nag at his bottom lip as he resumed his sketching every time with more passion.

It was always weird to go and see a student on your own. When you were working at the academy it was easy because you had a clear shift and pauses, while when working with artists alone you always had to give in some time.

"Relax your shoulders"

You blinked like his words woke you up and you took a deep breath resuming your position.

"It is a study for a classical image, you know something like Alma Tadema works, only modern" you smiled as you liked that painter and you nodded.

Silence took over as he observed you and disappeared behind the canvas. He was nervous from the moment you agreed to meet him alone. he felt like a creep because he always had a bit of a crush on you and he was upset when for a reason or another you were not the model on certain days. You were everything he liked, every proportion of your body was the ideal he had as an artist.

He sketched your shape as for once he had all the time, no change of position, nobody calling it too difficult or interrupting the moment.

He huffed softly as he got too excited awaiting for this moment he couldn't sleep at night and he even cleaned up his room. Well, you could tell he tried.

He observed every detail of you: from the way you had little moles scattered on your body that he never noticed before to the way your collarbone met deliciously under your neck, how your shoulders drifted up every now and then to unease the tension from the lack of movement. He bit on the inside of your cheek as he sketched the navel of your hips, the delicious curve where so many times he imagined to bury his head into, to be kept safe from the welcoming world of your female form, the origin of the world of erotica.

He frowned as you moved to take a sip of water, he looked at the time, 30 minutes already gone?

He stared down to the canvas as he had to focus, focus focus.

"Seb?? Do you have my lighter??"

A male voice that you guessed belonged to his flatmate shouted and he picked a cigarette

"NO" he shouted louder as the other guy groaned from behind the door, you smirked as you watched him light up his cigarette with a metal lighter and blow some smoke.

He resumed his sketching and you relaxed after some time, your eyes darting away as you barely saw him beside the smoke raising from behind the canvas.

"SEB"

Another shout interrupting but this time it was another flatmate that just bounced the door open. You gulped in surprise as you didn't have anything at hand to cover yourself

"What shit is this? What kind of pervert are you?"

The guy asked as Sebastian thew the pencil at him.

"Fuck you" he shouted "get the fuck out, out!" he jumped off his seat throwing the lit cigarette at him. And that’s why you hated to go to people's houses. Other that don't study art looked at you like that, like something dirt ,like a naked woman.

You sighed as you moved toward the bed covering yourself with one of the countless duvets scattered in the room, it was warm and soft at least. You looked away trying to zone out from the little fight going on between Sebastian and his the other guy.

"Sorry"

He said as he locked the door and pushed the drawer in front of it huffing and panting as he came to you showing with a gesture of his hand your way back to that position.

"No, look it is better if I leave, if you want to do it a private session let's do it at the school" you said as you got enough of that place and his flatmates and you also realised that if he lived in that chaos he probably didn't have the money to book the room and also pay you.

"no, no, no, no" he repeated as he moved after you as you marched to collect your belonging.

"please, they are just idiots" he said as he looked like he was ready to have a panic attack.

"I can see that myself, so that's better to end it now"

"no, no you don't understand"

You chuckled as you looked at him "don't understand what? the power of art?" you inquired as you had heard all sorts of excuses about it.

"I need you"

He said helplessly as your frowned and looked away as he gabbed you by your duvet yanking you back a little.

“I don’t work with other models, I can’t process it, when you’re there I am productive, I work and overwork, and my head is full of ideas, of hopes and more and more ideas, I can see things in perspective, I can feel it, it is like a raging fire and I need you t make it start, just please, just listen to me”

You tried to focus onto what was around you and there's when you noticed that from this new perspective you saw the sketch.

You moved closer to it as you admired how delicate was Sebastian's hand, he made little traits, quick slashes that made your figure look like you had never seen yourself before and you had actually seen a lot of sketches of yourself, so many pointing out unflattering things about your body that you tried to avoid having a look at those sketches.

"it is rough, don't" he said as he still held you by the duvet but he noticed you look up at the canvas.

He had never been this close to you. You smelled like fresh flowers and soft creamy after bath lotion, one of those that say your skin will be like honey and milk. He was sure you tasted like it.

He gulped down nervously as now this was widely unprofessional and he would have given all he had to avoid this moment and yet he daydreamed of it for so long while watching you getting dressed after the lesson.

"I apologise, I swear, I never.. I mean I know this is not the best place but I never felt like I do with you before and I didn’t want to screw it up on the first time”

You didn't really had the time to answer as he clashed his lips over yours grabbing the sides of your face with his hands and it was so desperate like he was about to break down.

You pushed him off as he frowned visibly. He looked so taken aback and saddened now.

You almost chuckled to his face as he looked like a pup that got smacked in the muzzle for biting onto something pricy.

You tugged him by his shirt still wrapped up in that duvet pushing him to sit down.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out of it when you moved to straddle him.

"Stay still"

You said as you moved your hand to his jaw making him close his mouth, he stared at you as you brushed you lips against his, he looked at you intensely before closing his eyes and letting you guide him into that kiss. He let out a soft sound as you showed him what kisses are made for, not that fearful rushed slamming from his mouth to yours.

"You're a goddess" he whispered softly as he leaned for another kiss. He pulled onto that duvet now hungry for more.

"Calm down, don't rush so much" you whispered as he almost didn't know what to do with himself. He was hard already, he was desperate for you that colonised his dreams for so long.

"Damn" he groaned as you lowered your hips against his. He stared at you panting softly as you started grinding against him, the fabric of his joggers was soft but you would have endured some itchy feeling just for the way he trembled and groaned from the friction you gifted. You were sure his boxers must be filled with precum already.

"Can I touch you?"

"Not yet" you whispered. You loved the way he draw you, you saw all the desire behind it and he deserved to enjoy it and not to rush through it.

"Fuck please, i have never" he stopped himself as you looked at you curiously.

"I did everything but that" he said as he tried to avoid to mention how usually girls got so annoyed with his that after a very good cunnilingus they would ask him to leave.

"even better then" you said as he looked so nervous it was adorable. you leaned in and kissed him again as he let you take off his shirt as he stared at you adoringly, the duvet falling off your torso as his eyes fluttered closed letting you guide him in the kiss, he had a lot to learn but he was eager to.

You swiped your tongue over his lips as he parted them and groaned as you joined your lips in a more eager kiss, your tongue trying his as his hips jerked aimlessly against you trying to get some relief, but you moved your hips away not willing to satisfy him too fast. He was used to stare at you, to long for you with his eyes and now he had to persevere in that.

You pulled back from him moving to stand up between his legs letting the duvet fall off your body, now the act taking a whole new meaning for him as you kneeled down taking off his clothing.

You pushed his cock out slowly stroking it, your cold fingers making him hiss as you pumped him slowly, your lips moved across his cock slowly sucking on it and tracing its length with your tongue.

“If you cum I will leave”

The threatening enough to make him groan, he couldn’t take his eyes off from you even if that made him only more horny.

“Fuck” he hissed as you sucked on his needy tip already spread with premium, your tongue twirling over it before taking it whole in your mouth.

Oh the strangled moan he let out.

He held over the edge of the bed like a dear of life, your bobbing head making him lose his mind, you let out soft moans and humming sound that echoed through his whole body.

“Fuck”

He repeated, more helplessly than before if possible, as he closed his eyes, he squeezed them as his thighs trembled eagerly fighting against his natural eager nature.

You pulled back as you stood up and he let out a loud groan.

“Look at you, already a mess”

You smirked as you moved to straddle him, your bare slit tracing his cock like your tongue just did before letting the tip of it inside you, then you pulled back making him cry out.

Once again, his hips jerked up helplessly.

“Please” he groaned “I need it, I need it” he begged as you held him by his jaw with your left hand as your right one guided him inside you.

You stared at him as you did, his eyes widened, his pupils blown as your warmth engulfed him and wrapped him in a dense sense of pleasure.

“Move, move”

Your leaned your head on side

“Please”

You still didn’t wince, he parted his lips not knowing what to say.

“You have been staring at me like that all that time, do you think I didn’t notice?” You whispered as he licked his lips nervously

“You used me for your little dreams didn’t you? I bet you wanked like a loser with your sketches, you were getting hard on the first day only”

He whined like a suffering cat his thighs trembling as he was bouncing on his heels lightly

“Am I wrong?”

He shook his head to you and you smirked

“I have been your fantasy, now, you’re going to be mine”

He moaned as you begun to move, your lips meeting his as he sucked onto your finger before you moved your own hand to rub your clit, he was completely out of his zone. He used to be hungry and straightforward and now he was just an idiot who didn’t know where to place his hands.

“My muse” he groaned as your moves were making him go wild, his hips jerking against yours “my muse”

He repeated it as you pushed him to lay onto his bed, your sensual bouncing over his lap making any sane man become a priest for your religion.

“Fill me Sebastian, please me”

You moaned as you rubbed over your own clit as he squeezed your thighs unable to phantom any move, to focus.

His mouth hanged open, he licked his lips and groaned, your permission making him lose control as he released inside you.

He kissed onto your lips rising to sit up, arms around your waist as he nuzzled helplessly against you.

A whole new world open in front of him.

“Do you want to paint me now?”

He nodded looking up at you, hair stuck up to his sweaty forehead as he looked so lost, pupils blown and erratic breath.

You smiled tenderly to him tracing his face with your fingertips guiding him into another kiss that he won’t forget for a lifetime.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

#sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zollner smut #sebastian zollner x y/n #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zollner #sebastian zöllner #ich und Kaminski fanfiction

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years

Text

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

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moth-song-archives · 3 years

Text

The Insatiable Flow of Time (1/8)

I remembered that I can make posts here too huh! Anyways, I wrote a post-MAG200 fic <3

I’ll reblog it again with the link to ao3 if you’d prefer reading it there :D

Rating: Teens and Up Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Categories: F/F Relationships: Georgie/Melanie, Georgie & Jon, Jonmartin (mentioned) Characters: Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Jonathan Sims, the Admiral, Basira Hussain (mentioned), Rosie Zampano (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned)

Additional tags: Diary/Journal × post mag200 × Post-Canon × Canon Compliant × Rated for swearing and me doing my best to write a fitting epilogue for my most fave story of all time × Bittersweet × Hurt/Comfort × Grief/Mourning × Gentle-Sad-Soft × Fluff × Non-Sexual Intimacy × Tenderness × Generally Hopeful Ending × Ambiguous/Open Ending × Catharsis × You know how TMA is a tragedy? ... yeah × Hope Punk × dealing with the fallout of surviving a literal apocalypse × Moving on and letting go × Trans Georgie Barker × Nonbinary Melanie King × Melanie uses any pronouns but needs to (re)discover this first × and is then mainly referred to with they/them pronouns for diary-simplicity × Melanie is ace in my heart ♡ × Jon is also enby but it only gets referred to in passing × Georgie has a Type™ × Character Study × i love them all so much × Nonbinary aspec author × it's very hope punk and somft BUT ALSO VERY SAD × in like a cathartic way × because i like causing pain :') × pre-written and updates every 2-3 days

I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

As the world tries to piece itself back together, Georgie grapples with her past, her present, and her future by keeping a diary. She also keeps having this strange, recurring dream that involves Jon. Post MAG200.

Finished at ~12k, will upload over the next couple of days <3

Day 3 - Evening

Melanie is sleeping. Basira is also sleeping, on the sofa in the living-room. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, these days, so for now she’s staying with us.

I am not sleeping. I’m so far beyond tired that I can’t sleep anymore. It’s been... how long? More than a day, certainly. I’m at the kitchen table and the night outside is darker than any I’ve ever seen. There are no street lights and a million more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. I wish Melanie could see them too :(

Back before everything in my life went wrong, I used to be really good at this. I think I got my first diary when I was... seven, maybe eight? I used to be obsessed with it. I guess I stopped writing in college, after the incident, because it felt... wrong? Like I was lying to myself, trying to fabricate emotions that just weren’t there, keeping up with things that no longer seemed important or note-worthy. Mainly, I couldn’t make myself care about anyone or anything anymore.

I think I want to find that person again, now that it’s over. Try and… move on? And Melanie encouraged me :) I guess that’s the main reason. I found this notebook in one of the domains when we were rescuing people. I don’t know what I originally wanted to do with it, but I did end up forgetting about it until I went through my bag again today. It smells like fire and is a bit singed in places, but I kind of like that? I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. ...that sounds very pretentious, but this is just for me, so...

And I like that it’s just cheap paper scribbled on with a shitty biro. Maybe I’ll just burn it when all the thoughts are on the paper instead of in my head. When I can sleep again. And the prize for the most dramatic way of closure goes to Georgie Barker! But yeah. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel different, now that they’re gone? The entities, I mean, though Jon and Martin seem to be gone, too.

I keep remembering Martin’s expression when he told us to go early, how upset he was.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. As long as I’ve known Jon, he’s always done what he thought best. It used to drive me up the walls, but I also admired it, I think? I never would’ve told him that, but… Well. He’s gone now.

It’s over, all of it.

And I still can’t sleep.

And Melanie is still blind, and I still feel empty, and my fear still hasn’t come back. Everyone who died is still dead, and the trauma is still there. There were angry mobs in the streets, and people got killed.

I can’t quite believe that Jon and Martin went with them. I can’t believe they left us behind to explain the entire mess.

We’re back in our old flat. It’s so weird to be back home. Everything looks the same, as though no time passed at all. Nobody knows what date it is. How long were we caught in there?

Outside, it feels like spring. There are birds everywhere, singing their hearts out. Sounds like more birds than there used to be, too. The trees are leafless and dead-looking, but Basira pointed out that they’re getting there... and it feels like spring.

I haven’t slept properly in 3 days because the questions keep me awake. It’s not that I’m worrying, really, just… thinking? I think I could sleep better if the worry had come back, but it hasn’t.

As far as we can tell, all modern devices are broken, too. Computers and phones and such, digital cameras, generators... we don’t even know what the rest of the world looks like. I hadn’t realised how much gets controlled by computers these days, we don’t even have central heating or water access in our flat. Rumours and news are spreading person-to-person, like in the Olden Days. We only have emergency systems that were installed in case of nation-wide blackout. I guess I’m glad we don’t actually have a blackout, we just need to get the computers back to work. (If I understood it correctly.)

Melanie thinks it’ll all come back to life in a few more days. I certainly hope so. I also hope I’ll stop feeling like this. Or rather, not feeling like anything. It’s so strange. Like in the first days after the incident, when I just felt numb?

They’re gone! I want to feel like a person again! What if I never get myself back?

They’re actually gone.

What will we do with our lives now? Basira isn’t the only one who feels uprooted. I think the whole world feels like that right now.

I hope my computer comes back soon. I miss music, and making things. My photos, all those memories.

I don’t want to lose all of that. I want to start fresh, but not without records of the past.

…I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, specifically. Records, and futures.

What the Ghost is done, right? There’s no fun in creepy ghost stories if you’ve been through an actual, living nightmare.

I think I want to start new with that, too. When everything works again, that is.

New world, new future, new podcast. I like that. I think. Make a record of what happened through eyewitness accounts? Or is that too similar to the Statements… then again, it’ll be more like interviews. And I think we shouldn’t forget.

We owe them that much.

I’ll have to talk it over with Melanie tomorrow. Maybe.

We’ll see.

God, I think maybe… maybe I can actually try and sleep tonight. Writing does seem to help.

Note to self: thank Laverne for suggesting it. (Also for being there for Melanie. And listening to us. And stopping with that culty nonsense. She’s the only one we found so far, but she actually listened to us. Strange to think that in this world, I have to be grateful for someone not worshipping me for some dumb reason?!)

Day 4 - Morning

So. Three things.

1) I did manage to fall asleep after all! I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, especially after the incident, so actually getting some proper rest felt really good.

2) I somehow woke up right as the sun went up! I think I’ve never seen a dawn this beautiful? I watched it from the bedroom window and I’ll definitely describe it to her in detail when she wakes up! The Admiral was sleeping on our pillow, right next to her head, snuggled up against the back of her neck and shoulder... it was so cute. I can’t believe my phone and camera still don’t work! Melanie has that old polaroid camera somewhere but we haven’t found it yet, and I wish my art skills were any better. I did draw a sketch of the two of them though. I’ll cherish it forever, no matter how shitty it is :’)

After everything that happened, the Admiral is still a bit weird around us. He started out really aggressive, calmed down a bit, and now… now he’s weirdly skittish? Meows a lot. Keeps walking around the flat. The only thing that even remotely returns him to how he used to be is tuna. It’s weird.

But seeing him like that, with Melanie? I love him so much.

I think he’ll be okay.

But before I forget, and why I actually got out the diary at this ungodly hour instead of trying to go back to sleep now that the sun is up…

3) I had a really nice dream. And... I don’t even know. I think I want to try and hold onto the feeling? I don’t think I’ve felt that… deeply… in a long while. Maybe the last time was before all this, when we decided to move in together. Before all of this happened.

For a moment, I felt like I was whole again :’)

It didn’t even have Melanie in it, which is very rude tbh. I think Jon was there? The Admiral, too. We were just chilling on the sofa, watching netflix I think... It felt so... mundane??? Casual, somehow??? Like it was normal to feel like that and I just... I want THAT. I want to feel like that again, instead of this weird… blank nothingness? I want that all the time, not just when I’m riding a high or feeling so terrible that it pierces through.

I don’t know if that makes sense but this is just for me anyway so I suppose it doesn’t have to.

I think I should feel bad about Jon being gone, but I still don’t even feel relief at it being over. Just this vague numbness.

I hate it so much, except I don’t, actually, I just know that I should?

Melanie keeps saying that I need a therapist but if we’re being honest here, I guess I need one the least? The whole goddamn world needs therapy right now. Including the therapists. And I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now.

I guess I keep hoping it’ll just go away somehow.

Anyways. Enough introspection, I’m going back to bed. I hope I don’t wake them! :)

Day 4 - Evening

It’s night now, the sun went down hours ago. We have a bunch of candles, but I’m trying to use them sparingly, so I just have one lit. I put a glass of water next to the candle so now the light gets magnified a bit more. It’s a weird atmosphere, but I kinda like it? Feels… cozy! :)

I’m still not over how everything looks the same, but nothing works like it did before, and there’s this… burden? This collective trauma everyone went through. It feels so surreal. So many things are still broken… it’s like we woke from a collective nightmare, but pieces of it still remain, floating around.

And we just sent it away with the tapes. I really hope those other worlds are doing better than us, but what else could we have done? I… try not to think about it. I know I should, but I still can’t really bring myself to care, or even feel overly guilty for that? …

Melanie fell asleep with her head in my lap half an hour ago. I was reading to her. She says she loves the sound of my voice, so I’ve started doing that in the evenings. (I still love that we had separate crushes from a distance on each other for ages because of youtube and WTG. We’ve been talking about that a lot, too.)

She still has nightmares, but apparently she’s also been having good dreams, and she looks so peaceful right now. The last few days have been a lot, but in comparison to before, and even before then…

It’s over. We made it out. We get to have a future together. I still can’t quite believe it. :)

I guess I’m writing again (despite already having done so in the morning) because it somehow helped yesterday and I’m hoping to replicate that. And I have a lot to think about. It’s been a long day.

Basira is still out there, helping out where she can. I think she feels guilty. Melanie says she doesn’t because there was no other choice, but I know her, and I know that she’s lying.

There’s always another choice. We just say that to make it easier to bear.

I hope she knows she can come talk to me when she feels ready to tackle it.

I hope I ever feel able to tackle it myself. No. I will talk to her when I’m ready.

We did talk a bit about things, of course. Melanie doesn’t really remember her dreams, most of the time, but apparently she’s been alternating between horrifying nightmares and a really nice, recurring one that sometimes happens after the nightmares. She doesn’t really remember much of it, but she mentioned it after I told her about the Jon dream. Not what it was about, just… in general.

From the way she talked about it, I think her dad might have been in it? I’m actually not sure, but the way she smiled…

She has that little smile on her lips again, even now, dreaming. The soft one she gets when she talks about good things. About him.

About me.

(I still can’t believe she chose me. How impossibly lucky? How did I ever deserve her? But then, it’s not about that, is it? She is mine, and I am hers, and… life will be good. I know it will be.)

She’s been smiling a lot more, these past few days.

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caffeinetheory · 4 years

Note

Can I humbly request some fake dating Jasonette?

Okay fair warning I kinda went ham and this is long, it’s like ten pages but for you it was worth it, I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3 now without further adieu:

///

Jason was in dire need of a date for the upcoming Gala, why you might ask? Well someone wasn’t thinking and said they had a secret girlfriend, which didn’t exist. Now the whole family was happy he had finally found someone. Dick was the most persistent, the hopeless romantic he was.

Telling Diana about over lunch a 2 months before the big annual charity gala was either the best decision he made or one he would regret, only time would tell.

She laughed in his face at his stupidity, but was willing to help. She sent a text and rolled her eyes when she got a response a few minutes later, “My sister will do it, be prepared to meet her next week at your place,” and that was that. He wasn’t expecting to actually get a date from her but hey, if it worked then he’ll go with it. He had about 2 months to make it believable, but god why did it have to be an Amazon.

A knock on his apartment door at 3 a.m. was now how Jason would be meeting who ever Diana had convinced to do this “fake date” thing with him, so a 5”6’ women pushing herself into his apartment when the door was opened certainly woke him up.

“And who might you be?” the door closed behind him with a soft click, the woman was surveying the room with a judgemental look, ‘lovely’. She turned sharply to him, her distaste clear on her face, “Someone who lost a bet so I owe Diana a favor,” she visibly sighed and relaxed slightly, “I’m sorry, my name is Marinette Prince, but you can call me Mari, nice to meet you.” Mari held her hand to the bewildered Jason who hesitantly shook it, “Jason Todd but I'm going to assume you already knew that.”

And that was the rocky start to their relationship. Mari had been living on Themyscira for the last few years so she needed some time to get used to living in the rest of the world. To say she was ecstatic to be able to wear more modern fashion would be an understatement. Their first ‘date’ was in the fashion district a few days after she made herself at home in his apartment. Six hours after they started Mari was finally satisfied, and Jason could no longer feel his arms. They decided to eat dinner at one of the hole-in-the-walls on their way back to Jason’s place.

Neither knew how the conversation had gotten on the different costumes of the various heroes and villains but it had sent Mari off on a rant. Despite himself Jason was enjoying every word she said, every critique and every praise. To be fair there wasn’t as much praise was there was critique, but to say his ego wasn’t inflated when “one of the rare acceptable ones” was the Red Hood would be a straight up lie. It was the first time Mari was acting with little to no filter, and granted they hadn’t known each other long he could tell this was rare for her. He was finding himself proud that he was the one to get her to be open like that, why he couldn’t tell you but it did nonetheless.

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

The two had fallen into domestic life pretty quickly, maybe to quickly, but that didn’t matter. When Jason came home to a clean apartment and dinner being made by his ‘girlfriend’ he was surprisingly okay with it.

“How was your day?” Mari was placing two plates of something heavenly on the small table just outside of the kitchen. Was that table always there? “It was decent, yours?” he began to dig in while a drink was placed next to him and Mari took her seat across from him. “It was nice, I finally got around to cleaning this place up,” her hair was put in a pair of double buns as she wore some shorts and a tank top clearly having changed recently.

“You know you didn’t have to right?”

“I enjoy organizing and consider it a small thanks for helping me with shopping the other day and dealing with my rants,” she had a small smile on her face.

The rest of the night was spent showing Jason where she put everything. The number of guns didn't faze her but living surrounded by weapons he supposed that made sense. The organized first-aid kit was a god send though, on more ruined towels to stop the bleeding.

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

The next date Jason planned was a movie, it was Diana’s idea. He couldn’t figure out why taking Mari to an anniversary replaying of an animated superhero movie from almost ten years ago would be in her words “comedy gold”. That was until Mari saw the opening theme and let out a loud groan.

An hour and fifteen minutes later the credits start to roll and Mari is practically dragging him out of the theater. “This was Diana’s idea wasn’t it?!” Jason couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him, Diana was right this was golden, the only thing she got this heated about what the costumes but this felt more personal. “I swear to the gods, I hate that movie! Nothing was right, He’s like my brother! And I may have been young but I wasn’t STUPID?!” Mari realizes her misstep and quickly covered her mouth dropping Jason’s wrist making him stumble, “Well, M’Lady,” he got punched for that, “I am inclined to believe the totally historically accurate animated film,” she rolled her eyes at him, “It does explain a lot though, and lets just say you're not the only one with red suits in their past,” a wink and another punch in the arm and they left the theater a laughing mess leaning on each other so they wouldn’t fall over. “Oh you arse,” “You know you love me,” another light punch, this one with very little behind it, “Worth it!”

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

Their third date was more impulsive than the last one. It had been a tough week. For Jason his family was hounding him for details about his girl and the last case he helped with took more effort than he thought it would. Mari on the other hand had been working all week on commission (how Bruce Wayne found out about her she didn't want to know) sketches, she had to make close to ten outfits for the Gala in a month and a half, sure she could do it but the perfectionist in her meant very little sleep. She still had hers and Jason’s to make, not that he knew that yet.

That Saturday they found themselves at a small coffee shop Tim liked to rave about. It was homey place, and they both needed to get out of the house.

“You know if the replacement sees us you’re gonna have to talk about how we met-” a finger shushed him, Mari looked more dead than Tim did, she needed her coffee fix, anything else could wait.

“Shhhhh Coffee now, annoying family later,” her words were slightly slurred, she hadn’t slept in two days but she finished the sketches to be approved so that was a positive.

Once the once the vanilla and cinnamon coffee hit her system she was her joyful self again. Jason had gotten himself a honey chamomile tea, it always helped with the stress. What was originally supposed to be a quick in and out ended up with them spending most of the morning just chatting.

They talked about anything and everything. They had been living together for about 3 weeks now so they were leaning the other’s quirks. She finally told him what she was working on, and laughed as his face scrunched up hearing his adoptive fathers name, she had to admit it was kinda cute. Mari also came clean about needed his measurements so they could have matching outfits, she showed him the designs. Jason had to admit he was impressed, and noticing how they looked like something MDC would make he learned another thing about the girl with him. She sure was full of secrets.

The rest of the day after their lovely coffee ‘date’ was spent going to fabric stores getting the stuff she needed to make everyone's outfits. Each one had elements that hinted subtly to their alter egos and pasts while still have a consistent color scheme and accents that paired the couples.

Jason gained yet another layer of appreciation for the girl, what couldn't she do?

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

Turns out taking her to the Gotham Botanical Gardens was a way better idea than Jason had originally thought it would be. The plants seemed to grow and perk up as she walked by. Her smile brighten up the whole room; as she twirled in a pale green sundress inspired by the keeper of the gardens Jason couldn’t help but smile as well. She really looked like a goddess in this light. He couldn’t be happier he helped bring that smile and joy to her face, she deserved the world. When he started thinking like that he couldn’t tell you but the idea this would end soon was one he avoided thinking about. Maybe there wouldn’t be an end, but only time would tell wouldn’t it?

Ivy sensed something was different in her precious gardens and went to investigate, her girlfriend followed to make sure on one got overly hurt. Both of them were shocked to see the plants blooming more than usual and just two people walking the gardens. The girl seemed to be making the pants so happy Ivy just had to talk with her, so she quietly made her was over to the young women hoping to not scare her. Harley made her way over to the former Robin, a little teasing was in order.

Yet another surprise from the former Ladybug he probably should have seen coming, Ivy adored the woman, insisting that she come more often to which Mari eagerly agreed complementing Ivy’s botanical knowledge the whole time. Suprisong himself he didn’t deny Harley’s tasing about his feelings for her, she really was something special wasn’t she?

-----------

When Mari found out Jason hadn’t seen all of the Star Wars movies she made him sit with her all weekend to watch them, he only agreed if they would watch all of Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit trilogy the next weeked.

Their next two weekends were now booked and snack runs were made. Jason made the Living room into a palace of blankets and pillows while Mari prepared snacks and drinks. They wouldn’t be getting up for awhile.

When episode 3’s credits were rolling Mari made an offhand comment about how hot Anakin was and how she felt bad for his fate, well Jason felt a little envious. Something about misunderstood, dark haired boys was Mari’s type apparently. The subtle hints were lost on him but they enjoyed the rest of the films. They skipped the newer trilogy for time and so they had something to watch in theaters.

Mari fell asleep on his arm mid way through episode 6 and Jason couldn’t bring himself to wake her, he fell asleep as the end credits rolled. Both had a content smile on their faces as they dreamed of fantasy worlds long ago and far far away.

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Mari had a surprise for Jason, “Come on Jay, get out of bed already,” she was pulling him out of bed on a tuesday, TUESDAY!

With much prodding and poking Mari was able to get them out of the apartment by 8, she had a surprise for him and refused to tell him what it was. “Just trust me it will be worth it,” she handed him his helmet and got on his bike. He found himself not minding someone else driving his bike for once.

The wind was blowing fast as they left the center of the city, they were in the outskirts in a more smalltown area of the city. It was like a whole different world like they had gone to a place untouched by the corruption of Gotham propper. They finally slowed down and parked in front of an older building. Secret Cave the sign read, no way, did she really go out of her way to take him here.

Taking off her helmet she shook her head to loosen her ponytail, he took this chance to really look at her. She was wearing a red v-neck under one of his older leather jackets and some dark blue jeans. She had a small black bag what went with her combat boots, both had flowers embroidered on them, he had to admit she was beautiful.

“Come on Jay, I got a surprise for you,” she was pulling his hand now as they entered the spacious store, books covered every surface and there were rows upon rows of selves. It was almost hard to move, not wanting to disturb the books but they had made it to one of the small sitting areas, “Wait here I’ll be right back.” Jaso found himself obeying and looking at the books in the area, lots of classic literature in fancy leather bound editions and some of the quintessential plays everyone had to read at some point in their original language, this was heaven for a book nerd like him.

20 Minutes later a hand covered his eyes, “Guess who,” her laugh melted his heart, “I don’t know, maybe… one Mari” he scooped her up in a hug, “I love you so much,” before he could realize what he had said, “I know you big nerd, I love you too.”

When he finally put her down, the blush was on both of their faces at their confessions, ‘they didn’t really mean that did they’ she gave him a thick parcel. “Open it later big guy, but consider it a thank you for everything.” her blush seemed to get worse but so was his, maybe it was the room, yeah it had to be right? “I should be the one thanking you but okay…” he trailed off not quite knowing where to go with this conversation, there was so many things he wanted to say to her but he couldn’t get the words out of his throat. Unknown to him Mari was in the same boat, after a beat of silence, “Want to go to the café next door than browse some more?” “Absolutely.”

They left the shop, hand in hand, and spent the rest of the afternoon together exploring the surrounding area and exploring the store, the gift still untouched for now.

When he would eventually open it a few days later he found red leather bound copies of all his favorites with a J engraved into the cover. These were something he’d treasure for as long as he lived.

-----------

It was the last weekend before the Gala, all the outfits were done and fitted so mari had free time, and Jason had cleared the day to spend with his ‘girlfriend’, were the quotes still there? Were they something more now? Hopefully he’d find out tonight.

It was Roy and Diana’s idea. A dinner at an upscale restaurant, the Ocelot came to mind so he got reservations for the two of them. Diana insisted on covering it, and Roy made sure he had the perfect suit. To say Jason was nervous would be an understatement but it only got worse when Mari stepped out of her room in a floor length dress that made her look like a straight up greek goddess, she was stunning and that felt like an understatement. Her hair was lightly curled and was flowing down her back, a small golden flowers rested atop her head in a crown shape, he was glad Roy had helped him get a suite that made him look mature but he felt he still paled in comparison to her beauty.

They had a lovely dinner, they had gotten a table secluded in the back. It started with nervous and awkward conversation that quickly melted away into the easy conversation they usually shared, it was one of the nicest dates they had ever been on. It felt like a real date with no pressures to fake something, somehow this fake relationship had turned into a real true and meaningful one.

The ‘couple’ was so engrossed with each other they hadn’t noticed the spying eyes that watched from different areas of the restaurant. There were at least 16 different people watching their date if not more but if they noticed they didn’t care. The only thing on their mind was the person in front of them.

As they were leaving the dining room they had eaten in, Jason finally found the courage to ask, “Does this mean-” Mari cut him off with a kiss on the cheek and a tighter grip on his hand, “Absolutely Jay, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Small cheers could be heard in the room as they had left, it had been a success!

-----------

It was finally the night of the gala, Jason and his official girlfriend Marientte would be making their debut to the public. To say it was stressful would be putting it lightly, all the other outfits had been dropped off at the Wayne Manor the day before so that was at least taken care of. They had two hours before the Gala would start, so just over an hour to get ready. The apartment was a mess, making sure they had everything.

Jason’s suit was a dark crimson color with a midnight blue tie to tie it in with the rest of his family. The intricate beading and embroidery shined and became seen when the light hit it right, his hair was fluffy as usual but more kept than usual, the white streak pushed to the side with the rest of his hair. He looked like a proper gentleman thanks to his lady. She had a floor length ball gown that made her look like a princess. The bodice was the same midnight blue as his tie and had off the shoulder sleeves that were see through. The skirt that flowed from her his was made with the same crimson red with balck beading and embroidery in a variety of patterns. The apple blossoms were the most obvious and they traveled up her bodices in a blood red color that was made more clear in the right light, she wore black greek sandless underneath her dress and her hair was pinned to the side, a golden flower crown that Diana insisted she wore atop her head, if she looked like a goddess when they went to dinner, she was simply ethereal now, words could do no justice for how stunning she looked right now. To think she made this all by hand was beyond him.

Hand in hand they entered the ballroom, all eyes were on them. The camera flashes made them sparkle as they made their way down the carpet. Every reporter wanted to know everything about them and their outfits, this was the first time Jason had been seen at one of these actually looking happy and not coming with his family. It was the talk of everyone there.

“Thank the gods we finally made it inside,” Mari was already pulling him to a place she could get a drink. “You still need to introduce me properly to your family you know.”

“Thanks for reminding me, you know I’m sure you have met them all already.”

“That’s not the point Jay!” she hit his arm softly then picked up two glasses of champagne, “Cheers?”

“Cheers” they clinked their glasses and chugged them down. It was going to be quite the night.

They had finally made the rounds to all of his family and the important people of the gala and 2 hours in they had a moment to themselves.

“This is why I avoided these for so long.”

“I know right, to many fake pleasantries if you ask me.”

“At least we are in this together,” both said at the same time, causing them to burst into a fit of giggles.

“God I could kiss you right now.”

“Then why don’t you,” without giving Jason a chance to backtrack Marientte pulled him down to her and locked their lips in a passionate kiss. It was pure bliss, something they both needed and longed for and finally had. It felt right, like home. “Took you long enough,” Jason had a smirk as they pulled away, the applause didn't reach their ears as they pulled each other into another one this time less needy but soft, they felt whole in each others arms, this was what they had been missing for so long and now that they had it, they wouldn’t give it up for the world.

///

Asks are still open, don’t hesitate to ask!!

#my wrting #jasonette #fake dating au #follower give away #ask prompt #long post #i really like how this came out #not gonna lie #we be proud tonight #hit me up with more promots please #maribat

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years

Text

“There’s something tragic about you” // jhs

summary - after your usual model cancels on you for your art project, your best friend comes to the rescue.

pairing - jung hoseok x gender neutral!art student!reader

genre - fluff (read warnings tho)

word count - 1.7k

warning - nudity, like 1 swear word, kissing, the classic titantic reference

author’s note - this was a sentence starter from this prompt list and it was sent in by @mlkydrms not sure if you wanted angst but this is what came out of it. hope you like it!

If you told yourself this morning that your best friend was going to be modeling for one of your art projects, you wouldn’t have believed it. Why? Because your final had to include a nude model and no way was Jung Hoseok going to be nude in front of you.

Yet here you were, 4 pm in the afternoon in your living room waiting for Hoseok to exit the bathroom.

Originally, you were supposed to have Jin be your model. He has been your model partner for a few projects now, he was just effortless to draw, especially his details. Unfortunately, he got the stomach flu and needed to stay home to recuperate. You were no stranger when it came to cancellations and rain checks when working with models, however the project was due in the next three days. You stupidly put aside all your project to try and focus on your other courses, as did Seokjin. But now there was not enough time for you to fully pull together a full piece with Jin being sick.

This had led to you slowly freaking out, before you reached full blown panic mode, you called Hoseok. While he wasn’t always the best with words, he was a great listener and even the smallest thing from him made you smile. As you told him your predicament, the line went silent for a few moments.

“What if. . . I was your model?”

“Excuse me what?” You were stunned at his suggestion. “Hobi. . . it’s a nude painting I need to work on-”

“I know.” He stated, how he was speaking so calmly about this blew your mind. “Your project is due soon, and you need a model. I’m more than happy to help, unless you don’t want me to?”

You bit your lip in thought. He was right, you needed a model and needed one now. You could ask one of your other friends, but here was your best friend offering himself up on a silver plate. Letting out a sigh, you agreed. Hoseok said he’d be over in a bit so that gave you plenty of time to set up and prepare yourself to see. . .all of him.

Soon as he arrived though, there was this sort of air of awkwardness. You instructed him to go into the bathroom to strip and there was a towel for him to cover himself. He nodded and quickly excused himself. You could see it in the tips of his ears that he was just as nervous as you were about this, seeing him naked was one thing you really weren’t sure about. Because as cliche as it is, you held feelings for him. You already held back on your feelings in fear of it hurting your friendship, but how would seeing him naked impact your friendship.

The clearing of a throat pulled you from your thoughts, you turned your head to see Hoseok standing there, his golden chest revealed to the world and a white towel held tightly around his waist. You resisted the urge to drool as he shuffled into the living room to where you set up the makeshift studio.

“Uhh where do you want me?”

You quickly looked between him and the set up. “Sit on the box, back facing me.” You watched as he quickly discarded the towel around his waist and followed your instruction. “Bend your left leg, tuck your right underneath it. Right arm goes to the back and drape your left arm over your bent leg.” Hoseok assumed the pose but he still looked a bit stiff. “Hobi, you can back out if you want to. . .”

“I’m fine!” His voice squeaked. “I mean, I’m fine just. . .new experiences, right?”

You gave him a light smile and nodded. “For the both of us. Now relax your shoulders, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint.” That surely got a kick out of him, his shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “Stop moving!”

“Alright, alright.” He rolled his eyes at you. You could feel his stare as you walked over to your seat and picked up your canvas and charcoal. “You gonna draw me like one of your French girls?”

“Oh my god, how long have you been holding that in?” You rolled your eyes at the cheesy predictable joke. Hoseok just laughed at your reaction, you narrowed your eyes at him and held up the charcoal threateningly. “Sit still and don’t smile!”

Then you got to work, you eyed him carefully before making any strict movement on the canvas. With him being a dance major, it was no surprise to you that he was fit, but you never really did appreciate Hoseok muscle build before now; you were glad you were finally given the excuse. He wasn’t built too big, but there was a softness around each and every edge of him.

The two of you just sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being of your sketching. You started to feel his eyes on you as you were working on his torso. “Eyes off me, Hoseok.”

“So you get to eye me up while I have to look at the wall? How cruel,” he tsked, but he followed your order and looked back away. “You just look cute when your concentrating.”

You nearly snap your charcoal pencil in half. “C-come again?”

“You do this really cute thing where you stick your tongue out and scrunch your nose whenever you’re trying to work.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You could feel your face flush at his words. “You’re even cuter when you blush.”

“Where is this coming from, exactly?” You ask, trying your best to continue the piece and not fuck it up.

“I dunno, the fact I’m not wearing pants at the moment has strangely given me the nerve to flirt with you.” He looked at you from the side of his eyes and raised his eyebrows at you.

“And on that note, I’d like to ask if we could put this conversation on hold until you have your pants back on.” He nodded and the silence resumed.

The torso and arms finished, all you had left was his head. You squint your eyes as you try to find and take in every last detail of his face. The curve of his nose to the sharpness of his jawline to each loose strand of his dark locks. Hoseok really was a man to behold. While you didn’t have a good angle on his eyes, you focused really hard on them, trying to capture him completely.

“Aand, done.” You said, signing off the piece and dating it at the bottom. With the word, he relaxed his arms and let out a sigh. You watched as he leaned over to grab his towel to once again, cover his modesty. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back. “Sore?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how Jin-hyung does it.” He groaned, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and ease the ache.

“Yoga, and a long hot shower afterwards.” You say honestly. “He used to take them at my place but after the amount of projects, my water bill was going up so I had to kick him out.”

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad right now.” He noted.

“What? The long hot shower or me kicking you out?” You laugh at his strange statement.

“The hot shower,” he snarkily replied. “Can I see it?”

“Oh yeah sure,” canvas in hand, you take a few steps over to where Hoseok sat and hold out the canvas for him to see. He let out a silent ‘wow’ as he dragged his eyes over the drawing, drinking each and every detail. When his eyes came back up to his face, he had a puzzled look on his face.

“Can I ask something?”

“Why is something wrong?” You quickly looked back to the painting and tried to spot the possible mistake you made.

“No no no, there’s nothing wrong but, I just want to know what you like best about the drawing.” You watched as his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“Are you asking in general or because it’s you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Both possibly,” he laughed lightly at you. “What is it?”

“Hmm,” you take a good look at the picture. “Your expression. There’s something tragic about you, something beautifully tragic that just sort of draws me in.”

You look back up to him and he’s staring right back at you. “Beautifully tragic?”

“Shut up,” you place the canvas off to the side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he moved his head to try and look at you. “I want to know what the artist sees.”

You sigh and take both of your charcoal covered hands and place them on either side of his face. You look over his features, trying to find the words to describe what you mean. “Your eyes. Your eyes look like you’re in love, yet you hold back.” Slowly, Hoseok’s face came closer to yours. “Like you’re scared of what might happen if you. . .”

He was mere centimeters away from you now, his breath was ghosting over your lips. “If I. . . ?” His eyes were still locked with yours.

“If you let yourself love.” You finished; with his face still in your hands, you trace your thumb over his cheek bone.

Hoseok’s eyes dropped down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. With your permission, he closes the distance between you and presses his lips to yours. Your hands move from his cheeks to his hair, making purchase in his lock. His arms snake around your waist, trying to pull you closer, but due to the awkward angle, it quickly grew uncomfortable and you both pulled away.

“So, are we gonna talk about it now?” Hoseok laughed, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know, are you wearing pants?” You snorted, “I meant what I said, go put pants on and we can have that conversation.”

“I believe you threw out that reasoning when you kissed me,” he retorted, but he complied and sat up, ready to get changed. But the sudden movement caused him to groan, “Second thought, I might need a hot shower.”

“Oh my god, just go!” You laughed at him as he stiffly made his way back to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes as you heard the shower turn on and let out a sigh, maybe it was a good thing you had a nude assignment.

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

I don’t need you Chapter 2 : Freaking super hero

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. A tiny hint of jealous Dean.

Words : 3k

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

__________________________

2. FREAKING SUPER HERO

Dean’s Pov

All the lights. This apartment is big, and its windows are too. I look at the regular shadows of the metallic lines of the windows that divide her bedroom door into bended squares.

She offered us to stay at her place, opened the sofa bed, and disappeared behind that door. I just can’t sleep, again. I try to imagine I’m in my bedroom in the bunker, or on Baby’s backseat, but everything is so new to me here. I lost my bearings.

I stare around, my eyes wide open, now used to the weak darkness. Is it possible that she’s just better than us ? Like more up-to-date, trained by the cruelty of huge cities ? How can she do this alone ?

The walls are covered in those research papers, and, after a while, in the middle of this organized mess, my own name catches my eyes.

I get up in silence, trying not to make the mattress move too much, to let my brother sleep. Is it California that made him so insensible to lights and noises at night ? Maybe…

“Dean Winchester is a demon.” I frown, it’s a printing of a mail she got from someone called thathunter87, she hung it here and made a red line between that and a stolen page of a grimoire about demon cure. Why ?

On the table under all those articles and notes on the wall, a long desk, covered in books, notebooks and folders. It’s like she had hundreds of hunter journals, one for each subject.

Discreetly going through them, I find one called “Winchesters” and a shiver runs down my spine but the thought attached to it never reaches my brain. I open it. There are no photos, just mails from thathunter87 and pages of those Supernatural stupid books.

My eyes widen suddenly, and my heart misses a beat. Next to pieces of the books and a sketch of our anti-possession tattoo scribbled like she was thinking hard, a few words : Was John abusive to Dean ?

“Trouble sleeping ?” a whisper makes me jump.

I turn and my breath gets caught in my throat.

She’s standing in the door frame, an oversized Hocus Pocus t-shirt hiding her upper thighs, and nothing covering her legs.

She looks so different now. Almost… cute. Her worn out t-shirt falling childishly like thin drape on her body, her face freed from any makeup and her hair going in every directions. I can’t help but imagine a morning after…

She walks to me, pushing her messy hair out of her face. And I’m so caught up in this vision that I forget to hide what I was looking at.

“Oh… I’m sorry” she murmurs, taking the notebook out of my hands. “I know it’s not my business.”

I have no idea what to answer despite the thousands questions flying in my skull, and just keep searching her face, loudly cursing at myself in my head.

“How do you know us ?” I finally say low, my pupils dilating at the ray of the night light hitting her collarbone and I try to fight the electric feeling giving me goosebumps.

“Well, the Supernatural books saved my life” her whisper feels like her nails were grazing my back.

“How ?” I dare, my curiosity getting the best of me.

She chuckles but a shadow crosses her face, a shadow of fear and pain, something weak and lonely, everything she usually hides so well.

“Dark days… I… I lived in the street a long time ago” she looks down. “I needed to believe in heroes I guess.”

Her smile is soft and kind for a second, making me almost believe I could take her in my arms, like an old friend, like a lover. But she sighs, and it’s like she had breathe out everything soft, her eyes become stern and her neck straighten.

“Jimmy doesn’t whine too much ?” she asks, pointing at the laundry room with her chin.

“Not a sound” I assure her, and she smiles dangerously.

“I threatened him a lot.”

Reader’s Pov

I walk to the laundry and open the door.

“Ah good you’re there” Jimmy starts right away, making the chair creak. “I-…”

But I cut him.

“One more word and you will regret it, Jimmy. Remember what I said : If my guests sleep bad because of you, I cut your cock, to see if it grows back on an immortal.”

I close the door and give Dean a little corner smile.

Sam grunts and turn in the sofa, taking all the cover with him. I chuckle and take a glass of water from the kitchen sink.

“Sleep, Dean, tomorrow will be a long day” I murmur walking back to my room, hoping my own thoughts will stop harassing me.

*******

I get up and grab my clothes, lazily walking to the bathroom. On my way to it, my eyes glance at the brothers on my sofa, Dean is still not sleeping.

He looks at me in silence, his piercing eyes following me when I cross the room, but I don’t say a word to him. I know he’s familiar with nightmares, he would hear it in my voice.

Having them here somehow brought bad memories. It’s a paradox : They saved me from very bad moments in my life, but meeting them makes me think a lot about those dark times, and since I know they’re in town, my own demons are screaming at me. Or maybe knowing I will see Holloway tonight…

I enter the bathroom and put my clothes on the chair next to the shower. I have to be prepared. In the shower I repeat my plan in my head. I have nothing left to lose, so nothing can end worse than it already is. If I feed, if I become a vampire, I know the Winchesters will end me, and I would finally die peacefully, knowing at least I tried. If I miss Holloway, I will have him next time… If I just die, well it will be over, at last.

Sam and Dean will try to talk me out of it, I know that, and I’ll have to be very firm, because they can’t make that mission fail. There was a time when I needed heroes, now I don’t.

The shower turns cold again, ripping me out of my thoughts, I grunt and rinse quickly under the familiar freezing jet.

Naked, I look at the mirror, using the sight of my scars to focus my anger. This is the cut they made on me to taste my blood, after they killed my family… my finger graze the little straight scar on my arm ; this one is the knife cut I got from that rape attempt when I was in the streets. This is fangs, I hate this one.

Then the transformation starts.

Like every day, I put on my mask : The outfit I use to remember who I am, and to forget who I was.

I feel like putting on an armor the second I start to draw my eye-liner cat’s eye line. And by the time I tighten the ribbons of my corset hard, nothing in me is vulnerable anymore. My back is straight and held, my eyes are dark…

I’m going to kill them all.

Dean’s Pov

She comes out of the bathroom, dressed like that warrior she is, tough and sexy, transformed, unrecognizable, like a freaking super hero.

But I will never forget the cute girl I saw last night.

“I have coffee” she says when Sam sits up, looking around like he was wondering for a second where he was. “And I can make eggs, I don’t want my side kicks to be hungry.”

Her voice sounds slightly different on the word “hungry” and, knowing she lived in the street, I guess she knows what truly hungry is…

I nod and Sam thank her but she’s already in the kitchen. I get up, joining her behind the counter to help her with anything she would need. The truth is, I just want to be around.

I notice a man big jacket on a chair and wonder who she could invite here, despite hunters. Is she really alone ? Does she have friends ? Lovers ?...

“I have no sugar” she states sternly.

And once again, I’m mute, taking the mug she hands me to break eggs in an old pan.

Suddenly, the walls tremble and the power goes off, the only light she had turn on going off, and the few device she has dying. She sighs but keeps cooking on her gas stove like it was nothing.

“Your stomach is noisy” she chuckles.

“Sorry” I mumble, making her raise an eyebrow.

She puts the plates on her coffee table with two cups of coffee, going back to the kitchen to take a mug for herself. Only two plates.

“You don’t eat ?” Sam asks.

“I don’t like eggs” she shrugs. “And I have nothing else, I’ll buy something later.”

“I can go to buy you something” I state, really uncomfortable with her not eating with us.

“Eat, Dean. I can handle myself.”

A knock on the door makes Sam and I frown.

Keeping her coffee cup in her hand, she grabs her gun, puts it in her belt in her back, and walks to the door. Sam and I get up, even if we can’t see the main door from here, we’re ready to fight.

“Hey Y/n. Was it the Winchesters ?” a man voice greets her.

Y/n…

“Yeah. There are no more eggs, I gave them the ones you bought” she answers.

“You feed them now ?” the man mocks. “I bought you a chocolate muffin.”

Why does that annoys me ?

She appears in the room again, followed by this guy, Joe, the bartender. He’s a very tall –Sammy tall- strong guy with long blond hair in a bun. Freaking hipster.

When he sees us, he frowns, and look at her like she was insane.

“What are they doing here ?” he asks, making my brother raise his eyebrows at his rudeness. “Wait, Y/n, did they sleep here ?”

“I invited them” she shrugs, sitting to unwrap her chocolate muffin. “Sam, Dean, this is Joe. Joe, bla bla.”

I can’t help smiling at her attitude, but Joe doesn’t. It’s like he didn’t want us to be here, like he was threatened by us somehow… And it suddenly hits me. The chocolate muffin, the things he “forgets” at her place, the worry.

He’s in love with her.

“I have to buy a few things for tonight” she states, ripping a little part of the muffin between her fingers, to slip it between her lips, licking her index a little when chocolate stick on her skin.

“Do you want me to come with you ?” Joe immediately says and I have to blink to not roll my eyes.

“No” she states, then she turns to Sam. “You already made the cure for your brother, I heard.”

“Y-yeah” Sam hesitates. “But are you sure…”

“Then” she cuts him. “Could you prepare it while I’m out ? I already have all the ingredients… And Jimmy.”

“What are you talking about Y/n ? You’re not doing it ? Tell me you’re not doing it.” Joe asks, looking around and she sighs, getting up.

“Okay listen” she states. “All of you. If you have something to say about my plan, you can walk out the door now. I can do this alone. I don’t need you.”

She puts the rest of the muffin in Joe’s hands and take her coat.

“I’ll be here in a few hours, don’t kill Jimmy accidentally with day light, and don’t, well… I don’t know, be stupid. Sam, the ingredients are on the sill, and if you don’t want to do the cure, just… Okay” she says before she leaves, a silence falling on us.

*******

I don’t like Joe, the guy stayed with us for no reason, like he wanted to survey us.

Sam is looking in the box, trying to find a bowl to mix them. And the bartender and I are left practically staring at each other.

“Did you guys convinced her it was a good idea ?” he finally speaks.

“What do you mean ?” I grunt. “Of course not ! This is a terrible idea. I should go, not her.”

Sam lifts his head form the bowl and looks at me with a disapproving frown.

“She will kill you” Joe chuckles darkly. “You have no idea how bad she needs to get them, you have no idea what she’s been through.”

“Well, I won’t let her get killed by those freaks” I state.

“Dean…” my brother speaks. “She knows them way better than we do, this is her plan, her hunt. I think she knows what she’s doing, and you’ve seen her… She’s a great hunter.”

I sit down, sighing, rubbing my face with both hands. Am I supposed to stay there, watching her run to her death ?

Reader’s Pov

I take another sip of whiskey, letting the smooth notes of blues wrap me in the comfortable atmosphere of the small bar. I knew Joe would stay with them, and looking behind the bar, I give his colleague a little smile.

I sigh with the little bottle in my hand, making the thick poisonous liquid redden the sides of the glass.

I can’t go back to my apartment. They must already be making plans to force me to stay home. I know them. In a way I Know the three of them.

Joe is my friend, and I know he thinks we should be more than that, those ideas of “saving” me spoiling his mind for years, like I was some kind of precious bird with broken wings.

I am not.

I’m not broken or damaged. I’m just furious, a storm of rage boiling in my veins. And he can keep his fairy tales for him. Unconditional love is not going to save me. I told him that, and refusing any kind of proximity with him, I think I made it very clear. But he will always try to save me.

And the Winchesters… They are heroes. Self-sacrifice is burned in their genes. They are as determined to protect everyone they meet, as I am to kill Holloway.

The early winter night is announcing its rise with a pink ink in the city sky. I finish my glass and take my phone.

Did Sam prepare the cure ? I send to Joe.

I get up and walk to the bathroom to check my look on the mirror. Arranging my hair, I practice my smile. It has to be innocent, charming and seductive.

He did. We have to ad Jimmy’s blood but only once you’re turned. Oh God, please don’t do that. Why didn’t you come back ? Where are you ? The night is almost there, and the Winchesters are sneaky. I stayed with them to make sure they don’t rummage through your stuff, but they’re asking questions. Why did you let them stay at your apartment in the first place ? Joe answers in four messages in a row.

Because I don’t really care.

I put money on the counter and greet the woman behind it, getting out.

Dead man’s blood capsules in my purse, my vampire killing knife in my boot, another thin slightly longer blade in back along my spine. The magical burning oil in its little flask. That’s all I can take with me. I stuff my purse with lipsticks, random keys, foundation powder and other useless things, in case someone looked into it.

I will drop my guns and other weapons in the trash cans outside the club. I already spent two hours looking at it to be prepared. I know every entrances.

It’s time.

I walk to the alley I slept in so many nights. I don’t know why I chose to do it here, probably because I so often thought I would die here. It’s smaller than I remember, darker too.

On the wall, the drawing I had made, the anti-possession tattoo my heroes wore in their skin. I was sure it would protect me from my own demons, I was so sure it would. I used to put my hand on it when hunger made me so weak I couldn’t stand, when cold was biting my skin ; and when despair was beating me up, telling myself it would make me go through the night.

At least I thought it helped. The truth is, I was alone, and I was the only one fighting all this, the only one that could help me.

I put my finger on it.

“I met the Winchesters” I whisper to the girl I was, to the childhood that died here, wishing I could hear that in the past. “They’re even more handsome than you thought” I half smile, fighting the tears. “But they are not going to save you. You are. It ends tonight.”

Taking the little bottle in my hand, I close my eyes for a second. I hate vampires. I have to focus on that, I have to be strong, and merciless.

If I become a vampire for good. They have to kill me. I send Joe.

Then I open the flask and drink it in one go.

Dean’s Pov

“She answered !” Joe exclaims, getting up to read her long-awaited text.

When he frowns, my heart starts to beat faster. She never came back and now night is here. I’m going nuts, I can’t just stay on this stupid couch.

“She…” the bartender says, but he doesn’t finish, just showing us the text.

Sam runs to the laundry door and opens it.

“Did she take your blood ?” he almost yells and my pupils dilate.

When the vampire chuckles darkly, Sam turns to us.

She’s already gone.

________________________

***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @mogaruke @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @hawaiianohana31 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @alanegaming @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid @hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @fangirlxwritesx67 @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91

I don’t need you tags : @charmed-asylum

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean x reader #spn dean x reader #Smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #fluff #angst #jay-and-dean

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hermionemonica · 4 years

Text

Cause I knew I was in love with you (when we sat in silence): Marichat May 2020 - Day 14

AO3 | For the @marichatmay

Collab with @lalunaoscura

DAY 1 | <-13 | 14 | 15->

Day 14 — Chocolate

Marinette shut her closet door and turned to look at Chat, who was rolling up some fabric.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” She asked him.

“I guess,” he shrugged his shoulders, “why not?”

“What kind do you like?” She took one of his arms and put it around herself. “I personally prefer milk chocolate, because I have got a sweet tooth.”

Chat scratched the back of his head, “I don't really know?”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

“Actually I have never had hot chocolate.” He was a little awkward admitting it.

“Wait, what?” Marinette straightened up and let Chat’s arm drop from around her shoulder. “Are you saying you have never tasted hot chocolate in your life? Not even once?”

Chat Noir nodded.

“Oh my God, that is so wrong!” She exclaimed. “We have to set it right at once! Are cats even allowed to drink hot chocolate?”

“I am not a real cat.”

“Right.”

“Princess, look at me!” He grabbed her wrists in both his hands. “Don't freak out, please!”

“But I don't want to ruin your first time!”

Chat blushed furiously at the double-entendre. Only then did Marinette realise what she had said. Her eyes widened and she let out a little squeak.

“I swear I didn't mean it that way!” She spoke in a high-pitched voice.

“I know, Princess.” Her cuteness made him giggle.

“Chat Noir,” she whined, “I don't even know what type of chocolate you like.”

“I promise you,” he held her hands in his and lifted them, “I will love anything my Princess will make for me.”

Now it was Marinette's turn to blush and giggle.

“At least tell me whether you like sweet, bitter, spicy or minty?”

“Make it like how you think about me.”

Marinette scrunched up her nose as she seemed to analyse Chat Noir's entire personality.

“Got it!” She exclaimed after a few moments.

“Tell me,” Chat pleaded.

“No,” she declared, “I want it to be a surprise!”

She turned away towards the trapdoor. Before she exited through it, she turned back to look one more time. “Don’t get up to any mischief while I am gone, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good kitty.” She gave him a smile before leaving.

Chat Noir sat down on the floor, looking around the room. At first glance, it'd seem like there wasn't much to see. But the harder you looked, the more details you would spot. He had been here so many times already, and yet there was so much of this little room that he had not explored. How Marinette managed to fit so much into such a small space while still making it look not messy was beyond him.

That was why he could not keep still for more than twenty seconds.

He went snooping around her chaise lounge, where a few rolls of fabric and a heap of clothes were placed beside it. He felt the fabric, it was soft. Adrien had been forced to wear uncomfortable, stiff clothes more often than he liked, which was why he chose to wear casual clothes more often. It was also the reason why he had a particular love for soft fabrics. He sniffed the pile of clothes, and a smell that was distinctly Marinette's calmed his olfactory senses.

His instincts took him to Marinette's desk next. Textbooks and notebooks were arranged in a neat pile. Pens, pencils, brushes and other stationary were stuffed into two cups. As he looked over the soft pink surface of the table-top, his eyes fell on the drawer. The corner of a page stuck out of it. He opened the drawer, intending to place the paper inside properly.

But he stopped when he noticed what was on that paper.

It was a sketch of himself. Chat Noir, that is. It was not very detailed, more like a quick doodle. Underneath was written in feminine capital letters “CHAT NOIR". The “NOIR" was darkened to the point that there were dents on the paper, clearly from tracing the letters over and over again.

Chat was confused. What exactly was that all about?

As he kept looking at the paper, he spotted a scribble on the side which had been struck through multiple times so that the original thing was almost illegible. But that piqued his interest, and he was not going to let go until he had made it out.

Was it-? He could make out a “CHAT" and a “B" right next to it.

He held up the paper against the light. It was “BLANC".

Chat Blanc?

What was that?

He did not have much time to think though, because he heard Marinette coming through the trapdoor. True, he could have hidden the paper away and pretended that nothing happened. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“What are you doing there, kitty?” Marinette came up behind him and placed two steaming mugs on top of the desk.

“I was just looking around, and-” he held up the paper, “-what is this Princess?”

It was probably a good thing that Marinette had already put the mugs down, or else, she would have surely dropped them and made a mess of the floor. Because of the way her eyes widened and her body stiffened, it wasn’t difficult to say that she was totally shocked.

“Wh- where did you get that?” She swooped in to grab the paper but Chat was too fast for her. “Give it to me!”

“Not before you tell me what this is about.” He took complete advantage of his height as he held the paper high above his head, where Marinette could not reach it. “Why have you traced and retraced the letters of NOIR over and over?”

“I will tell you but first give me back my paper!”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, now give it already!”

Chat relented and handed the paper back to her. “Now tell me.”

Marinette realised that he would not let it go unless he got an answer. “It’s because,” she tried to come up with an excuse, “because I kept getting the spelling wrong! Yes, the spelling! So I traced over the words so that it gets embedded into my memory!”

“Oh.” Something about Marinette’s words seemed off. The way her eyebrows twitched and her hands shook, he was worried about her. That was why he refrained from asking further about the ‘Chat Blanc’.

“So,” he sniffed around the two mugs as Marinette put the paper away in her closet, “which one of these sweet-smelling chocolates is mine?”

He was trying hard to change the topic, and Marinette could understand that. “The black one,” she called out, “but don’t start before I come!”

“Oh my God, this smells so good!” Chat Noir took a long whiff of his mug. “What did you put in it?”

“You’ll see.” Marinette arrived holding a DVD in her hand. “Alright so,” she announced, “who wants to watch Tangled with me?”

“Me!” Chat noir leaped up with his hand raised, earning a giggle from Marinette.

“Come on over here, then!” She pulled both chairs in front of her computer.

Chat looked between the computer and her chaise lounge. “Can’t we,” he spoke in a little voice, “move the chaise over to the computer so that we can lounge while we watch?”

“No can do, kitty!” Marinette assumed a stern expression on her face, although the corners of her lips tugged into a little smile. “There will be no moving around in my room.” Chat Noir’s shoulders drooped at her words. “But, what if we put one chair away and I sit on your lap?”

“Yes!” Chat Noir visibly lit up at the offer. That boy was a sucker for cuddles. So was Marinette actually, she could never have enough of Chat’s warm, cozy cuddles.

“Can you bring over the mugs without spilling them?”

“Yup!” Chat was actually doing a better job than her at effortlessly balancing the mugs in his hands. He handed the pink mug to Marinette. “Now, cuddle time?”

Marinette blushed as she sat down on Chat's lap. As he wrapped an arm around her, Marinette mumbled, “I'm not crushing your legs, am I?”

“Nah,” Chat shrugged. “You weigh as light as a feather to me.”

Marinette giggled as Chat nuzzled his face into her neck. “Stop or I'll spill my chocolate!”

Chat listened to her for once. As Marinette rested her head against his shoulder, he took a sip out of his mug.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, “This tastes so amazing! What did you put in it?”

“Cardamom,” Marinette smirked. “For that's how I think of you: sweet with a spicy flavour.”

Chat's lips slowly curved into a huge grin. “I see,” he said with a smirk.

Marinette felt her heart beat faster at the way his eyes looked. Did she cross a line at the “spicy" comment? But when Chat Noir did not bring it up again, she finally relaxed.

Halfway through the movie, Chat Noir looked down and saw that Marinette had fallen asleep in his lap, her mouth slightly open. He smiled. Quietly turning off her computer, he picked her up in his arms and carried her away to her bed.

As he settled down into the bed beside her, he wondered what Chat Blanc meant? And what was the real reason behind that doodle? There were a lot of questions in his mind, but he knew he could not get the answers from the one person who could give them to him. So the only way was to bury them away.

But when Marinette turned her face towards him, her breath smelling faintly of chocolate, he could not stop a smile from coming to his lips. This girl was trying so hard to hide all her secrets and hold back all of her fears. The least he could do was let her forget them as long as he was with her. If talking about them upset her, he would not ask unless she wanted to tell him by herself.

He slowly drifted to sleep, surrounded by the smell of chocolate and Marinette’s body wash, wrapped in Marinette’s arms and legs, and that was the closest to Heaven he had ever felt.

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2020 #day 14: chocolate #collaboration #lalunaoscura #cause i knew i was in love with you (when we sat in silence)#marichat #ml fanfic #my fic

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petalsbloomed-a · 3 years

Text

itaru talks about noah - part 1.

1. what’s the strangest/weirdest thing mun has watched on youtube? you know those raunchy parodies of rap songs and the versions where people are quite literally screaming the lyrics of songs? yeah, he watches that stuff a lot.

2. what’s the strangest/weirdest movie the mun has watched? i don’t know if he’s watched any movies that have been known for being strange, but a lot of the horror stuff he finds can get pretty creepy at times.

3. what’s your mun do when they become sad? do they hide it or talk about it? it really depends. most of the time, i think he hides it at first and then opens up when things start to go really wrong. it’s probably because he doesn’t want to feel like a burden.

4. how long does the mun stay upset for? again, it really depends on the issue. he does struggle with really bad mental health, so it’s possible for something to weigh him down for quite a while. i think a lot of it has to do with his willingness to communicate with others.

5. what’s your opinion of the mun’s fashion sense? basic bitch. well, more basic than me, but at times he does like to mix it up a lot and put jewelry together with a top that just...don’t naturally fit. i mean, have you seen the earrings he wears to class?

6. is the mun prone to mood swings? oh, very much so. one moment he’ll be so down to write, being all bubbly and completely running his mouth about the things he likes, the next he’ll get frustrated and upset and go to watch some funny shit on youtube or listen to music to hopefully help to stabilize his mood.

7. what was the strangest thing the mun has done that made the muse confused? doing kpop dances in the middle of his school’s hallway. that’s all i’m going to say.

8. does the mun like to shitpost/make funny posts a lot? he doesn’t shitpost a ton over here, but on his anime blog, i swear, sometimes the shit that he thinks of and comes out of his mouth is so strange that it’s just funny.

9. has the mun ever scared the muse? not in any particular way that comes to my mind immediately.

10. what about the mun does the muse find annoying or bothersome? sometimes he just can’t stop talking. i can never tell if it’s because of his ADHD or if he’s just excited about something, but sometimes he just completely interrupts my peace and quiet seemingly out of nowhere.

11. do you like the backstory your mun gave you? he didn’t really give me a backstory; he adheres to what my creators did for me. but he did give my sister a pretty nice name.

12. is mun a social butterfly or a loner? he’s a pretty social person, but he does have his moments. he likes to keep his distance, even though sometimes it’s hard for him to tell when he should be less energetic or give someone their space.

13. did you once not like your mun? if so, why? i don’t think i’ve ever actively disliked noah. he can be a bit obnoxious at times, but he’s a pretty cool dude.

14. do you wish your mun was more open to those around them? in real life and on tumblr? he’s pretty open with people in real life, but who am i to criticize him or even give him advice on the matter? i struggle with being open about who i am myself, so i don’t think it’s appropriate for me to judge him.

15. does your mun draw or write? if so, what work are they most proud of? he writes a lot and he does have some experience with art, but most of his focus goes into the things he writes. it’s hard to say what he’s most proud of, because he always describes his works as ‘short, sweet, and mindless,’ but i do enjoy whatever angsty stuff he writes. he says he’s not good with angst, but sometimes when i read his angst fics i can really get the sense of some things he may be struggling with in his unconscious. some of the things he writes just roll off the tongue, and in such a beautiful manner.

16. how long does it take your mun to draw/write a piece of work? it really depends on what he’s doing. an art piece, even a small sketch, can take him up to an hour, but his fics can usually take him between thirty minutes to two hours. his short and soft fics he usually spends about half an hour on, but his longer ones, like his angst and relationship fics, he can spend up to two hours on.

17. what other social websites does your mun use? other than tumblr, he’s probably most active on his anime twitter account as well as some discord servers he’s on, but he also has a facebook, instagram, ao3, and sparingly uses deviantart, reddit, pinterest, soundcloud, twitch, quotev, and wattpad.

18. who are the first 3 people the mun thinks about when asked for blog recommendations? obviously, the mun is a bit biased, so he’s gonna first off recommend his best friend’s blog orang3lover. they post a lot of cute memes and social stuff, and they follow each other on their main blogs. here in the tumblr rpc, he’s really been enjoying writing and interacting with demontragedy’s chikage, aka my lovely boyfriend, and gloomyheart10′s banri, who is the bane of my existence but miraculously still considered to be my best friend.

19. how many people are in your mun’s close-knit circle? he has a few friend circles actually. the one he interacts with the most would probably be his friend group from high school, but he also has a lot of friends, less of a circle, that he talks with a lot and hangs out with in college. this college friend group all consists of music majors, so he feels really at home with them. he does also have a few small friend groups online, but they’re pretty sparse and don’t have as many people as his irl friend groups.

20. how does the mun feel about their blog/blogs? i get the sense that he’s really happy with the blog he’s set up here in the tumblr rpc, but he has mentioned that with his personal blogs he wants to be a bit more creative about the content that he releases. his main blog is like 99% reblogs, so he wants to think about how he can release more original content that will attract more people to his corner of the internet.

21. what ask meme does your muse like the most? i don’t think he has a specific one, but he does like to reblog a lot of fluff-based sentence starters.

#itaru: ic #munday

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deathandhumanresources · 3 years

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Chapter 2 - Administrative and Clerical

As the pages of my book filled, progress on “The Plan” reached a fever pitch. Father’s groundwork was impressive when it was only sketches and doodles but the first draft of all Creation turned out to be more wondrous than any of us could imagine. The Djinn’s constructs were massive in their execution and the Angel’s philosophical designs imbued every structural cell with Father’s purpose. Each day, I grew busier processing the requests for names from every Angel working in the “Living Things” department. As the work grew more complex, with weirder and more diverse ideas arriving for my designation every day, I became more confident in my abilities. Before long, news of my efficiency reached the Upper Angelarium, where the Archangels gathered.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?” I asked the Cherub called Ornias as he held his creation towards me. “This one seems like plagiarism to me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Ornias replied, though I couldn’t help but hear a chiding in his voice.

“I mean you stole this design from other Angels. I think I’ve seen this tail before. I’ve definitely seen this bill...”

“I may have taken inspiration from a few of my fellow spirits but this design is an original.” The fat Angel’s snorting face puckered into a look of disingenuous offense.

“It looks like you just mashed five other animals together!” I grabbed the design by its webbed flippers. The thing turned its duckish, rattish head towards me and stared with curiosity. I placed it on the ground where it scurried behind Ornias’ rounded form. I apprehensively asked, “Is this a joke?”

“A joke?” Ornias spat, “Does creation seem funny to you?” In truth, neither of us knew if Creation sounded funny because neither of us fully understood the concept yet.

“Is it mammal or bird?” I probed, attempting to refocus the conversation.

“Yes.” Ornias replied with so much indifference, that I wanted to reak wrath on the Angel’s stupid face.

“I’m truly at a loss, Ornias. Perhaps you have a suggestion?”

“Well, I was sort of thinking we could call it a,” he choked as if stifling a laugh, “a Platypus?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Alright, alright!” Ornias guffawed as he reached forward and clucked me on my back with his palm. “Look, I somehow got this one past the Approval Department and all I need is a name to make it official. Wouldn’t it be the best if this thing ended up crawling around with all the other animals?

“Well,” I considered, “I don’t know...” In truth, looking at the creature made me understand comedy a little bit more. And it was cute.

“What do you say, old pal?” Ornias thrust his right hand forward in a gesture that all Angels agreed meant “mutuality.”

“We’ve never met before today, Ornias.” I abstained from returning the gesture.

“Think about it.” The Cherub plucked his weird design up from the ground and turned to leave. As they flew away, the creature wriggled in Ornias’ grasp to look at me again. I smiled and it shook, startled, before burrowing into hiding in the Angel’s arms.

“Erm... next!” I called to my constantly growing queue. I had set up my operations in a vacant cubelike room of the lower Angelarium. When I found the room, it invoked a feeling as though I had meant to be there all along. Inside the cube was a chair for me to sit and a desk for me to place my book. From the room, I allowed one Angel at a time to enter and present their creation to name. As always, the Angels queued naturally and rarely made a fuss.

The next Angel in line entered at my call and I was surprised to see that it was a Principality. For those of you not well versed in Angelic Hierarchy, the Principalities are the assistants to the other Choirs of Angels. They deliver messages and perform tasks for Angels too busy to complete those tasks themselves. They are the delegates and were designed by Father to be pushed around without much fuss.

This Principality had hair as gold as wheat (a plant designed just days prior) and skin the color of olives (a plant that hadn’t been designed yet but one I’m referencing retroactively.) Her physique was rigid and she towered over the other Angels in the queue behind her. Her wings were so soft that they resembled clouds in the distance. Her expression was one of annoyance, brought on by having to wait in a queue when there were other tasks at hand.

“Hi there!” I greeted, somewhat fearfully. “I did not know Principalities were invited to create for ‘The Plan!’”

“I am Eremiel.” the Angel interjected, “I am not here on Creation business.”

“Ah.” I said “Well I am afraid that I am in the middle of naming every single living creature. Is there something I can help you with?”

Eremiel reached into a pouch slung around her bony shoulder. She produced a page of parchment that she began to hold out to me. Before I could take it, she snatched it back.

“Were you designed to be able to read?” She asked dryly.

“I have the gift of all languages.” I replied, confused, bemused, and anxious for what news Heaven had for me now.

“Good.” The Principality unceremoniously dropped the parchment on my desk. The page slid across the surface and landed in my lap.

“They’ll see you after you’ve finished your duties for the day.” Eremiel spoke with vexation as she left the room. On her way out she bumped the next Angel in line, an impossibly beautiful spirit with a crown of light and holding a round rodent with enormous ears. Before the offended Angel could protest, Eremiel’s eyes widened and she gave a look that clearly said “Get out of my way or you and the rat will be broken for all of eternity.” The beautiful Angel cowered and Eremiel launched off into the higher Angelarium.

I unravelled the parchment in my lap and read the message within:

TO AZRAEL, ANGEL OF NAMES

YOUR PRESENCE IS DEMANDED

TO DISCUSS IMPORTANT MATTERS

REGARDING YOUR FUNCTION AND PURPOSE

YOU ARE TO REPORT TO THE HALL OF THE ARCHANGELS

FOR JUDGMENT

AS SOON AS YOUR DUTIES FOR THE DAY ARE COMPLETE

BE PROMPT

SINCERELY,

GABRIEL, ARCHANGEL AND CHIEF MESSENGER

“Urp...” Was all I could say as I let the parchment roll up and sway back and forth on my desk. I felt my face go pale. I don’t know how long I sat, silent and staring, before I heard a meek “Ahem” beyond my doorway. It was the beautiful Angel and its creation.

“Oh, er, next!” I called.

The Hall of Archangels stood at the top of the third sphere of the Angelarium. My work was mostly clerical so I hung around the bottom of the third sphere. The upper sphere was for Archangels and Principalities. Beyond the third sphere was the second sphere. That place was the work area of the middle management Angels: the Powers, the Virtues, and the Dominions. Above the second sphere was the first sphere, the upper management sphere. The first sphere was where the Seraphim, the Cherubim, and the Thrones worked closely with Father on “The Plan’s” most important projects. Above the spheres sat Father’s throne, where he shined his radiance on all Angels below him.

I nervously clutched my parchment of invitation as I approached the entranceway to the Hall. The landing for the upper sphere was paved with bricks carved from a porous grey stone that felt soft under my feet. Rounded outcroppings of the stone jutted from the walkway in symmetrical pairs leading from the landing and into the upper sphere. Prototypes for the aforementioned flowers adorned the outcroppings in a manner I found aesthetically pleasing. A massive silver arch marked the entry to the halls. Great, angled runes were carved deeply into the arch, spelling in a now-forgotten language, “DILIGENCE, VIGILANCE, GLORY.”

The landing was bustling as Angels of all different Choirs launched and disembarked to and from the Heavens. Each spirit possessed a face of focused officiousness as they passed by and around each other on the walkway. Many of them held stacks of paperwork and they would bump gracelessly into one another, mumbling indifferent swears before rebalancing and continuing on. None of the Angels offered so much as a wayward glance at me as I shuffled uncomfortably towards the archway. I felt so out of place.

When I bypassed the arch and into the Hall, I looked above to see the walls and ceiling had been carved of the same soft, grey stone and painted with a mural. The art of the hallway depicted the Heavens, complete with all manner of Angel flying and smiling as they worked at the building blocks of Creation with hammers and chisels. A rendering of Father sat on his throne at the apex of the curved ceiling, his smile was the biggest. In his left hand, he held a sash decorated with the same runic font as the silver archway. The text read “PERFECTION.” In his right hand, he held a strange blue orb that I recognized as the initial design for “The Plan.” I did not notice it at the time, but the Djinn were not pictured in the mural at all.

I came to a series of turnstiles preceded by booths with Angels inside. I watched as visitors approached, spoke briefly with the booth Angels, and pressed past the turnstiles before resuming into the hallway. I puffed up my chest and attempted to imitate the zeal of the patrons around me. I approached a booth on the far end of the vestibule and stepped toward the turnstile.

“What’s your business?” the bored looking booth Angel asked blandly.

“Oh, er...” I fumbled with the roll of parchment at my side before passing it to the turnstile guardian.

“Mmm, yes.” He unrolled the note and studied it with nonchalance. I rocked from side to side on my heels for an awkward moment before he continued. “You are scheduled with Gabriel in the Western Atrium. Do you know where you’re going?”

“I’m afraid not.” I meeped.

“Oh.” The Angel curled his upper lip, “A tourist.” He hefted from his seat with a grunt of vexation and leaned over his booth towards me. He reached a slender arm past my neck in a manner meant to lead my gaze. “See the wisp of red cirrus cloud that stretches along the wall mural?” He did not wait for me to answer. “Follow that ‘round the rightmost corner and straight along until you reach the double doors labelled ‘Virtue and Punctuality.’ You’ll find the Chief Messenger’s office within.��

“Alright.” I murmured as I squinted towards the mural. I did not see red cirrus clouds. I turned back to the booth Angel to see he was regarding me with furrowed eyebrows.

“You can go along.” He chastised. With a nod of his head, he signalled to a line of equally annoyed Angels behind me.

“Oh.” I said and pressed at the turnstile. It did not move at first so I shuffled uncomfortably, trying and failing to look like I knew what I was doing. Finally, the arm loosened and I tumbled forward, almost falling to the floor. I pulled my wings around me in embarrassment and hustled into the reconvening crowd beyond the gate. I felt overwhelmed by the roaming crowd and was instinctively drawn to the wall and out of the way of the bustle. I inspected the mural for the wisp of red cloud described by the booth Angel. At first, I found no evidence of such cirrus and I felt a panic rise inside me. After a moment, I noticed a streak of cloud, more pink than red, cast behind the drama of the painting and across the cosmos. I followed the path around the corner into a straightaway that appeared to go on indefinitely. The hall had many pairs of doors across from each other on either side of the walkway. As I strolled passed, I couldn’t shake the curiosity to open one of these doors and look inside.

The red cirrus on the wall lifted onto the ceiling of the hallway and led to an extension of the main hall’s mural. The color pallet from the previous painting shifted to a radical use of greys and reds. The whisping cirrus fed into a large black stormcloud that loomed over the extension of the hallway. Vibrant flashes of lightning illuminated the backdrop of the scene and made many of the boisterous storm clouds look like violent cosmic explosions. When I stopped to admire a detailed expression of cloud, I noticed the painted silhouette of an armor-clad angel amongst the dramatics. Its outstretched wings matched the curvature of the stormy display behind it and it raised its arm high above its head. In its hand, it held a long, menacing sword that extended high into the heavens above it. A streak of blue lightning extended from a nebulous point in the storm to meet the Angel’s sword where it curled coyly toward the tip of the blade. I had not noticed before but the scene depicted in this hallway’s mural was populated with the silhouettes of many menacing Angels, each dressed in a similar armor and each held a long-tipped sword. My sense of wonder towards the illustration slowly became one of apprehension. I pulled my wings closer around me.

The bustle of busy spirits slowed and thinned out as I continued down the straightaway. I walked slowly, craning my head to either side to read the designations above each approaching doorway. “Virtue and Punctuality, Virtue and Punctuality,” I repeated to myself, trying my best not to forget what the rude booth Angel had told me. To my dismay, none of the doors on either side of the hall included either of those words. Many of the doors instead read similar titles, like “REGIMENT AND RULE” or “CLASSIFICATION AND CARTOGRAPHY.” As I wandered, I began to get a little confused. It wasn’t until I meandered to the set of double doors at the end of the hall before I realized I had reached my designation. As clear as day, the words “VIRTUE AND PUNCTUALITY” hung in a flowing gold font over the doors’ brick and mortar archway. I should have figured the Archangels would signify their meeting place in such a glorious manner.

I did my best to stifle my nervousness and pushed at the rightmost door. At first it did not open and, when I pressed a bit of my heft against it, there was a brief give before more resistance. I heard an “Oop!” from beyond the barrier. I leapt back, embarrassed. Apparently I was pressing the door into someone! There was a bit of murmuring behind the door before it opened inward. I gulped in shock when I saw who stood before me.

“Ah, Azrael!” exclaimed Lucifer, his mouth curled into an unfamiliar smile. “Right on time, I see! It always pays to be punctual for a meeting at Virtue and Punctuality.” His demeanor was glaringly contrary to how he spoke in our previous meeting. I found the change pleasant but disturbing at the same time.

“Er,” I croaked, “I did not realize you would be attending, Mister Lucifer.”

“Mister Lucifer!” He repeated with a laugh over his shoulder, presumably to whoever else was in the room behind him. “What did I tell you about this kid, Gabe?” He turned back toward me and stared with a strange admiration I had only seen before from Father. “No, I won’t be joining in on today’s meeting, but do know that the higher ups are aware of your progress. You’ve yet to disappoint, little Angel.”

A warmth erupted in my face. It felt like shame and pride all at once. I opened my mouth but I didn’t have anything to say.

“Lucifer,” a dry voice called from behind the Archangel, “If you’re going to praise the creature’s punctuality, at least let him in the door to be punctual.”

“Ah, of course!” The smiling Lucifer took a labored step back and held the door open for me to enter. As I inched my way in, he snuck his towering form around me and out into the hall. “Best regards, Azrael!” He said as he let the door close between us.

The room was not as grand as I had expected. The magnificent aesthetic of the main hall had not transferred to the Archangels’ chamber. Instead, the walls and ceiling were a clean, abstract white. A skylight cropped from the ceiling’s center, allowing Father’s light to shine on the room’s simple furnishings. Ahead of me was a rectangular slab of marble cloud. It hung motionless in the center of the room, illuminated by the light from above. Ten marble white chairs surrounded the slab and sat suspended in a similar fashion.

At the opposite end of the slab from me sat two radiant Archangels. The first I noticed was a giant of a spirit with earth-brown, craggy skin and locks of flowing silver hair. He wore the same night-black robes that I had recognized on Lucifer but the mass of his chest and arms were bulging at the seams. His enormous hands were clasped together and resting on the slab, his fingers were dressed in several thick, golden rings. His eyes were the shocking blue of a lightning flash and his nose and lips were wide on his muscular face. He looked at me, wordlessly, with an expression barren of emotion.

The Archangel to his right was slender, petite in comparison, but something about her presence was far more threatening. She too wore the black Archangel’s robes, though the cuffs and collar were decorated with an elaborate, gilded pattern. Her amber hair poured from the top of her head in short waves that flowed down to her neck. Her face was narrow, almost gaunt. Her sharp chin pointed downward and her colorless lips were pursed. A needling nose drew a line from those pursed lips up to eyes blacker than a tempest.

“You may have a seat.” The smaller Archangel called and extended a welcoming hand toward the floating seat closest to me. Her voice was curt and intimidating, it lacked the song that hung in many other Angels’ voices.

“I do apologize for the short notice.” She continued as I approached my chair and sat down. “With Creation rapidly approaching, we have been encouraged to expedite certain processes.”

“No trouble at all!” I cried out, perhaps a little too loud, across the table. “In truth, I didn’t realize ‘The Plan’ was coming together so quickly. That’s good news!” I smiled. When the gesture was not returned, I said, “Isn’t it?”

“Hm.” The slender Archangel replied noncommittally. She raised her hand to her face and rubbed at her cheekbone with her finger. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited Archangel Uriel to this briefing. He will be sitting in on the interview process.” With her other hand, she offered an introductory gesture to the large Archangel to her left.

“Thank you, Gabriel.” Uriel’s craggy lips lifted into a welcoming smile and he unclasped his hands to place them both face down on the slab. “I wasn’t supposed to attend this meeting but, after hearing everything, I wanted to put a face to the name!”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “Gabriel, was it?” My eyes met the slender Archangel’s and she gave a slight, acknowledging nod. “What is this about an interview process? I’m afraid I don’t know why I was summoned today.”

Gabriel’s gaze shifted to meet Uriel’s for a moment before returning to me. “Your summons,” she said wryly, “explained that we were to discuss your function and purpose.”

“Now, now!” Uriel laughed in a thunderous tone that shook the room. “Like you said, Gabriel, things are happening so quickly these days. I get the feeling little Azrael here hasn’t been brought to speed with the recent influx of,” he paused as he searched for the right word, “adjustments being made to ‘The Plan.’” With each passing word that passed through Uriel’s lips, I preferred him more and more to Gabriel.

“Adjustments?” I repeated.

“He is little, isn’t he.” Gabriel sequitured and clicked her tongue, her voice permeated with venom.

“You must forgive Gabriel.” Uriel’s grin widened. “She is an auditor, after all. Father designed her to look for incorrections throughout the process. I imagine you’re more used to the friendliness of the Angels in the lower circle.”

“Ah, sure.” I lied. If spirits in the lower Angelarium were ever friendly, it was an event I had certainly never witnessed first hand.

“We’re not here to discuss my function, Uriel.” Gabriel reached below the chair and slammed a weighty book upon the slab’s surface. It was the second book I had ever seen, after my own. “This is about your progress, Azrael.”

“Oh.” I gulped. “I figured there were no discretions. I thought the naming process was coming along quite, er, nicely.” I hung my head and cursed in my mind whomever had complained about my process. I could only imagine it was that pedantic Qaspiel, still angry with his Jellyfish. Or maybe it was Ornias pulling a cruel prank, like his Platypus.

“Indeed.” Gabriel murmured as she flipped through an innumerable amount of pages in her book. “Yes, we’ve received word from Father and confirmation from Lucifer that you are, in fact, exceeding expectations.” Despite the commendation, her voice produced no kindness in its tone.

“Oh.” I said again. “Then, er, what’s the problem?”

“Problem?” Uriel laughed. “Azrael, your work is splendid! Before you came along, most Angels were designating approved creations with a complicated number system. It was getting ridiculous! And don’t get me started on trying to talk identification with the Djinn! They ID everything based on chemical composition! Gabriel,” he turned, “remember when Fuqtus gummed up the ledger for WEEKS because he referred to seagulls in his notes by the number of carbon atoms in their feathers?”

“Mmhmm.” Gabriel vaguely confirmed as she continued surveying her notes.

“Then Father comes along and says he’s tasked an Angel with giving every living thing a name! ‘A name!?’ I said, ‘How’s that going to help anything?’” Uriel turned back toward me. “But then you come along, you take a look at the seagull, you call it a seagull. It’s like that’s what it was supposed to be called this whole time! I mean, come on, it’s a gull that flies over the sea!”

“Quite.” Gabriel snapped her book closed. “What Uriel is trying to get at is that there has been a highly irregular decision made on your behalf.”

“Highly irregular?” I felt foolish repeating everything the Archangels offered but I was so nervous, my higher cognitive function had ceased.

“A promotion.” She asserted.

“A promotion!?”

“Will you stop that!”

“Azrael,” Uriel offered, “we would like to advance you to the role of Principality. Specifically we, the Archangels, need a note taker for our meetings. We figure that no one, so far, has taken detailed notes like yours. Of course, this will start after you’re done assigning your names but, by our projections, we should be finished up with creating new creatures here by the end of the week. So,” he puffed up his chest and lifted himself from his chair, “What do you say?”

I didn’t know what to say.

#fictionmetaphyicsangelsdemonsmagicmagickoccultmy writingwritingdeathgrim reaperreadthisfantasyhumorwitchcrafthorrorreligion

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Sick Kids Group Chat

sonmychest: 🤗 tigerbalm: 👋🧡 tigerbalm: it's been so long! 🙀 how are you?? sonmychest: I know! I suck sonmychest: don't want to be the youtuber spending ten minutes apologizing for not being here though sonmychest: I'm doing pretty good right now, how are you? 😚 tigerbalm: it's a bad day, not a bad life...is what I would caption if I was an instagram influencer or something 😸😸 brainpain: 🦸 speaking for me when I haven't streamed in days LOL sonmychest: 🤭🤭 sonmychest: at least we have reasons for being that #extra that aren't the vague notion of NEEDING a break from taking pictures of our ☕ brainpain: I do spend LOTS of time in a dark room but not for 📸 no flash photography PLEASE 😵 inandout: your feed just updated, Lo brainpain: 👮🚓🚨 sonmychest: stalking or hacking? sonmychest: either way I might need those expertise brainpain: I had a 🌈✨🧁 FIGHT ME, Zachary tigerbalm: it is pretty tbh inandout: friend request, but it's not as if I don't have zero hacking or stalking skills sonmychest: wait, what happened to the anonymity rules??? sonmychest: where's @gotspoons and what have you done with her?! inandout: you missed the overthrowing of a tyrant inandout: not really, but the rule book is gone gotspoons: going to pretend I was summoned by mention, not notification gotspoons: say how you really feel, Zach! 😔 inandout: I said not really, rowboat gotspoons: I have 👀 and 👂 everywhere so you better be nice 😏🤭 gotspoons: but no, hi again, @sonmychest! we missed you! gotspoons: it seemed the whole no names no real life details thing was more of a hindrance than a help to the whole goal of this group, so we came to the conclusion by majority, and the higher ups were all okay with it, providing everyone under a certain age got their parents to sign off and we all used the same common sense we use on other areas of the web gotspoons: so feel free to introduce yourself by real name if you would like, but it's not necessary if you would not 😊 gotspoons: reintroduce, I should say tigerbalm: we shared selfies & everyone was 😻😻😻 brainpain: learned what a sex god @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously aka Rich is sonmychest: 😱😱😱 sonmychest: can't believe I've missed so much sonmychest: need to get better at socialization, my mammy is right 😂 brainpain: an unrivalled love story brainpain: not that he's here to back me up on that inandout: Paris and Helen who? Romeo and Juliet who? Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII who? tigerbalm: wait, those are all 💔😿!! brainpain: he's being a brainpain: insert a swear word of your choice sonmychest: *stage whispers* it's not jealousy though, is it? sonmychest: clearly, fill me in on all the nuances whilst I frantically try to find a picture of myself that's even one 😻 brainpain: he's a 👶 you already know brainpain: but Rich will be leaving me for some uni girl 🤓 so he's not wrong about the doomed part sonmychest: face that launched a thousand ships is a really great insta bio though sonmychest: right, so we have Rich, Zach...who else? gotspoons: Rosie here 🤗 brainpain: Lauren tigerbalm: & me, Robyn inandout: the new girl who started the revolution is Zelda inandout: @ihatemyguts sonmychest: no way sonmychest: a fellow nerd, or at least child-of-a-nerd sonmychest: 'cos I'm Kara and I don't totally hate this photo [selfie] tigerbalm: 😻😻 tigerbalm: you look so like I imagined you, except I thought maybe you'd be 👼 tigerbalm: should we all send new pics? brainpain: [does because any excuse] brainpain: they'll be buried tigerbalm: [a selfie that's even shyer than the first one she sent] gotspoons: [the same photo as before] inandout: if I must [some ridiculous selfie] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: This is a nice welcome back tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and I've only been to physio brainpain: NOT ready for another selfie drop from you, boy brainpain: I'll be on my fainting couch brainpain: also hi tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Perhaps I should save your 🦴s and my pride when poor Kara, hello again btw, has to pretend to swoon too brainpain: 🦸 has great taste brainpain: we all love a shy boy tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: My teachers undoubtedly wish I were shy, make their lives a lot easier tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: [a photo] here we are anyway, I hope you found a soft surface suitable for you, Lauren brainpain: ☁ tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Ah, so you're the 👼 brainpain: LMAO 😈 brainpain: but you're looking angelic sir sonmychest: how are you ALL so cute sonmychest: this keeps happening, omg tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👼 face hides a multitude of 😈 sins apparently inandout: but reading between the lines, who else is making you swoon/stalk/hack inandout: that's my question tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Well spotted, Zachary 🔎 sonmychest: 🙈 ugh, I'm so embarrassing sonmychest: but we can pretend it's all spilling out now because I played it SO cool in the actual conversation, right 😬😅 inandout: that's the official story, everyone'll confirm sonmychest: thanks, I need the backup so I can also pretend I have lots of friends and a normal social life gotspoons: we are your friends, Kara! gotspoons: though are normal is different from most tigerbalm: & you're coming to my birthday party & even though you have to stand on the other side of the room to Zach, it's still social tigerbalm: OH & we were talking about potentially meeting up!! All of us brainpain: keep it 6ft, children inandout: I'll be in the garden with my date, you can have the indoors with yours inandout: collectively, because we're all speed dating here now inandout: proud of you for picking someone outside this circle sonmychest: GAH so much exciting information today!!! sonmychest: 😁 sonmychest: obviously, I figured no one needed the drama of me falling for you, Zach sonmychest: 💀 not cute inandout: there's already a book and film about it, the chance has been thoroughly missed brainpain: Ignore him, Zelda's nothing but thrilled to find someone else in her age bracket brainpain: 👶👶 brainpain: hit us with your 💞 please sonmychest: well, I didn't just re-log into this chat today, I went on all my old forums because well, boredom, we can all relate, right? sonmychest: what I thought would be the least promising one was the sonmychest: not a dating site, I'm not 100 but you know the kind sonmychest: anyway, the CUTEST boy starts talking to me and he's also really funny and nice ??? tigerbalm: OMG! Did you swap selfies there too? sonmychest: not yet sonmychest: because he sounds so 😻😻 sonmychest: and he wants to talk to me again and he might not if we do tigerbalm: you're 😻😻😻 Kara brainpain: what she said brainpain: + if he's as funny, nice, all of that, as you said brainpain: I doubt he's a shallow jerk inandout: are you a good judge of character or not? inandout: what it comes down to sonmychest: oh, thank you guys! sonmychest: I don't know sonmychest: I think I am sonmychest: he didn't immediately come out with weird requests or weird 📸 of his own and that's a massive start on that site, I was honestly there to 🗑 my account but he changed my mind brainpain: I'll PM you the spooky stories my sister sends me about guys, it'll make you feel better brainpain: you'd know if he was one sonmychest: 🤭 do, can compare notes sonmychest: we honestly just talked about totally normal, nerdy things, it wasn't even a little sketch brainpain: ✉️ + 100000000s brainpain: hold up tigerbalm: that sounds 🧡 & so does this boy tigerbalm: awwhhh sonmychest: [sends the description he sent her slow your roll gal lol] sonmychest: assuming he isn't the archetypal internet weirdo from the 90s scare tactics tigerbalm: WOW inandout: tall, dark and handsome inandout: original sonmychest: okay, I know that covers a lot of bases sonmychest: but someone has to be brainpain: continuing to ignore you, Zach sonmychest: I get it though sonmychest: it's not like I even care what he looks like though, so even if the pics aren't exactly that description brainpain: not every man can be my Rich but doesn't make them 👹/🤡/👻/👽/👥 brainpain: trust your gut, it's not that body part that's failing you tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👹 is a solid representation but the hair needs to be longer tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: at the risk of making myself or Zachary appear like overly protective boys, I think as long as you're as sensible as you surely are with this, then there's no harm in the back and forth tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: so if you were going to meet this person IRL, he could perhaps come to the group meet-up, that would be a good way to do it? brainpain: *🧝🏻 that's what needs to be said about your representation tigerbalm: Great idea, Rich! 😺 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: when the beard comes in I'll look more Gimli than Elrond but I'll take the compliment 👽 babe from outerspace brainpain: who's watching the LoTRs with me? gotspoons: count me out, I'm the worst film buddy ever 😴 ihatemyguts: how many naps could you have in 20hr28mins assuming we're watching everything extended release 'cos duh ihatemyguts: 🥳 go hard or go home 🥳 brainpain: that's you in ihatemyguts: of course ihatemyguts: long since stopped asking for a pause every time I gotta 💩 ihatemyguts: adept at catching up with the plot is a life skill I didn't expect to gain like this but 🙌 gotspoons: 😅 I could do the whole 20hr28mins and that not be a record for how many hours I've slept consecutively brainpain: I'll act it out for you, I can get the 🧝🏼🏹 costume together during the pauses brainpain: dressing up box runneth over sonmychest: 🙋 dibs Arwen sonmychest: my old Katniss cosplay can be repurposed with some bedsheets and a 👸 vibe to it brainpain: that makes Rich your daddy 👀 you, babe sonmychest: 😖😳 nooooooooooo brainpain: I'll be Galadriel if only so I can speak to my man telepathically 💕 brainpain: swerving off book for that love connection ihatemyguts: obviously eye of sauron ihatemyguts: jokes write themselves inandout: hair of a hobbit wig so likewise inandout: and you know, a jew, gonna be the one to handle the 💎 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: How hairy are your feet, a pickup line that doesn't get thrown about enough inandout: not sending you free feet pics inandout: PM for prices though tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Respect the hustle, Zachary tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but I have clearly pledged myself and my allegiance to an e-girl already 🧝🏼🏹 brainpain: changed my Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim name to Galadriel for you, Richard, you've officially made me basic brainpain: will cite it in the divorce tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as long as I can proudly produce said divorce to every mouthbreather that calls me a freak, I am okay with that tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: devastated, naturally 💔 but okay brainpain: hit me up for multiple re-marriages at your convenience, I like that for us tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Make a solid livestream 👰💒🤵 gotspoons: I'll get officiated! tigerbalm: imagine if any of us actually did get together cos of this forum gotspoons: You never know, Robyn gotspoons: it would be so adorable 😊 tigerbalm: Kara is giving me hope that online dating doesn't have to be a minefield sonmychest: don't give up yet! sonmychest: you're so lovely, a total catch tigerbalm: there still isn't a blushing 😸 emoji & I NEED it ihatemyguts: a travesty ihatemyguts: who do we need to @ for that brainpain: @fibrofog brainpain: he was a BIG DEAL ihatemyguts: 😏 hoping he comes back and I can 👰💒🤵 him obvs brainpain: 🔺 between me/him/Rich was prime in my life ihatemyguts: glory dayz brainpain: if he doesn't show up to stop our first wedding ihatemyguts: Zach won't even properly date me until we're confirmed #foreveralone at 18 inandout: you don't call this properly dating? inandout: @Kara you've got yourself a hater before your romance has fully taken off ihatemyguts: oi, don't drag me in to your 🧂 behaviour ihatemyguts: I'm very nice, I swear inandout: that's just how I taste inandout: she knows brainpain: if I didn't know my CF facts I'd be calling for a ban brainpain: that sounds filthy sonmychest: first declaring Rich my daddy, now 👅 Zach 😲😲😲 sonmychest: I'm also quite nice but not that kind of nice, I 🤞 tigerbalm: I don't think I wanna know.... inandout: But I'll tell you inandout: when we sweat, we lose too much salt, one of our many flaws inandout: on a hot day, you could lick us and taste it, if we like you enough to let you sonmychest: maybe that can be enough of a selling point? sonmychest: if crush boy talks to me again and it invariably comes up inandout: he might get to see it crystallise on your skin, not 💎 or ✨ but hey sonmychest: such a sexy condition, when you leave out all the mucus inandout: ZZ top is feeling it, she wants to properly date me ihatemyguts: 🧂 is a flavour I can enjoy pretty unrestricted ihatemyguts: let me have some pleasure tigerbalm: do the normies flirt like this too? tigerbalm: Kara you'll have to tell us, when you go further undercover ihatemyguts: don't know how lucky you are to have that pickup line in your back pocket ihatemyguts: just add tequila and a lemon and you've got a good time sonmychest: I'll 100% report back, providing he doesn't go 👻 brainpain: you need a drink when a boy lovingly strokes your hair only to feel the dent in your 💀 sonmychest: but also, to work out if your amazing hair is real or nah brainpain: I have too many split ends to be asked if it's a wig sonmychest: I ✂ my own sonmychest: and not often enough 😅 brainpain: don't reach for the bleach cos Robbie sees you as a blonde, there's my sisterly/old lady advice sonmychest: oh God, with these brows? sonmychest: I can swear I won't do that, along with meet up with internet randos alone brainpain: I'd volunteer to come along but I don't do disappearing into the background brainpain: would wear a trenchcoat for the right 💸💸 gotspoons: Normies definitely TRY to use our disabilities as a way to flirt with us, with varying success gotspoons: the amount of time I spend in bed is nothing to be 😏 about, honestly gotspoons: even if I was also chiming in to confirm blondes do have more fun, when they've had all their vitamins, a perfect amount of sleep, the stars have aligned JUST right... 🤭 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as resident ♿ user, they most ask if IT 'works', which is a bizarre level of care for people who aren't concerned about how me getting into their establishment really 'works' tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and, my dear, you are a terrible third wheel tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🔻 suits you better than obscurity 😎 brainpain: but I am a fun time with the TBI having increased the impulsiveness + removing the few inhibitions I did have 😉 brainpain: inappropriate sexual activity is a listed symptom 🤞 boys ihatemyguts: definitely a case of 'okay when I point it out to embolden myself, creepy if you do it' ihatemyguts: think some normies point out their flaws to be endearing but idk, is low-key a disability superpower guys, + 1 for us brainpain: like, what does that mean? Inappropriate for who? Answers on a ✉️ please ihatemyguts: could range from, science, you're being a prude to calling you a master criminal on the low brainpain: so many of my symptoms could describe anyone in their teens or early 20s brainpain: Rich, write a smart boy uni essay on it tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: depending on the bit that gets damaged, could be the same part that isn't yet fully developed in young people tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: checks out 🧠 brainpain: you're SO clever brainpain: you'll be fighting off more than one 🤓 girl tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm not sure about that, on either count tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: though the chair is a useful battering ram when it needs to be brainpain: I'm into it tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: then you can hitch a ride, of course brainpain: reserved™ tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: the parking is unparalleled brainpain: not allowed to drive, you are my transport now, no pressure gotspoons: Me either, who can? gotspoons: need to work out the carpool situation brainpain: my housemate will, she owes me 10000s of favours inandout: + my parents tigerbalm: mine too but they're a lot to inflict upon anyone sonmychest: ^^hard same tigerbalm: maybe we get ourselves there unless someone can't? tigerbalm: & those people speak up sonmychest: That makes sense to me brainpain: ok, is there anyone who needs a lift? ihatemyguts: I'm good tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: likewise gotspoons: I'll make a permanent post where people can register interest in the meet-up, as well as need for a lift gotspoons: so anyone who can offer a lift, can respond there too, sound good guys? 😊 inandout: cool inandout: very un-tyrant like gotspoons: thank you, Zach 😏

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hollandbaby · 6 years

Text

tattoo artist - t.h smut

I wrote this for @astroparker aka Meg: Queen of Ruining My Life (ily though) lmao. gif credit to parkery (tom’s so fucking cute look at him!!!!)

warnings; smut smut smut, swearing also

disclaimer; i do not own tom, this is all my imagination.

You entered the tattoo shop, the buzzing sound of tattoo machines filling your ears. You walk up to the reception desk and give your name, the receptionist woking you to take a seat and wait while she brings out Tom.

You were getting your second tattoo, however at a different place this time. Your first tattoo was done somewhere more dodgy, the design was not the best but it was only small and on your shoulder so you weren’t too bothered. This time, you wanted something bigger and more delicate and feminine - a sternum tattoo of a mandala lotus design. You spoke to your friend about the tattoo and she recommended this place.

After waiting about 5 minutes, the receptionist Paisley returns with a man in tow, his brown locks slicked back, his arms covered in various designs, forming a sleeve on one arm. He wore a tight fitting black t shirt, the sleeves tight around his muscular arms. You could vaguely see his abs through his top, the fabric sitting nicely against his skin. He wears a single hoop earring in his right ear, his warm brown eyes are welcoming and his smile is award winning.

“Y’alright love? I’m Tom, what can I do for you today?” You silently admire him as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering slightly.

“I’d like this on my sternum, just under the boobs.” You tell him, showing an image of the design you want. He asks for the phone, sketching up an image similar to the work on the photo. His design is even better than the picture you show him, causing your heart to flutter slightly. You like this guy already.

“Is this alright, darling? I was thinking the top of the flower could come up right between the breasts?” He tells you, his ideas full of passion.

“That sounds perfect, actually,” you smile at him.

“Sweet. Shall we go out back and get started then?” He asks you, leading you to the back room where the tattooing is done. He takes you over to his station, readying the machine and ink while you strip yourself of your top, laying down on the leather seat before removing your bra. You feel Tom looking at you from the corner of his eye, still preparing the tattoo machine, slightly distracted by the image of you lying on the seat in front of him, lacking clothing. Your hands cover your nipples, asking Tom how to position your breasts. You’re quite confident, something he finds endearing about you. He tells you to lift your breasts up and pull them apart, slightly, so he can get the stencil on perfectly. Tom carefully puts the stencil in place, the lotus flower fitting perfectly central between and under your breasts, his touch sending a wave of electricity through you.

“Is this your first?” He asks, as he changes his gloves to start tattooing you.

“Nah, I have a really shit one on my shoulder of a rose - it’s only small but I have a pretty high pain tolerance.” Tom’s eyes never leave yours as you talk to him.

“How shit is it? You might need a touch up or a cover up, if you want one of course.” You consider his offer, finding yourself wanting to come back to see Tom again.

“It’s pretty shitty but I never see it so it doesn’t bother me too much. I’ll show you it after if you’d like? Then we can devise a plan?” You ask him, you can tell Tom enjoys talking to you about tattoos. He’s passionate about them.

Tom smiles at you as he picks up the tattoo machine, dipping the needle in ink and turning the machine on to start tattooing you. He begins tattooing, going over the stencil with the needle. The feeling of the warm skin of his arm on your stomach is sensational, his brow furrowed slightly as he concentrates on getting the design perfect. Your heart rate picks up a bit the closer he gets to just under your breasts, his hand just skimming the soft flesh. He notices your breath hitching at the slight contact, briefly breaking his concentrated stare on the tattoo. Smirking cockily to himself, his eyes go back to the design he’s tattooing, his fingers skimming your breasts again; this time more intentionally.

“Take deep breaths through the pain, sweetheart.” He tells you, though you both know full well that your rapid breathing isn’t because of the pain of the tattoo machine, but rather the feeling of Tom against you.

The pain was not unbearable, although it was more uncomfortable than the small one on your shoulder.

“All done. I’ll pass you a mirror and you can tell me what you think? Then we can go through aftercare and stuff like that.” Tom says, cleaning up your tattoo. He hands you a mirror to take a proper look at the new design just under and between your breasts. It’s a beautiful design of a lotus flower, better than the original picture you showed him. You smile as you look at the design some more, loving the look of the ink on your skin.

“Thank you so much! I love it.” You look up at Tom, smiling. He hands you back your top, advising you not to wear your bra just yet as the skin is still sore, and talks through aftercare as you pull the fabric over your head, careful not to flash anyone your nipples. Tom watches you carefully as he speaks to you, taking in the soft skin of your stomach and breasts, watching them disappear as you pull your top down. You catch him looking and blush profusely, to which he smirks at you.

“What about this little tattoo on my shoulder? Do you think it needs covering? I trust your professional opinion.” You ask him, laughing slightly at your last statement, easing the tension from before.

“Lemme have a look,” you pull down the sleeve of your t shirt to show him the old tattoo, “oh yeah that’s pretty shit, love. Do you want something similar or different when you come back for a touch up?” He asks, inspecting the tattoo. Again, the feeling of his fingers on your skin ignites something in you, causing butterflies in your stomach.

“I think the rose is pretty tacky not gonna lie, plus it’s not even my favourite flower.”

Tom leads you back out to the main reception area, going behind the counter to book an appointment for you.

“How’s next Tuesday, around 6? It shouldn’t take too long to cover, darling.” He tells you, your heart skips a beat when he calls you darling, just making him more attractive to you.

“Sounds perfect.” You smile at him. You pay Tom for your tattoo, leaving the shop with a blush on your face and the thought of Tom’s hands on you.

When you go back to get your other tattoo covered, Tom immediately jumps up to greet you, asking about your recent tattoo. You show him it, as it’s healed, and he smiles to himself, clearly proud of his work.

“Looks amazing, babe.” He smirks as he tells you this, somehow knowing what his little pet names do to you.

The shop is fairly empty, only one other customer in there and Tom tells you that their receptionist is off sick so he’d been having to cover reception all day. You laugh at this, unable to see him sat behind the desk for the day, he seems all to fidgety to be bound to one place.

“Don’t laugh at me, sweets, I’m in control of the needle remember.” He smiles at you, the flirty banter between you two just adding to your attraction to one another. You sit on the same leather chair, pulling the sleeve of your top down so Tom has access to covering it. He places the stencil over your old tattoo, his breath hot on your neck - you feel like he does this on purpose. Tom gets called out into the main reception area, just as he was about to start tattooing you.

“Ah, fucks sake. I’ll be back in a sec, love.” He tells you, leaving the room to see what he’s needed for.

He returns maybe 5 minutes later, your head shoots up from your phone, looking at him expectantly.

“So the other guy, Gary, had to go home early. Family emergency. I’ve just put the closed sign up on the door, hope you don’t mind, I just don’t want people disturbing us.” He tells you, slightly out of breath from the explanation.

“Tom, it’s fine, I don’t mind at all.” You smile at him, putting your phone down and sitting back up on the chair. The thought of being alone in the shop with Tom somehow gives you a boost of confidence, “besides, I quite like the thought of just you and me here.” You stand up as you say this, walking over to Tom.

“Is that so?” He smirks back at you, cockily. His hand reaches for the door, closing it slowly. You continue walking over to him, backing him against the door.

“Mhm. I like that we won’t have any disruptions.” You’re dangerously close to him now, still not touching one another - teasing.

He smirks at you, “careful what you say, darling, you might get me a tad too excited.”

You blush at this, knowing Tom has some sort of feelings for you making you both nervous and excited.

“How excited, Tom?” You lean up, your bodies making slight contact now. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast. He’s still smirking at you, looking into your eyes for any signs of doubt. After finding none, he leans close to your lips; “very excited.”

You growl as you grab his t shirt, smashing his lips against yours. His arms go straight to your waist, curling around you and bringing you closer to him. Your hands move up to his curly hair, feeling soft between your fingers. You tug his hair as you deepen the kiss, causing Tom to moan softly.

“Fuck, darling, who knew you were so rough?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Holland.” He chuckles and brings your lips back to his by grabbing your jaw, guiding you to him. One of his strong, tattooed arms are still wrapped around your waist, his hand slides down to grope your ass, causing you to moan now. You deepen the kiss, tasting Tom. He reciprocates, moaning at the feeling of your tongue on his, teasing you with a “what else can that tongue do, sweetheart?”

His other hand moves from your jaw to your ass, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, his strong arms holding you close to him. You can feel his arousal on you, his cock prominent through the material of his jeans. You whine at the feeling of him on you, your senses are consumed wholly by Tom - his smell, his taste, his hot skin, his hands on your ass, the feeling of his hair between your fingers.

Tom leads you to his tattooing station, setting you down on his leather chair, never breaking the kiss. You lean up to kiss him, as Tom pushes your top up, feeling the soft skin of your stomach beneath his fingertips.

“Don’t be so gentle, Holland.”

“Darling, you don’t know what’s coming.” He tells you, leaning in to kiss you again. He pulls away from the kiss biting your lower lip, causing you to whimper.

He works on getting your jeans off as you work on his top, pulling the cotton material over his head, his hands immediately going back to your jeans, you lift your hips so he can slide them off. He pushes your legs apart, fingers digging into the skin, while he kisses you. Your hands roam his body, pulling his torso towards you, tracing his prominent abs. Tom breaks the kiss and starts kissing down your neck, causing your eyes to flutter closed as he roughly sucks the skin there.

“Looks like you have many ways of marking my skin.” You laugh at your own comment, feeling Tom smile against you before he bites down on your neck, causing your laugh to turn into a loud moan.

“Darling, you sound so good.” He tells you, his hands are still gripping your thighs, his lips and tongue continue their attack on your neck, you’re so turned on your pussy aches. Tom continues kissing down your neck, stopping to pull your t shirt over your head, and proceeding to kiss down your body. He unhooks your bra, your soft boobs press against his hard chest. Tom leans down to kiss along your breasts, kissing the lotus flower he tattooed on you last week. His left hand glides up your thigh, coming to your centre. He feels you through your underwear, which are wet from your arousal.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” His words cause you to moan, “yes, baby, all for you.”

Tom smirks to himself again, his fingers continuing to tease your pussy. He brings his other hand up to take your panties off completely, leaving you bare and beautiful before him. His mouth waters at the sight of you, legs spread, pussy on show, incredible boobs, hickies covering your neck and collarbones. His hands go back to your thighs as he leans his entire body lower, his face coming in line with your pussy. You moan at the sight of Tom between your legs, his tattoo covered arms flex as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders. Tom leans in to kiss up your thighs, teasing you. You squirm under his touch, causing him to lift one hand upto your stomach, holding you down.

“Stop squirming, baby, it only makes it worse for you,” he’s smirking smugly, his lips looking incredibly red and inviting.

Tom leans down again, this time licking up between your folds, to your clit. You let out the loudest moan yet, his warm wet tongue surprising you. Your hands fly to his hair, keeping him right between your legs. He licks up again, coming to your clit which he flicks with the tip of his tongue. Your hands grip his hair harder, wanting him to stay between your legs forever. He moans as you tug his hair, the sound vibrating against your aching pussy.

“Fuck, Tom, ‘m close, babe.” Your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders, his hand still holding you down, his tongue flicking your sensitive bundle of nerves. You bring his head closer to your cunt, his tongue never stopping. You look down to see him already staring at you, making eye contact while he works wonders on you with just his tongue. You come at the sight of him and the feeling of his tongue on your clit. You grip his hair harder, arching your back while your legs shake from the incredible orgasm. You moan out loud, “fuck fuck fuck, Tom!” eyes rolling to the back of your head. Tom laps at your pussy while you come down from your high, tasting you.

“You taste so sweet, darling.” He tells you, leaning back up to kiss you, the taste of your cunt still lingering on his lips and tongue.

“I bet you taste sweeter.” You challenge him, smirking as your hands come down to his jeans, pulling on the button and zip.

“As much as I’d love to see your pretty lips wrapped around me, if I’m not inside of you soon I think I might lose my shit.” Tom tells you, searching for his wallet. He finds it in his back pocket, pulling a condom out.

“You’re one of those guys,” you tease, giggling to yourself. You know full well that Tom isn’t like other guys, but teasing him whilst he’s ready to fuck you seems to add to his dominance.

“Sweetheart, I’m not one of those guys.” He tells you, pulling down his jeans and boxers. He pulls you in for another kiss, your hand going between you to roll the condom onto his hard cock. Tom groans at the feeling of your small hand on his aching dick.

“You’re so good, baby.” You smile st the compliment, leaning back against the leather chair. Tom follows eagerly, spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. He lines his cock up with your wet entrance, pushing in slowly. He’s thicker and longer than what you’re used to but he feels so good inside you. Tom let’s you adjust for a minute, holding back to make sure you’re comfortable before pounding into you. He thrusts hard into you, his cock going deep inside you, hitting your g spot instantly.

“Fuck! You’re so good, baby.” You tell him, the feeling of his cock inside you is heavenly. His inked arms are situated either side of your torso, your own arms reaching up to wrap around his shoulders. You moan as he thrusts into you wildly, now knowing you’d adjusted perfectly to him. You scratch down his back as he fucks you, causing Tom to moan loudly as well. You can see sweat forming on his forehead, his lips parted as he focuses on your body beneath him. You pull him down for a sloppy kiss, a messy mixture of lips and tongues, he bites your lip s few times, causing you to whimper. One of his hands comes to rest on your breast, feeling the soft flesh between his fingers. He groans at the feeling of your boobs, mixed with you clenching your pussy on him.

“Shit, darling, so tight.” His moans punctuated with thrusts. You are a moaning mess beneath him, his hand slides down to your clit and rubs there, adding to the immense pleasure you’re feeling.

You moan loudly at the sudden contact, clenching around his cock again.

“Yes, darling, is that good? You like when I fuck you hard and rough?” You moan at this, answering with “yes, fuck.”

You feel your second orgasm approaching, Toms thrusts become sloppier, your cunt clenching tightly around him.

“Tom, babe, i’m gonna come.” you moan out at him

“Don’t hold back, darling. Come for me.”

You come on cue - Tom’s fingers on your clit mixed with him hitting your g spot with every thrust bringing you to the edge. You clenching around Tom sets off his orgasm, he comes with a groan, emptying his load into the condom. He thrusts sloppily as you both come down from your highs, pulling out and discarding of the condom before collapsing on top of you.

“Y’know, when you asked me to come back for a touch up I was not expecting this.” You tell him, giggling as he lies his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so kinky, sweets.” He smirks at you, looking into your eyes. Your heart flutters as you lean down to peck his lips, admiring the different designs on his arms. You notice he had more tattoos on his thighs, calves and one on his chest. You spend the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing.

#tattoo artist!tom #tom holland #my baby #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x you

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mysticsparklewings · 5 years

Photo

Dancing Beads

I'll be honest with you guys, I've had a rough past couple of days. Heavy anxiety hanging over me like a thick fog, making it difficult to think straight, let alone work. That's why I submitted a WIP shot of this drawing earlier in the week. It was technically finished, but I just didn't have the stamina and focus to get it ready to post on Wednesday, and I pretty much knew that I wouldn't have it in me to make something else new to go up today. That said, I am feeling a little bit better and I hope that means I'm coming around the bend and will be truly back and ready to rock in another day or so. In the meantime, let's talk about the artwork, shall we? This is sort of an extended OOTD (Outfit Of The Day) drawing in a similar vein as this first OOTD drawing I ever did, OOTD: Witch Socks. I say extended and cut "OOTD" out of the title this time because of A. This drawing was done over 2-3 days and B. I obviously was no longer wearing the outfit by the time the drawing was finished. And also, secret reason C. I didn't actually wear this outfit out of the house; I just liked the way the colors worked together and thought it would make for a cute drawing. And honestly, even for someone like me who enjoys dressing eccentrically, I think this would've been a little too far over the edge to wear out and about anyway. (I promise it looks a lot more socially acceptable in the drawing than it did in person) It's funny though, my last OOTD drawing was heavily inspired by the socks I was wearing that day, which looked like witch boots (hence the title it had), and this time my funky socks are once again a key point, but this piece got named after the pose and a different accessory. ...And I just noticed that this OOTD also has a pose where my head is in-profile facing the left...huh... Anyway; the key player here is the little plastic shiny red bead necklaces. They aren't much here in the drawing, but they're what set this whole thing in motion. My mom was cleaning out her purse and found them, remembering that she'd meant to give them to me when she initially brought them home from something they did at work, and since I was right there I just slid them on until I could put them away properly. (I have something of a small collection of bead necklaces like this for reasons unbeknownst even to me.) And at some point I was just feeling really good and kind of cute/kooky that day, and that's more or less where the idea to draw my outfit was born. From there, I'm not really sure where the pose came from other than the very loose/swinging nature of the necklaces and I wanted something fun and dynamic. And I swear I've tried to draw or seen this pose somewhere before, but if I did it must've been something I never posted because I sure can't find it in my gallery. (Although it was at this point that I pretty much knew what the title for this was going to be ) And to be fair, I'm not sure the proportions/anatomy came out exactly right. At first, I thought the legs (or at least the calves) were too short, but then I re-evaluated and decided the arms were too long, so I shortened them and I feel like for the most part that fixed/evened things out. I just really didn't want to have to re-draw the feet because I felt like they (especially the one on the left) came out really good the first time. Weirdly enough, the hands didn't give me a ton of trouble the second time around, as I worried they might. And I also didn't have that much of a struggle getting the profile of the face right, which is unusual because of all the ways to draw a face, that's usually the one I have the most trouble with. Then again, I guess I shouldn't be that surprised since a while ago when I was last drawing people more consistently I did do more profile faces and hands than usual, but I don't know. It's just kinda weird to not have that much trouble with them when in the past they've been main problem areas for me, at least during the sketching phase. Either way, as far as the actual drawing part goes, I think the most difficult thing this time was the bodice area because I wanted to get the proportions pleasing to the eye, but the tank top to still have reasonable folds, and the overall flow to work with the rest of the piece. But even that still wasn't too bad. The beads also took a while, since I was indeed fully committed to drawing every individual bead, but that really wasn't difficult, it just required patience. Little did I know, the difficulties would come in transferring the sketch to where I wanted it. I think I've gotten my fill of alcohol markers, given three of my most recent drawings were little kitties done almost exclusively in those, and so that combined with just not having done much with colored pencils in general lately (other than as smaller detail things or using water-soluble ones more like paint than pencils), I decided to do a bit of a return-to-form and make use of an extra piece of toned gray paper I've had waiting around to be used since like March, and do some good ol' colored pencil work. The joke was on me because I was very quickly reminded why I haven't used the gray paper a ton, especially compared to the toned tan paper I have; for reasons I can't figure out, it's incredibly hard to see through the paper to transfer lines, even with my lightbox on the brightest setting! So after several minutes of disappointed pondering, I dug out a charcoal stick I've had sitting in a "junk" art supply box (of which I have two; they're just boxes where the random stuff I don't really use or reach for very often that I don't have a good way to organize ends up) for the last half of forever and scribbled on the back of where I'd already transferred the lines once onto a regular piece of white paper (having hoped the black ink lines would be easier to see through the gray paper, which they were, but it still wasn't enough) and then used a mechanical pencil with the point shoved in to transfer the lines onto the gray paper. It's a very round-about way to do it, but it worked. And I went with the charcoal this time instead of trying the gelato trick that I learned with my Fly By the Moon piece because I thought the gelatos might not work all that great with the colored pencils, and I also thought they might make more of a mess trying to transfer onto regular paper instead of onto canvas. This ended up being a good choice also because the charcoal I was able to mostly erase/lift after I touched up the transfer in a few places and then I went back in with proper ink lines to make sure I wouldn't lose them once I started coloring. The lines finally taken care of, I could finally get to the fun part: coloring. And after some behind-the-scenes swatching experiences made them seem better than I had previously remembered, I decided to use my Schpirerr Farben colored pencils. Though I did make the mistake of using my white Prismacolor as a base for the skin. Not that it was a mistake because a white base wasn't needed (it was, and for everything else I used the white from the Schpirerr Farben set as a base), but because the Prismacolor pencil being wax-based, where the Schpirerr Farbens are oil-based, there was a conflict of texture in the layering. Kind of luckily though, I went too dark with the shading on the skin originally and had to work in more layers to fix that, and in that process, I think I managed to get the texture thing mostly under control. I did purposely use that in the hair though, since hair normally has...well, you know, noticeable texture. Otherwise, coloring was a pretty basic colored pencil experience (for me, anyway). I'd put down a base, then the base color, then work on the shading, and as I did certain parts I'd go back and adjust others based on what felt right. I have to say, I think the main drawback to the Schpirerr Farben pencils is really that they only come in 72 colors. I was able to do some mixing and shading and things to get the colors to where I needed them to be (the purple-y blue and red-orange colors on the socks, in particular, I had to mix to get), but I was really missing the wider selection I get from Prismacolor (150) or the Faber Castell Polychromos (120). Which isn't a huge deal, but it is a point for having multiple sets of pencils (or if you're the brand and not the consumer, making larger sets/adding new colors), even if you're loyal to a particular set/brand. Especially if the pencils play well together; the more you have, the wider color range you have to pick from. Other than that, I can confirm they do still layer and blend really nicely without much fuss (as had been my impressions back when I first talked about them). They're just soft enough that it always surprises me when I go to add a layer and the color goes on better than I thought it would because I figured I'd reached my limit on layers already. Considering they've recently branched out and made a watercolor set recently, I'm not sure as to how much stock I should put in Schpirerr Farben possibly returning to their pencils and making more colors...Does the watercolor thing mean they've closed the book on the pencils and want to focus on other supplies now, or does that mean there's hope that they'll continue to innovate on their products, including potential upgrades to the pencils? I'm not sure. Either way, once I finished coloring the figure in, I went back over the ink lines where I'd gotten colored pencil over them and they'd faded/washed out as a result, and then did the white outline with my white gel pen. Then I left the drawing alone overnight because it was missing something, but I wasn't sure what and I couldn't think of anything that night. When I came back to it the next day, I ended up deciding on something slightly complicated; A soft purple PanPastel background with one triangle shape masked/blocked out, and one triangle done in washi tape. This would end up evolving from the second triangle just being bigger to it being a slightly different kind of triangle and going in the opposite direction. And also I changed my mind on which washi tape to use about three different times, finally settling on this metallic-printed on for a little more intrigue when you see the piece IRL. (Even though here on the scan it just looks dark and borderline out of place ) Then to "blend" the metallic into the drawing as a whole better, I added the little dots in the background around the head with a gold shadow gelly roll, since in-person the color looks really close to the metallic print on the tape and the dots kind of tie in the "beads" theme a little better. (Again, this doesn't translate as well into the scan, but I kinda knew that was a risk with both things when I put them down.) And I did go over a few of the beads on the necklaces with the same pen to tie everything all together. Then I signed it with my white gel pen, and I felt much better about calling it finished. And you know, it has its flaws and all, but I am pretty happy with how it turned out anyway. It's a little more simple and there's not a ton of deep meaning or impactful influence behind it or anything, it's not terribly experimental, but it's still a fleshed out, polished drawing. And I really enjoy that, as it gave me more room to just kind of hone in on and practice skills I'm already fairly comfortable with, and sometimes that's just what you need in art, you know? I'm not sure what I'll end up making to post next--I've got some ideas, of course, (never a shortage of those around here ) but I've been a little too muddled to settle on anything just yet, so we'll just have to wait and see. For now, I'm trying to focus more on being gentle with myself until I seem to be back up to snuff to really buckle down on stuff. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

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theas-bedtime-stories · 7 years

Text

Nemo Nisi Mors #4

Pairing: Dan x Phil

Word count: 1085

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Phil has a super artistic soulmate. Phil is also super forgetful.So when Phil writes down all his appointments on his hand, Dan ends up with constant reminders that, honestly, he can’t even read. So he decides to do little doodles everyday for his soulmate. A beautiful connection forms but will they ever find each other?

Or is this too beautiful to risk shattering?

Warnings: None

A/N: I haven’t written any other chapters yet, let me know if you would like more :)

Upon arriving at Brookes I stepped in to be greeted by my usual barber, Ian, offering me a cup of tea. I look around for a spare place on which to perch whilst I waited. I spotted a seat on the sofa, opposite the most beautiful human being I have ever had the luck of crossing paths with. He couldn’t have been much more than 17 years old. He had what seemed to be soft skin, bronzed just so slightly. Despite the gentle tan he had I seemed like a transparent ghost in comparison. His brown fringe was gently tickling his nose, to which he responded by wrinkling his nose. Obviously reading something funny on his phone he burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the edges, the most adorable dimple appearing in his cheek. This boy encompassed everything that beauty is, he was, in my opinion, angelic.

Ian broke my train of thought by tapping me on the shoulder, tea in his hand he gestured towards a chair.

“What will it be today?” He asked me despite knowing the answer.

“The usual please” As Ian kindly washes, re-dyes and trims my hair, I can’t help but to look at this stranger in the mirror. Usually people in all back have a sort of, ability, to strike an underlying fear within me. They all seem to be powerful people who I would never stand a chance against. Yet somehow, this boy wears all black in a sense that makes him seem almost vulnerable in a way. With skinny jeans and a leather jacket he could pass as a biker but somehow I get more of a gentle vibe.

The mystery boy is gone by half 2, I never even saw him get anything done. Curious I ask Ian about the mysterious stranger and what he was doing here…

“Oh him? That’s Mr Howell, he usually just comes here to experiment with different fringes. He had no appointment today so no idea why he was here. He just turned up, about 10 minutes before you did. I was too surprised that you were 10 minutes early to really question it sorry mate.”

And with that, I pay and make my way home. The entire time thinking about this Mr Howell and why the hell he would be there. The only time I ever saw him look up was when the door opened any time after 2. Weird. Yet despite the inexplicability of his presence I still couldn't help but think of him with happiness, that boy was so beautiful I just could not quite comprehend it.

A ticklish sensation on my right hand reminds me of who I should be thinking and fantasizing about. Scalding myself I turn my attention to my wrist. No drawings this time. That is strange? There’s just some dots with tiny numbers next to them? “Join the dots ^ ^” appears underneath. After a minute of scrambling for a fine enough pen in my bag, I join the dots one-by-one. They form 3 letters with a small animal beside them. “DJH” I have no clue what the hell they stand for but I think they have drawn a Llama next to it so I am already intrigued.

“What does DJH stand for???”

“They’re my initials, I thought it was about time I introduced myself” Comes the reply. “So hi, my names, Dan. Unfortunately you are stuck with me as your soulmate and I like to doodle (as you can tell)”

Giggling at how he manages to somehow portray such a sense of awkward shyness in so few words. The idea is so cute. I let myself into my house I wonder up to my room before responding. “Hello, my names Phil, I completely adore your artwork and I’m a hopeless romantic with a fringe” I think that was as good as it was going to get. We talk for a bit longer before we both disappear of for dinner. I feel like a terrible human being as throughout the whole of my meal, and even when talking to Dan, I cannot stop thinking about the boy from the hairdressers. I feel so dirty, as if I am committing some unforgivable sin. That boy, Mr Howell, is not my soulmate so I should get my head out my bloody arse and appreciate what I have actually got – a funny, talented, genuine, boy for a soulmate.

After a while I decide I should see if Dan is able to talk yet so I send him a dreadful little drawing of a lion with the word “Hey” in a little speech bubble. All I get in response is a “Fuck Off” stunned, I just stare at it; I am overcome with confusion. I don’t quite know what to do with myself. How am I supposed to respond to that? I knew it. I knew I fucked up thinking about that stranger, I knew he could tell. I have upset him and have probably torn this relationship up forever; unrepairable.

All this and more runs through my mind for what feels like forever to me, but in all reality was merely a third of a second. I look down at the words to find something I really was not expecting. I had been so caught up in my mini meltdown that I had not felt the small winking boy being concocted next to the swearing. “Look in the mirror (take of your top).” Was now scrawled beneath the original lettering. I pull my sweater off before turning to the mirror, as I catch sight of myself I feel all my previous worries and inhibitions wash away. I am stunned that I didn’t notice the furious sketching that was occurring on my body. There was now a mesmerizingly detailed portrait of a lion laying side by side with a llama covering the blank space which was once my torso. The detail is so accurate that it is surreal. I feel as if, were I too reach out and touch my chest, I would be able to feel the soft mane of the lion. Dan had even drawn in the blades of grass on which the animals were laying. I have never seen something so magnificent in my life. I mean all of his previous work had been incredible but this just blew my mind.

“My god I love it” I write. I want this tattooed on me forever, I can’t keep my eyes off of myself.

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