#my bed is covered in books and art supplies

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said. 

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?” 

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed. 

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 

“How you liking Kildare?” 

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

[luvsellie]

MASC ON [e. williams]

pairing high school au!ellie x fem!reader

summary being the new girl in school meant walking in to projects smack-dab in the middle of the year. but when you get assigned to work with the masc girl who sits next to you, there’s no hiding your blatant attraction toward her…and maybe she can’t hide her’s either.

warnings ellie and reader are 18 here (seniors in high school) !! kissing, pining (this is literally just fluff and i wanted an excuse to write for flashback el)

wc 3.9k

note this is incredibly self-indulgent and took me an embarrassing long amount of time to actually write i apologize (title inspiration from the song mask off by future)

“this is so stupid.”

ellie’s complaint compelled you to roll your eyes, a redundant sigh escaping you. “i heard you the last three times you said it.”

your deskmate slumped against the side of her bed, nimble fingers fidgeting with a slightly chewed pen as she watched you create a rough outline of the halle comet on a large poster board—she thought it was more entertaining than trying to gather the essential information your teacher had required to be provided. you could feel her eyes observing every flick and stroke of your pencil as you struggled to copy the image from your laptop.

the task had deemed itself to be more complicated than you thought, and after one more final attempt, you tossed the writing utensil to the side in frustration. “this is so stupid.”

snorting at your disgruntled attitude, ellie reached for the pencil. “how about this; i’ll draw and you get the stats. i’m dying of boredom over here.” she shuffled closer before you could object, shoving her textbook your way.

not bothering to argue, you grabbed your backpack and started to sift through the supplies you had brought along to her house. markers, pens, pencils, scissors, binder…

removing your binder from your bag you flipped it open, only to be met with other assignments and notes from varying classes. groaning, you said over a shoulder, “ellie do you have notebook paper?”

“yeah—top drawer of my desk,” she answered without looking in your direction, her short hair falling to cover the side of her face.

nodding to yourself, you shoved your things back in your bag and stood, making your way toward her desk. it was rather cluttered, which didn’t shock you in the least, but still organized in probably a way only ellie would understand.

you grabbed the first drawer’s handle and gently pulled, exposing the mess that was inside. grumbling to yourself about how ellie couldn’t possibly be able to find anything in this chaos, you began to poke through her things. managing to spot a spare journal—which you noted was not looseleaf paper like you had asked—you carefully maneuvered the notebook out from underneath all of her art supplies.

hip-thrusting the drawer shut, you flipped the journal open, eager to get on with the research you did not want to do, simply to get this project over with. but as you overturned lined pages, you came to realize this was a sketchbook—and you were the starring subject.

“ellie,” you called, eyes trained on a drawing of you slumped over a book in the school library (you recalled this day rather vividly).

the auburn-haired girl finally looked up from her spot on the carpeted floor. she quickly realized what was in your hands. “shit,” she couldn’t help but mutter in panic. ellie rushed to her feet, already reaching to take the sketchbook from you. “sorry, you weren’t supposed to-”

you said her name again, interrupting her explanation with “you would’ve saved me a lot of time had you been the one to draw that ridiculous comet from the get-go.”

ellie’s arm fell to her side, and she tried to calm her racing heart with a deep inhale. she scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, invisible strings tugging on the corners of her mouth when she realized you weren’t pissed at her. “yeah, i guess you’re right.” she paused before adding, “you’re a really shitty artist.”

your eyes flickered to hers immediately, and you snapped the journal shut before smacking her left upper arm with it. “hey! i tried my best, okay? we can’t all be as talented as you.”

“got that right,” ellie mused, her familiar easygoingness making a return. she stuck a hand out. “can i please have my sketchbook back?”

you kissed the back of your teeth, giving her a look of contemplation as you hugged the object in your hand a little closer to your chest. “mm, i don’t know. i was thinking about going through it some more. i mean, i barely got to see anything.”

ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you told her with a nod, taking a step closer to the desk behind you.

her hand dropped, and you swore that something flashed across her face, but before you could identify what it had disappeared. maybe i’m pushing it, you thought suddenly, growing aware of the way you were holding onto something that she probably poured her heart and soul into.

across from you, ellie adjusted her stance before shrugging. “alright. have fun, i guess. i just need it back tomorrow by 6th period.”

you blinked at her words, dumbfounded by her compliance. watching her return to the poster board on the floor, you held the little journal closer, already making note of what you would be doing later when you returned home.

ellie liked to draw you. she supposed it was rather obvious, but seeing the way your eyes widened as you observed her drawings made her second guess. had she really not been that apparent? she guessed not. and while she was excited to let you take her sketchbook home, she was more nervous.

it was very hard to sleep that night, and only when the small illuminated numbers on her alarm clock struck two a.m. did she finally manage to doze off.

“you look a little…rough,” dina said, cringing at her own word choice.

ellie ran a hand through her hair as she walked beside the shorter girl. “thanks. i hadn’t noticed.”

dina ignored the jab. “i can’t believe you actually gave it to her. hell, you never even let me touch that thing…and you’ve only known her for, like, two weeks! i am feeling a little betrayed, but it’s whatever.”

“letting her look at it just…felt right? i don’t know how to explain it. she doesn’t seem like someone who’d become suddenly disgusted by me drawing her way before we ever started talking,” ellie confessed, spotting the door to her earth and space class.

“ouch.” dina grabbed ellie’s arm, pulling her to an empty wall. “first of all, i wouldn’t be disgusted by you if i was her. secondly, stop being nervous. there’s no need for all of that.”

“i’m not nervous,” she objected immediately.

the brown-eyed girl stared blankly at her. “yes, you are. you’re more fidgety than normal. just go in there, sit down, and wait for her to walk in. you said she normally gets to class practically right before the bell rings?”

“yeah, she comes from the other side of the building.”

“perfect! now go.” dina shoved her friend in the direction of the classroom, waving her off with a smile.

sighing through her nose, ellie entered the room, greeted her teacher, and visibly sagged when she noticed you weren’t in your seat yet. there’s still some time, she thought to herself, not realizing that you had walked in behind her until you said: 

“hey, el, you’re kinda in the way.”

you watched as ellie turned to face you, her eyes wide as she whirled. “you got here fast,” she stated bluntly.

shrugging, you moved past her to walk toward your desk. as you sat you said, “class was in the library today since they were using our room for testing.”

ellie nodded from in front of you, still standing. you noticed how aloof she was acting. “are you gonna sit?” you asked, gesturing to the desk beside you.

“yes,” she said hastily, pulling back her chair. she landed with a thud. slouching against the back of her seat, she looked at you and continued, “you brought the poster in, right? this morning?”

your mouth pressed into a thin line. “yes, ellie, i brought the poster in. but we’re not presenting today anyway, so had i forgotten, we’d still be okay.”

“god, that is such a relief,” she sighed, leaning her head back to stare at the speckled tile ceiling and roll her tense shoulders.

“agreed,” you breathed while hauling your bag into your lap. unzipping it, you pulled out the familiar brown journal. “here. back to you before 6th period. just like you said.”

ellie took her notebook cautiously, setting it on her desk as she glanced at you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked skeptically, lowering your voice to a whisper as your teacher started class at the front of the room. “if you didn’t want me to take it then why did you give it to me in the first place?”

the girl beside you shook her head, leaning her body closer. you stared at the outline of her tattoo as she said, “i wanted you to take it. i’m just nervous that you look at me differently now.” 

your eyebrows shot upward, both taken back and confused by her answer. “why would i even-” you turned to face her. “ellie, i don’t look at you ‘differently’ because you draw me. i think it’s rather sweet, actually.”

ellie was bewildered by your words, recalling what dina had said earlier about how she would have loved it if she were drawing her. maybe she had been right. licking her chapped lips, she shifted in her seat, as if she were going to say something, but snapped her head to the front when the teacher said her name sternly.

“miss williams i need you to pay attention, please. this has to do with the project, and i will not be happy when you decide to ask me something i already explained to the class,” the man up front lectured, making both you and ellie sit a little straighter in your seats.

you sent ellie an apologetic look when she glimpsed in your direction. as your teacher moved on from his scolding, you grabbed her sketchbook from her desk and flipped it open to a clean page, pen in hand.

meet me at my locker after school? you wrote quickly, pushing it over for her to see.

ellie grabbed the writing utensil you gave her. i have basketball practice after school :(

frowning, you exaggerated a sigh, shooting a playful eye roll her way as you scribbled out a reply. then i’ll come by the locker room after practice. there—problem solved.

problem solved. ellie wrote back with a grin, nodding at your solution.

“i am incredibly stupid. what was i even thinking?”

jesse was quick to shoot down your self-loathing, his shoulder brushing up against yours as he walked you in the direction of the girl's locker room. “no, you’re not. you were bold. there’s a difference.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line, cheeks slightly puffing out before you kissed the back of your teeth. anxiously running a hand over your face, you said, “well…is there really?”

“yes,” your friend quipped.

rolling your eyes, you shoved jesse jokingly as someone came walking out of the locker room. you instantly recognized dina in her cheerleading outfit, a knowing smile making its way onto your lips. the girl from your history class had always been super friendly.

“dina!” you called, earning a low groan from jesse.

the cheerleader grinned immediately, though you recognized its falter when she spotted her ex by your side. “hey! what’re you doing in the athletic building?” she made a show of not acknowledging jesse.

“i’m here for ellie!” you told her with a toothy smile, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack.

dina’s eyes widened with realization, but her bubbly appearance didn’t feign. she pointed a thumb toward the door she had come out of. “oh! she’s the last one still in the locker room, which i suppose you might’ve already known?”

shaking your head, you said, “yeah, i told her i’d meet her after basketball practice had finished.”

“well don’t let me keep you here then,” dina exclaimed, stepping out of the way to the door with the tiny woman’s symbol on it.

you nodded as you stepped past her, only looking over your shoulder to say, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“yep!” dina confirmed.

jesse shot you a reassuring grin as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallway that hosted the coaches’ offices.

heart beginning to race, you pulled the door handle to the locker room and forced your legs to move. the fluorescent lights were harsh against your eyes, your chest constricting with nerves as you walked past bathroom stalls, sinks, and floor-length mirrors. you couldn't remember the last time you had been in a locker room.

finally coming up on the athletic lockers (they were on a completely separate wall from the regular physical education lockers), you started to hear shuffling.

“ellie?” you called out, trying your best to not sound like you wanted to abandon this idea entirely.

as you passed a few more of the athletic cages, you spotted the girl you were searching for. her lack of a shirt made you balk.

turned toward the lockers, ellie passed a towel through her wet hair, arms tense with movement. you admired the taunt muscles of her back, her damp skin littered with small, but visible, freckles.

she hadn’t noticed your presence.

you cleared your throat promptly, offering her a smile when she turned around. trying not to be distracted by her toned arms and abdomen, you said, “hi ellie. hope i didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

she shook her head, mouth curling into something between a genuine grin and a satisfied smirk. “hey…and no, you caught me at a really good time, actually. practice ended about 45 minutes ago.”

nodding, you took a few steps closer. “yeah, i know. i asked a friend when practices normally end. figured me being a little ‘late’ would benefit. didn’t want to catch you before you had time to shower.”

“ouch,” she said, reaching to grab for her dirty practice t-shirt in her locker. ellie looked over her shoulder as you halted.

something about the way her eyes glinted made you deadpan, “if you throw that at me i will turn around and leave right now.”

chuckling to herself, ellie shook her head. “calm down, i’m not throwing anything at anyone.” she dramatically put the shirt and a pair of folded athletic shorts in a drawstring backpack before shoving it back into the locker.

“you are so annoying,” you snapped at her, moving to sit on the wooden bench placed directly in the middle nook of lockers. as you sat, you caught a whiff of sharp mahogany and cheap cologne.

ellie’s eyebrows raised, her shoulders leaning to press against the cool metal behind her. “and yet here you are, going out of your way to meet me in the back of the locker room after school.”

part of you was certain she made emphasis on the phrase ‘back of the locker room.’

shooting her a glare, though, you straightened as you said, “i said you were annoying, not that i didn’t like you.” there was a pregnant silence before you added, “besides, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go get coffee with me.” you watched ellie’s lips pull back in disgust, your heart dropping in an instant. “or not. sorry, i didn’t-”

“how about we go get dinner instead?” she interrupted. “coffee’s disgusting and i’m starving.”

blinking at her words, you licked your lips. “yeah. yes. that works.” it took you a moment to regain your composure. shit, i almost blew that. “i didn’t know you hated coffee.”

ellie turned and grabbed a hair tie. as she put half of her hair up—somehow in the most attractive way you might add—she said, “oh, yeah. that shit is gross.”

“um, have you even tried it?” you asked doubtfully, mouth forming into a frown. when the auburn-haired girl stayed quiet and instead clasped a thin silver chain around her neck you guessed her answer was clean no. 

you scoffed as you nudged her sock-covered foot. “i’m going to force you to try mine the next time i bring some.”

“sounds great,” ellie said sarcastically, a grin tugging on her lips. her smile sent chills sprawling down your spine.

shrugging off your backpack, you set it by your feet, muttering out a barely audible, “fuck.” you had no idea where this conversation was going, and your attempt at asking her out on a date had been a bust…sort of?

ellie had declined coffee and suggested dinner, but it still sounded like it fit more under the category of  ‘hangout as friends.’ talking to her was sometimes like talking to a brick wall. masc’s are so fucking clueless, you thought, releasing a heavy sigh through your nose. or maybe i’m not being obvious enough?

“what?” she asked at your suddenly agitated (as she’d describe it) attitude, wetting her chapped lips as she went to sit next to you. lifting a leg over the bench, she sat, body facing yours as she man-spreaded for comfort—her proximity and stature reminded you that she was still very much shirtless…and somehow way better at this (you weren’t sure what this even entitled) than you were.

goosebumps spread across the skin of your upper arms. you shifted, pulling up a knee to rest on the wood as you trailed off, eyes avoiding hers, “you’re just so…”

her head tilted, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. there was no way she didn’t notice the way you sucked in a breath. “i’m so what? look at me when you talk,” she said.

your gaze snapped toward hers, but first flickered to the swell of her mouth.

“i’m so what?” she repeated, her voice lowering an octave. when you said nothing, she added, “cat got your tongue?”

between her teasing and the adrenaline coursing through your body, you were compelled to do the only thing you could think of to shut her up—to make her drop the questions. swallowing the lump building in your throat, you grabbed her face, thumbs pressing against her warm cheeks, and kissed her with unmistakable want.

although ellie hadn’t expected for you to be so physically direct, she did not mind it at all. following the rough pace you had set, she kissed you back with just as much ferocity, her fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to slide herself forward and you closer.

you mewled at her movement, the pressure between your thighs growing as intensely as you were kissing her. she was quick to regain control of the situation you had thrust upon her.

“ellie,” you mumbled against her mouth, your eyes half-shut as she tugged on your jeans a second time.

“come here,” she told you hastily, lips trailing toward your left ear. “sit on my lap.” she kissed your temple. “please.”

shuddering at her request, you wasted no time in pulling away, pushing yourself off the bench, and situating your legs over hers in a straddle position.

the heat from ellie’s skin seeped through the fabric of your shirt, her hands slipping past the hem. you found yourself arching instinctively to her venturing touch, your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“you are going to make me go insane,” she confessed, her words coming out in a whisper, leaning in to kiss you again. her lips were gentler against yours, eager to savor the moment.

in turn, you indulged in letting your palms trace the sculpted muscles of her arms, fingers trailing every dip and curve from her years of work in the weight room. “you are so beautiful,” you told her delicately, relishing the way her skin burned under yours.

ellie followed the compliment, her hands finding your face and forcing you to look at her. green eyes etched with something between lust and admiration, she thumbed a corner of your mouth. “do you have any idea what you do to me?” she whispered. “from the moment you walked into that classroom…”

her words died in her throat and she swallowed thickly as you shook your head. “don’t do that. not here.”

“do what?” she questioned, adjusting her position on the bench.

the friction between your legs forced you to release a shaky breath, and you licked your lips in an attempt to focus on bringing your thoughts into coherent sentences. she was making it extremely hard. “i want to talk about this over dinner,” you told her hoarsely. “about what we are now. about what you want us to be.”

“are you saying you want to go on a date?” she asked quietly.

you couldn’t help your sudden smile. “i asked you earlier when i mentioned coffee, but you instantly shut that idea down.”

ellie rolled her eyes, though you could sense her pang of guilt. “you weren’t very clear on the date part. otherwise, i would’ve said yes immediately.”

surprise feigned your features. “you? saying yes to a coffee date?”

“oh, ha-ha.” she exaggerated the fake laugh. “and yes, had i known you were asking me out i would've sacrificed my comfort for your enjoyment. honestly, i think i do that quite often—as of right now i think my tailbone is being bruised.”

you sucked in harshly, moving off her with urgency as you shoved her shoulder with a hand. “why didn’t you say anything?!”

“and risk not feeling you up? yeah, no thanks.” her tone was definite.

your jaw fell slack as you crossed your arms over your chest, confounded by her response. “you can still feel me up without me in your lap, dummy.”

“yeah, but that sounds less fun,” ellie teased, holding up her hands in defense. she stood from her seat, reaching around you to grab her baseball t-shirt from earlier. as she put her arms through the sleeves she said, “i have a game tomorrow. you should come watch.”

you scrunched your nose jokingly, deciding to use her words against her. “and see you all sweaty? yeah, no thanks.”

ellie straightened out her shirt, shooting you a rather bemused look in the process. “how do you know you won’t like seeing me all sweaty and worn out?”

as she hunched down to pull on her converse, you exhaled heavily, unable to come up with something witty. mainly because she was right. you would totally like to see her all sweaty and worn out. so, with a slight bruise to your ego, you itched your nape, mumbling out, “i never said i wouldn’t like that. you always assume shit about me.”

“and you always assume shit about me, so we’re even,” ellie shot back, standing back up. she grabbed her backpack from inside the locker before changing the subject. “where do you wanna go for dinner?”

you shrugged, reaching down for your own bag. swinging it over a should, you said, “i don’t know. whatever you want. and you’re right, i do assume shit about you. like right now, for instance, i’m assuming you’re a picky eater.”

“i am not a picky eater.” she shut down your claim with a light kick to your shoe. “and fine, i’ll pick something and surprise you. did you drive to school today?”

you shook your head. “no.”

“great, looks like you’re sticking with me then.” she tried and failed to hide her cheeky smile. closing her locker, she grabbed your hand, hastily leading you toward the main hallway of the locker room. “come on.”

trailing after her, you felt your cheeks heat with the prompt realization of your reality. maybe you’d have to thank your earth and space teacher for assigning that stupid comet project. the steady growth of your relationship with ellie made your insides twist with pure excitement, and as she rambled about how much you would enjoy her restaurant of choice, you couldn't help but succumb to the feeling of pure bliss.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou2 #tlou ellie #tlou imagines #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #the last of us part two #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part ii #wlw #sapphic #the last of us ellie #the last of us oneshot

[cloudysleepingzone]

Heya^^ could we possibly get some romantic hcs about dazai, atsushi, and possibly fyodor with a artist s/o, they sometimes doodle on unimportant papers when the meetings are way too boring for them , and sometimes when they have free time they draw their lover in their sketchbook, maybe a painting or two of their lover <3 anyways love your writing and don't forget to hydrate! Have a wonderful day or night!!

BSD with an Artist S/O

Decided to add Chuuya and Tecchou due to a very similar request!

Contents : Dazai, Atsushi, Fyodor, Chuuya and Tecchou x Reader (separate), gender neutral reader (they/them used), fluff, suggestive for Dazai's part and sorta Tecchuu? Not really. Pet Names.

Dazai Osamu

Doesn't matter what your drawing, he's watching.

Can you blame him though? He just loves watching his lover just doing something they enjoy!

If you draw him he will start acting like a dramatic prince for a solid 10 minutes.

"(Name), draw me like one of your French girls~"

You sit quietly at your desk, the surface covered with your sketchbook and a handful of pencils and pens. "Belllaaa~!" Though your peace is interrupted by your loving boyfriend trying to get out of doing his job again. "What are you drawing beautiful?" He leans over you, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he props his chin on your shoulder. The sketchbook page had small doodles of the two of you, mostly just small cute doodles of holding hands, Dazai tilts his head slight to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "You know, if you need any ideas you could always draw us with less clothes~"

Atsushi Nakajima

Our sweet boy

He's so supportive of your work he loves seeing the look on your face when you make something your proud of

You draw him? Oh boy...he can't even form words

"You're getting even better sweetheart, you keep improving!"

Your a mess, your finger tips covered in different shades of blue and grey, just like the tip of your paintbrush. Atsushi was behind the canvas, laying comfortably on your shared bed with a soft smile on his lips. "Am I doing alright? I'm not moving too much?" He was doing an amazing job. A perfect job. "Your doing good sweetheart, I'm almost done". You've drawn him from memory plenty of times before, but it feels so much more romantic with him right in front of you. "You look really pretty when your focused..." He mumbles under his breath, even if your the one painting him, he's the one doing the most admiring <3

Fyodor Dostoevsky

To a non familiar eye he seems completely uninterested or even annoyed at your interests. But that's far from true

He adores your work though he sucks at showing it

Got a piece you're really proud of? Yep he's putting it in a fancy frame

You? Drawing him? Aren't you just a sweetheart...

It was already late at night, the curtains had been drawn and you were currently in the shower. Meanwhile your husband Fyodor was already dressed in something more comfortable and was waiting for his dear. Fyodors finger tips gently run over the cover of your current sketch book, which laid on top of a desk in your shared bedroom. He picks up the sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly before a certain page catches his eye, a page seemingly dedicated to just him. His normally cold and hard gaze softens a bit at the sight, some being full line art and color and others being simple messy doodles. His admiring is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Sweetheart what are you doing?". Your husband gently closes your sketchbook, setting it down onto the expensive hard work surface. "Just admiring your work my dear..."

Chuuya Nakahara

New art supplies? He's buying it. You want a new set of expensive as hell paint brushes? Pfft, pocket change.

If you even mention getting into a new form of art he's already handing you his credit card without another question.

"It looks pretty already doll, make sure to show me when it's done yea?"

Like Fyodor, he puts his favorite pieces in fancy frames <3

You walk into Chuuya's at home office, not bothering to knock (not like he minds) "Chuuya, I finished that painting you wanted to see!" He slowly turns his chair around, a small smirk on his face, completely ignoring his task of sorting through files for now. "Let me see it babe". You turn the canvas around, showing him your paintwork you've spent a few weeks on. He stand from his seat, walking up to you and placing a gloved hand on your cheek, planting a loving kiss on the other. "It looks beautiful sweetheart, just like you. I'll be hanging it up." Chuuya had already started a small selection of your art that was displayed in fancy gold and silver frames over a fireplace, in the style as if they were million dollar paintings. To him they may as well be, to him your art is priceless. Your priceless.

Tecchou Suehiro

You could make something weird and he'll like it

He will just silently watch you draw whatever, doesn't matter what.

"That looks good sweetheart"

Drawing him? God I don't know if his heart can take something so sweet!

Here you are, sitting on your boyfriend's back while he does sit ups. It was actually pretty normal at this point. The only sounds in the room was the huffs coming from Tecchuu throat and the sounds of pencil scratching against paper. "Hm...maybe I should draw you like this, it would be pretty good anatomy practice" you quickly sketch up some messy line art you can fix later, shifting slightly to show Tecchuu. "Huff Looks good" Despite the slight strain in his muscles he's able to respond pretty easily. I get up from your seat on his back, letting him get up with a groan before stretching his arms. Moving your pencil back to the paper, you continue to look from your boyfriend to the paper back and forth. "This is a bit better" you your sketch book around, it was just a simple sketch of his muscular figure but it was like fine art in his eyes. "You've been improving a lot haven't you?"

#fanfic #fluff #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fanfic #atsushi x reader #request #atsushi nakajima x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #fanfiction #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd tecchou #tecchou x reader #bungou stray dogs tecchou #tecchou suehiro x reader

[ataraxiaspainting]

Shameless.

Yan Chrollo x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Chrollo is many things; annoying, chatty, selfish, petty. Especially petty.

Warnings: Yandere themes and kidnapping.

Word Count: 700.

“Petty, much?”

The damn devil doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he turns to the next chapter of his book, a book large enough to easily force you or any other ordinary person into a yearlong coma if it hits your head. His humming physically hurts your ears and almost makes their drums burst, you are sure of it. You would much rather listen to his trill sonata from a gramophone and disc that is at least five times your age.

You cannot find the stuffed animal you normally sleep with. You have been looking all day while this clone of the antichrist just sits and reads in whatever the hell that language on the dusty cover is. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had made it himself, it’s only further proof that he is just an old man on the inside. Or at least half; the other part may as well be a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

Maybe less than half, now that you think about it. That plush was a gift from Chrollo to you, after all, a symbol of how adorable you are or something else in that vein that made his face all the more punchable. The bunny made for a good pillow and could be used as a sort of wall whenever the epitome of hell lays on the bed beside you, trying to converse or cuddle with you. 

It certainly yielded better results than biting, kicking, and hitting him at least. Your knuckles and palms still sometimes hurt. Ow. His flesh is made of iron, you know it. Maybe you should dare him to get his DNA tested to ensure that he is indeed human before speaking with you again. 

You could fake an allergic reaction to automatons perhaps. Even though you were never a drama kid in school you think you can still pull it off. 

You can craft yourself an Emmy using what remains of your old art supplies, though that would require having Chrollo cut the papers and cardboard for you. You bet that if he is a robot, he will eventually use up all his battery by chatting away and then shutting down. 

“What are you, a kindergartener?” You move closer to his unholy throne, stomping with each step forward. “Stop acting like you are eight, you swindler, and give it back.”

It would be easier that way if he went unconscious because of his powerless charge. 

If you are feeling particularly sadistic you could use electric shocks on his unconscious tin can of a body until it explodes. It would be a great thing, the sound. Like fireworks, if you avoid getting stabbed by tiny slabs of hot metal.

“Kindergarteners are ages five to six.” You could picture dreaming of it now if you can go to sleep tonight. “Eight-year-olds are typically in the grades second and third.”

“So you do admit to stealing it, then. This trial has now concluded, you have been sentenced to life without parole.”

You can hear a slight chuckle that makes you want to fall down the stairs while playing jump rope. Anything to make sure you never hear it again. “You get points for effort, darling. That wasn’t a confession, I was just correcting your utterly adorable libel.”

“Don’t talk like that to your judge, you larcenist.”

“I see you have been reading the books I have given you.”

You grumble a curse under your breath as you walk a bit closer. “It is amazing what the human mind can remember from a dictionary when there is nothing better to do. I think if I ever see my literary teacher again she’d be impressed. I’d pass with flying colors if I ever had to retake her class.”

At the sight of your laid-out hand, a slight frown appears on Chrollo’s face. “Being polite never hurt anyone, you know.”

You scoff and cross your arms, not looking at him anymore. “It hurts me every time I say anything to you instead of trying to find out how to give you enough papercuts to make you internally bleed.” 

Underneath the table, you can see the rabbit plush, and crouch down to grab it.

“Take this as an act of precaution then; don’t test my limits, dear.” As soon as you look into his eyes, hugging the stuffed animal, you look away as you see what lies beneath the surface once more. 

Nothing.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe #chrollo hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #yandere hxh x reader #hxh #ideas #author aya

[lostfirefly]

I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me

Hey, hey, guys! Sorry, I decided to take a short break and was finishing up the last things at work. A short and sweet fic. I'm sure many writers have had this kind of story, but I wanted to dedicate this fluffiness to you, my reader :) Pain leads me to art :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and Fem.Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup.

WC: 1501

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “My Escape” by Ravenscode.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sitting on the bed with a book when you heard the door to the cabin open with a creak and the sound of heavy footsteps reached you. A couple of minutes later, there was a heavy sigh.

“My love, is that you?” You asked, getting out of bed.

In response, you heard another sigh. You followed the sounds and saw Buggy standing with his back pressed against the door, his eyes closed.

“Good evening, Captain!” You smiled and grabbed his hand.

“Uh-huh.” He muttered without opening his eyes.

“Hard day?” You asked softly.

“Uh-huh.”

You silently pulled his hand towards the bedroom. Buggy tried to resist (but you knew perfectly well that he was faking), but in the end he trailed after you. You took off his coat and hung it on the chair. You took his hand again and sat him down on the bed.

“Love of my life, do you want anything?” You asked, taking off his captain's hat and bandana.

“Drink up.” He answered dryly. “Sometimes it seems to me that this is not a crew, this’s a bunch of idiots.”

“Do not say that.” You kissed the top of his head and walked towards the small bar. “What happened?”

“Everyone is poorly performing their duties, Y/N. That's what happened.” He barked. 

“I'm sure everything will be fine, Buggy. You are the heart of this beautiful ship, and you couldn't have it any other way.” You twisted the bottles slightly, choosing which one could lift his mood today. “Oh, this will be good!”

You picked up a large bottle of rum that you had recently bought especially for him when the ship docked on the island for a couple of days to replenish supplies. “I can't find a glass for rum. Can I pour it into a glass for whiskey or beer?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“My jelly bean, did you hear what I said? A bunch of idiots. The glass won’t help me. Bring the whole bottle.” Buggy placed his hands on his knees and rested his face in his hands.

“Wow, you're clearly very upset today. Ok.” You took the bottle and walked back to the bed. “Here you go, old grump.” You handed him it.

Buggy raised his head. “I'm not old!” He reached out, took the rum and sipped from the neck of the bottle. “That's better now. Thank you!”

He took your hand and pulled you onto his lap. “Well, what have you been doing all day, Y/N?” Buggy wrapped one hand around your waist. 

“Oh, I read the book, tidied up a little and mended your socks.” You started stroking his cheek. 

“Socks?” He took a sip of rum, looked at you and began stroking your back with his hand.

“Your socks are all full of holes, Buggy. A ship's captain shouldn't wear socks with holes.” You kissed his cheek and stroked his hair. “I'd like to comb you. Your hair is tangled.” You whispered.

“Nah, I'm fine, my gumdrop.” He took another sip and pecked your lips.

“God! At least wipe your mouth after drinking rum before you kiss me, Buggy.” You laughed and wiped your lips with your palm. “How can you drink this shit?” You stroked his hair again. “No, I’ll comb you. It’s impossible.” You got up from his lap and was about to go to the night table to get a comb when you felt him dragging you back.

“Get your ass back to where it was a second ago. I'm fine!” He pulled you towards him.

“A couple more days and you’ll be like a stray kitten, covered in tangles.” You pulled your hand away and went for a comb.

“Kittens are usually adorable.” He answered laughing.

“I’ll comb you, period. What if you decided to take over the island tomorrow? Will you run around scaring the residents in holey socks and with mats on your head? Sorry, honey, but that’s not how I imagine a scary captain.” You returned and sat behind him on the bed. “Sit still.”

“Oh my god. Why do you like brushing me so much, Y/N?” Buggy rolled his eyes, trying to remove your hands from his head.

“You'll be surprised, but I love your hair as much as I love you. Sit still!” You began to carefully run the comb through his long blue hair, listening to his endless grumbling. You took small strands of hair in your hands, trying to unravel the tangles as gently as possible.

“Ouch, it hurts!” Buggy grumbled when he felt the comb get stuck on one of the tangles.

“Sorry, my love. This is a real tumbleweed here. You know, I think I'll do this every evening. You can resist as much as you like, but you won’t convince me.” You ran the comb through your hair two more times. “Here! I did it! You’re grumbling at me in vain.”

Gently running your hands through his hair, you felt him instinctively adapt to your movements.

“You like this?” You asked, pecking him on the cheek again. There was no answer, but you noticed a slight smile on his face. “I knew it!”

You continued to comb his hair, listening to his quiet snoring. It seemed that he had fallen into a light nirvana.

“Well, I'm done.” You ran your fingers through his long hair. “Excellent!” You looked over his shoulder and looked at his face. Buggy sat with his eyes closed with a smile on his face. You gently ran your fingertip across his cheek. “I think now I need to take off your makeup.”

Buggy suddenly opened his eyes and looked at you with his green eyes. “Y/N! No!”

“Yes!”

“I said no!”

“Stop arguing with me. You haven't taken off your makeup for three days. You just put on new makeup every morning on top of the old one. No! Today, I'm declaring a spa day for Captain Buggy.” You crawled on your knees to the bedside table and pulled out a huge bag with various tonics from the drawer. “Holy God! So many things.” You were sorting through the bottles. “Oh. This one with chamomile will be good!” You rose from the bed and stood in front of him, applying lotion to a cotton pad.

“No, jelly bean, please!” Buggy looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Nah, I'm not listening to you.” You gently took his chin with your hand and pecked him on the lips. “Don’t be afraid, my love. I won’t tell anyone that I see you without makeup.”

Buggy sighed sadly, realizing that he could not win in this verbal struggle, and closed his eyes. You pecked him on the lips again, on his red nose, and ran the cotton pad over his face.

“See how great you are.” You soaked a new cotton pad in lotion and gently ran it over his cheeks again, washing away the blue and white layers of his makeup. “Okay. Now the lips.”

“I know another way we can get rid of my lipstick. If you know what I mean.” He chuckled idiotically without opening his eyes.

“I understand perfectly what you mean. I washed this method of yours from myself in the shower yesterday.” You took out a new lotion from your makeup bag. “Sit still, Buggy.”

You ran the pad over his lips, also removing the red marks of lipstick around his mouth. “And here you are, my love!” You carefully examined his face. “You are so handsome.” You put the discs and lotions aside.

Buggy blushed the color of his nose. “Don’t say that. I'm not handsome.”

“I’m telling the truth.” You sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Have I ever lied to you? No! I think you're handsome from the moment we first met. Remember? You stood up for me at the bar when some fat slug was hitting on me. And you came up and punched him in the face.” You kissed his cheek. 

“Because no one dares to molest my woman!” Buggy kissed you in your lips. 

“To my woman.” You chuckled. “We hadn't even met at that moment.”

“What difference does it make?” Buggy shrugged his shoulders. “I immediately decided that you would be mine. This is the captain’s word and I never break it.”

You gazed into his eyes, stroking his hair. “I love you.”

“Well, what can I say? I love you too.”

“Will you always love me?” You narrowed your eyes playfully. 

“Of course always. The captain's word.” Buggy kissed your neck and then your lips. “And since you bullied me today, it's time to pay back.” He abruptly threw you onto the bed and lay down on top of you. “Gotcha!” 

“Wait! I thought we were gonna take a shower!” You wrapped your arms and legs around him. 

“The shower will wait.” He smiled mysteriously and began to run his finger along your neck.

“Oh, shit! Buggy!!!”

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

[brandogenius]

happy 20th birthday to myself! here is a little gift from me ! a little thank you for enjoying my writing and the different fics / headcanonsy ive made! thank you all :D

Birthday Surprise.

‼️RPF‼️

Julien x reader

description: Julien plans something special for your birthday

word count: 1,163

Julien woke up a bit early than expected for a normal day off work. the sun was shining through the window. gold hues hitting her arms and face like liquid gold kissing her skin. the faint sound of the birds chirping outside made her relax slightly. tattooed arms wrapped around your frame. one hand in your hair, twirling small strands of your hair around her fingers and the other wrapped around your waist.

moments like these were what julien loved the best. being able to lay here in a comfortable silence at the early morning with you, she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

today was more than a normal day off work however. it was your birthday. one year older than you were before. it was a special day in juliens eyes. she had a plan to make sure it would be the best day ever.

as much as the older wanted to stay in bed, holding onto you and twirling your hair for a little bit longer, she knew she needed to get up. step one of her plan was to make a special breakfast for you. googling recipes and pinterest inspiration the night before, saved onto her boards. julien quietly and slowly detangled herself from the mess of legs and the duvet sheet. thanking the gods you were a deep sleeper. julien placed the duvet cover up over your shoulders, placing a quick kiss to your forehead as she made her way to the bedroom door, quietly opening it just a crack and sliding out into the hallway.

soft pattering of sock covered feet creek under the wood stairs as julien makes her way down into the kitchen. shoving her hair into a ponytail, julien starts to work on preparing breakfast. nothing too extravagant but nothing too simple. freshly made pancakes with chocolate covered strawberries she made the night before.

soft music filled the air from the record player in the living room. turned down just enough to not wake you but enough for the tattooed woman to hear faintly in the kitchen.

the summer chill breezes past julien. the windows were halfways opened. the faint smell of morning dew grass filled her nose alongside the smell of the fresh flowers perched on top of the window sill. having both recently moved into a small house you both call home. decorating it to fit the aesthetic both of you loved. natural light was something julien loved in the morning.

something about a free summers morning had juliens chest filled with happiness and giddiness. knowing days like this dragged out longer. sitting out in the back garden until nine pm on a saturday night, drinking cold water and listening to the birds fly from the small birdhouse she built last summer for you. julien sitting on a chair, guitar on lap, lyric sheets and notes sprawled across the table. across from her you paint on watercolour paper with art supplies littering the small table. brushing hair behind your face, you huff. the small gusts of winds knocking some stray strands of hair over your face. julien chuckling to herself, handing you her sun glasses to place in your head.

julien shook the memory out of her head for a quick moment. focusing her attention back on the cooking batter in front of her. she wanted to make this special for you. breakfast in bed was something you normally did for julien. days when the musician would be free from a hard days work in the studio or coming back from a world tour, you wanted to treat your girlfriend to something special. julien would always be shocked. appreciating the effort you made for her, thanking you with a small kiss to the lips as you settled back into your shared bed with her. julien sipping on her coffee whilst you caught up on the latest chapter of your book.

last years birthday was a bit different. choosing to spend your birthday with julien on tour, it wasn’t as delicate and more intimidate as it is this year. hosting a small surprise birthday for you at the backstage venue the boys were playing. julien having asked lucy to bring you shopping for the day in a state you’ve never been to while phoebe and julien blow up balloons and carefully hang up banners across the dressing room walls.

it was perfect. you thought it was perfect. julien however, had higher expectations. wanting to make it perfect, wishing she could’ve done something more but you were quick to calm the spiral she was getting herself into by exclaiming it was the best thing anyone has ever done for you.

julien finished making the pancakes. quickly placing them on a plate, drilling syrup over the desserts. delicately placing the chocolate fruit on the side of the plate and placing the rest into a little bowl on the side of the tray. filling a glass of orange juice, she places a small vase of your favourite flowers onto the tray as well.

presentation may not be her strongest trait but as long as it looked pretty, she knew you’d love it as well. a small wave of nerve fill her tummy as she grabbed the tray, heading upstairs back to your shared room. what if you didn’t like it? what if it didn’t taste good? julien couldn’t help but overthink every so often. always stressed about wanting to make things perfect. you deserved the best things. not half assed things that weren’t edible.

the small spiral came to a halt. quietly walking back into the bedroom, she found you awake. propped up onto the pillow, book in hand. you turned over with a shocked expression on your face, julien standing at the doorway, small blush on her face.

“happy birthday, princess” julien grinned, making her way to the bed. you quickly put your bookmark on the page you just recently started, tossing the book aside onto juliens side of the bed. “you made this for me?” you looked over at your girlfriend with a smile. julien places the tray of food onto your lap, moving the covers as she curled into the bed beside you.

“thought you deserved something special on your birthday” juliens cold hands reached over, grabbing your chin gently as she pressed her lips against yours in a gentle kiss. you broke away from the kiss, quickly tearing off a piece of the pancake and eating it.

“thank you my love.”

all the worries and doubts julien had now disappeared in a puff of smoke. seeing you happy and content made it all worth it. the tattooed musician settled down in the bed, head laying on your shoulder as she scrolled through her phone. the sound of small laughter filled the bedroom. juliens phone sitting up on the phone as the two of you catch up on your favourite podcasts new episode.

this was definitely one of your favourite mornings so far

#pom writes #julien baker x reader #julien baker au #julien baker one shot #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #boygenius au #boygenius fanfic #boygenius one shot #boygenius x reader #julien baker x fem!reader

[pinkydevil16]

can you do one where xavier is panting on readers nude body

Xavier Thorpe x reader

"You want my art tattooed on you?" Xavier stared at Y/n as she laid on his bed, his t shirt covering her.

"Yep! I've been thinking about it for a while, i want a rib to ankle tattoo, of your art. Can you draw it for me?" Xavier nodding grabbing his supplies, brushes and pens all laid out as he picked up his largest art book before Y/n placed her hand on it and pushed it under the bed with a smirk.

"What are ya doing?" Xavier asked, a soft smile on his face as Y/n leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Draw it on me." Xavier's eyebrows raised for moment before he smirked and got up, pushing Y/n back on the bed as she squealed and laughed, Xavier kissing her deeply as he ran his hands along her thighs. Parting as he sat back, collecting a paint brush and palette in his hand before tapping it against his lips.

"Which leg? Also you might have to pull my top up a bit so i can get to your ribs." Y/n grinned, Xavier's eyes on her as she slowly pulled his shirt up, lacey underwear underneath as Y/n slowly pulled his shirt off her body and laid in only her underwear. Arm above her head as she blew Xavier a kiss and got comfy, turning to he could paint her thigh and ribs without moving her too much. Xavier staring before clearing his throat with a little shake of his head.

"This leg, draw whatever you want Baby." Xavier nodded scooting closer as he gripped her thigh, dipping his paintbrush in and doing his first stroke, Y/n breathing in as she watched Xavier, his hand gripping her thigh tightly as he painted along her skin. Y/n felt the brush graze over her skin, his fingers ghosting with it, goosebumps following his hands.

Y/n laid quietly, Xavier concentrating as he added on the last details, the sun had set and now the room glowed orange as Xavier sat back with a smile and pushed his hair back, paint on his fingers and face as he looked over Y/n.

"All done." Xavier smiled proudly as Y/n slowly got off the bed, moving to stand in front of his mirror with a wide smile, turning to look at him as she spoke.

"Bring my phone over please." Xavier nodded, her phone in his hand as he admired her, Y/n taking it as she turned back to the mirror, turning to the side as she showed off the tattoo. Taking a few pictures before she noticed Xavier's face, a smirk on hers as she grabbed his hand, placing it on her breast as she waited for him to do the same on the other.

"Don't need anyone else seeing them when i post this." Xavier laughed as Y/n leaned into him, moving her thigh to cover her underwear and show off the drawing as Xavier's hands covered her chest and took a photo. Showing Xavier as she posted it to instagram, snapchat and sent it to Enid.

"It's perfect baby, i love it." Xavier grinned as he kissed her cheek, Y/n turning her head and kissing him deeply as Xavier began rolling her breasts in his hand and pulling her into him. "As much as i love seeing you covered in my art, i think i'm going to have to smudge it all." Y/n let out a giggle as Xavier picked her up from behind, kissing her neck and cheek loudly as he dropped her onto the bed. Playfully kissing her as he smudged the paint onto her cheek, Y/n rolling her eyes as she laughed pulling him back to her as she wrapped her legs around him.

#xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday xavier #xavier thorpe #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #wednesday series

[sugarsfics]

Painting Together

Summary: Your next-door neighbor comes over; he needs some help painting. There are some pros and cons. Pros you are great at painting. Con you have the biggest crush on him. 

Trope: Eddie x reader; Friends to lovers 

Warning: use of y/n, kissing, fluff, bad writing  

Word count: 1.0k 

30 Day challenge: Day 5 Send request <3 

It was a beautiful gloomy day, there was a nice sprinkle outside. You are currently cuddled up in bed reading a book when there was a knock at your door. You place your book down then ventured out into the living room, you open and were met with big brown eyes those you belonged to your neighbor Eddie Munson. “Hey” he spoke first “Hi” “Um so I was bored and thought maybe I should come bother you because you are probably also bored” you laughed “Yea ok come on in” he closed the door after himself “What’s in the bag” you asked him pointing and his black backpack “Oh my d&d stuff I need to paint some figurines for the next campaign plus finish the campaign “Are you using me too paint your little toys” “What no” he said sarcastically “You are wow and to think that you just wanted to hang out with little o’me but no you must use me” you said dramatically “No I-I really do want to hang out I just I-“ “Relax Munson I love painting and helping you out”  “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you” “Your my friend” his heart dropped yea just friends but he wanted too be more “Plus you could never use me how much the cheerleaders used me back in high school"

That is where you and Eddie met. You were the artist he was the freak You were on the student council your job was making posters for clubs and any events that were going on. You were used people being nice to you to do their homecoming proposals or to make their club sign extra. But Eddie wasn’t like that, he started developing a crush on you the moment he walked into first period. You were wearing a pair of light pink converse with drawings all over, some paint cover overalls and a black tee under along with some paint sprinkled on your arms and cheeks. When your eyes meet with his for the first time he swore it stopped for 5 seconds and that he died and went to heaven. The love at first sight moment was ruined went Mason Carver bumped into him “move freak” After class we walked out a was met with a poster JOIN OR MAKE A CLUB, with the same colors that you were covered in. That is how Hellfire was born. It took many people to convince to start the club but, in the end, he got his club, they directed him to you to make your club poster for club rush the next week. He bonded with you over the week of making the logo and posters he even helped with the other clubs, he didn’t dare to touch anything to do with sports. After that week, your friendship blossomed. But you both wanted more but never said anything.

You brought him into your room, he sat on your floor as you went into your closet to grab your art supplies. “Ok who am I painting today” “Well.... This is a Merrow they are mermaids or merman. They carry spears and here is the handbook for his colors” as you painted Eddie would tell you about the roles each person or creature was playing in his campaign. Eddie looked too cute when he was focused, his tongue was poking out, intrusive thoughts took over and you grabbed your paint brush and poked his nose. He looked at you stunned you thought he was mad until he grabbed a brush and poked your cheek, a poking war start any open flesh had color dots on them. You fell back has Eddie tried to poke your forehead, then felt a sharp pain in your lower back “Ow” “Are you ok” he was panicking thinking he hurt you, but in realty you fell on one of his figures “All good just landed on this little guy” you said holding it up "Oh wow this one looks just like you” the one had long hair dressed as a knight. “Um yea that my character he needs to be clean up bit but yea” “Aw he’s cute” you're cute you both think. He went into his bag and another figure fell out “Oh who is this” it was a girl she has your colored hair about the same length as you, a white dress flowy dress was this me you thought “Oh um that is um Eddie the banished fair maiden” he says sheepishly “What are her traits or strengths” “Um she helps patches up Eddie the banished after battle, she as a power where her food that she packs for him heals him and his wounds, and” he didn’t look you in the eye for the last part “she is really good a painting and drawing” you didn’t want to ask him just in case it wasn’t true but you really wanted to know “Eddie” “Yes” “Is she based off someone” your heart was pounding “Would it be weird if it was” he asked here goes nothing “What's her name” “um l-l-lady y/n” he said lowly “You made a character after me” couldn’t form any word he just nodded. 

He hasn’t looked at you since his confession “Eddie look at me please” he slowly looked at you “I think it is really sweet” you grabbed his hand “You don’t think it is weird that I made you my character fair maiden” “No I would be your fair maiden in any universe if you wanted me too” his eyes widen please don’t be dreaming he thought “I-I” he was speechless you smiled at him that made him melt. You did something that you only dreamed of you grabbed Eddie’s face and kissed him, he quickly kissed back and pulled you closer to him. He didn’t want it to end, but unfortunately people need air to live, and he was lacking that then. He pulled away with a lovesick smile, you pressed kisses all over his face till it was a deep red “Does this mean we are dating” you asked, “If you keep kissing me like that, I will be your anything” “So boyfriend?” “Yea girlfriend?” “Yes” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie my beloved #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x introvert reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #sugarsfics

[dark-is-d3ad]

OK, I'm moving soon, and I'm currently sitting in the middle of my ravaged flat surrounded by boxes, jars, and all sorts of things you never know you even had before it's time to go pack them up.

So here's a bunch of soapghost headcanons about moving in together.

• They end up helping each other to pack things. The flat they chose is a two-bed in Epping, really close to the forest. Easy to get to when they come back for a break, technically still in London, but in a quieter area on the outskirts of the city. Ghost checked for a multitude of things, including ways to get in and to retreat, hidden cameras, and he's making a custom surveillance system for it. You can never be too safe, right?

• The second bedroom is going to become Johnny's art studio. Ghost has dibs on the living room, he's got a huge TV and a PS5. And his humongous bookshelf will also go in there. They plan it out perfectly, so that they can spend time together, but also can have their alone time without bothering each other.

• Ghost refuses help at first, but then Johny just shows up with his portable speaker, and hangs out with him. It's a little distracting, and he has way too many books, they run out of boxes. Ghost never tells him, but he's grateful, it was getting overwhelming.

• Ghost's place looks neat, if not a little barren, his things are all sorted to perfection. He's got a collection of shotguns, too. And a huge table, perfect size to work on them comfortably. Cleaning and servicing guns never fails to calm him down. His favourite is an older one, a Benelli M2. It's in pristine condition albeit a little worn, its barrel needs to be changed because it can only last through so much shots, but Ghost kinda wants to keep it as it is, even though it's not practical. He's sentimental about it. They spend a lot of time packing them all up carefully.

• Johny actually asks him to come over, because his adhd gets unmanageable when he goes through all his things, and it's easier if a very specific person makes him stay on track, otherwise he'd be still stuck there reading his diaries and going through his pile of sketchbooks, and oh, the drawing supplies, he has the urge to use that beautiful box of designer gouache his sister gifted to him literally right now because he forgot about it, and now it's so tempting. Ghost thinks of it as of a mission, so he comes up with a strategy and keeps it tactical. And he makes Soap take breaks every once in a while.

• Soap's stuff doesn't fit into the van. Even with the furniture dismantled and packed, he's got so much things, a lot of them art supplies, a huge easel, half-finished paintings, canvases he forgot about or he hadn't had time to come back to. And his bed is freaking huge. They finally cram it in, but it's a really tight squeeze. Comparing to this, Ghost's was half-empty. Thank god their new place is on the bigger side.

• Ghost gets distracted, too, when they pack the paintings. He's not an artsy kinda guy, yet they are so good, he's entranced. It's Johnny's turn to make him focus. Soap doesn't think much of his art, and Ghost makes a mental note to compliment it more often. He really wants to see more. Hell, he'd even pose, if Soap ever asks for it. He won't tell him though.

• There's a "do not touch" black sketchbook with a little white scull drawn on the cover, and Soap flushes deep red and packs it away in record times. Ghost is intrigued beyond measure. He has assumptions of what's in there, and he sneakily checks it out when Soap goes to pack his clothes. It's full of sketches of him. Soap actually took his time to study him, he thinks, even the tattoos are all looking exactly right. The ones from the shower make him wonder if Soap actually memorised him that well or he got some sneaky reference pics (how did he manage that, the bastard). It's got notes, too. It takes an effort not to read them, but Ghost feels like he already intruded a bit too much, so he puts the sketchbook back where it was. Just in time, because Soap pops out with an absolutely ridiculous coat in his hands, and goes "hey, look what I used to wear when I was 18!"

• Ghost has a freaking lot of random jars. They're all empty. When asked about it, he confesses that he wanted to make jam, his grandfather used to make a lot of it every summer. It's one of the good memories he has, and there's not so many of them. He tried to make it once, but failed, and had to throw away the whole batch. They keep each and every one, although it seems stupid.

• Johnny's art stuff is a whole lot. He's got tree branches and clay, and a fucking mannequin (it scares Ghost every time he walks in Soap's living room, because his side vision registers it as a person, and he can't get over it). The mannequin has a crooked smiley face drawn on it with a sharpie. There's sheets of metal, fabric, a lot of acrylic, and a ton of instruments. He was trying to get into modern sculpture, Soap says, it didn't really work out. Needs more 3d thinking. Ghosts proposes to try again after they move. He's good at fixing stuff, and he's really good at guerilla warfare, they'll find a way to make even the weirdest thing Soap comes up with hold together.

• Soap's got little led garlands wrapped on every vertical thing at his place. At first Ghost thinks it's stupid, but when the night comes, and Soap lights all of them up, it actually feels almost magical. They sit on the floor with mugs of tea and coffee, and, although it's messy and everything is moved out of place, it's still beatiful, and it feels so safe. Ghost finds himself feeling more like a 5 y o than he probably ever did, sitting there just watching lights slowly light up and fade. He's never been good at making his places cozy. He'll ask Soap to work on their new flat to make it more like that. He really wants the lights there, too.

• Johnny's mugs are all different. He's got the "guns and coffee" with a redrawn Starbucks logo, the mermaid holds two pistols. Ghost gets the "under all your tattoos you're still a mainstream cunt" one when it's Johnny's turn to make tea. He pretends to be offended. There is a pink one with "unt" on it. It makes sense when Soap turns it, and the handle finishes the word. There's one with lots of bees, and it reads "bear daddy". Ghost makes the stupidest jokes about it.

• Ghost hasn't got a lot of kitchenware, and all his plates and mugs are white, the cheapest ones from IKEA. And he's only got one chair. No guests - no need. Johnny finds it a little depressing, but says nothing.

• Johnny's spicerack is probably the second biggest collection he has after his art stuff. He likes cooking, and he likes trying new recipes. His favourite go-tos sit separately on the kitchen counter. Ghost has to admit that he's really good. Ghost's spices are just salt and pepper, which gets him "and you live like that? Lt!" from Soap.

• When they finally move their stuff in, a call from Price comes. There's things to do like right now, get ready in 5, be at base in an hour and a half. Ghost likes his work, yet he can't help but get a little grumpy. He really wanted to get it over with. And to see what comes out of it with all things in place. And to have a chill evening with Johnny, watching these little lights again with some quiet ambient playing on the background. "It's OK," Soap says, "we'll get it sorted when we come back."

OK, that's gonna be it for now, I have a sad option and a silly option to go for, but I'd rather make a part two and separate them.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #headcanon #moving

[anamelessfool]

Valentine's Day 1985

I wanted to feature some platonic/family Valentine's Day drabbles, since that's how I personally like the holiday. Primo and 8-year old Copia from my AU. I'm dedicating this one to @ghuleh-recs because they have have done so much for the community and inspired me to just go big.

I have three planned! Let's keep the love going! Ficlet/Drabble Below the cut!

It was nearly afternoon and Copia could not find Primo anywhere. Copia had been waiting for him back in their shared cell, art supplies in hand. Primo always woke earlier than everyone else, off to do some chore or other. On the other side of the cell was Primo’s bed, neatly made. Primo didn't collect much— just a few of Copia’s paper sculptures on his nightstand, a framed photo of his mother. His watch was there too, which meant he was out on a run. So that could be it. On bad days he would be out running for hours. Copia unfolded his carefully cut art project, scrutinizing the shapes and folds of the little dolls linking arms. He had hidden his craft supplies in a shoebox under his bed, doing his best to work in secret lest his brother discover his surprise.

“Down in the kitchen, maybe,” Copia said to his three rats in the nearby cage. It was cold and so they continued to nap in their pile of felt and fur. Copia got to his feet, tucking the card in his book and shoving the whole thing under his arm. After his little doorknob-tapping ritual (once for his rats, twice for bravery, three times for luck) he was out and en route to the dining hall.

“Came in from his jog,” recalled Sister Agatha as Copia found her in the dining hall. She gestured over to the spotless kitchen. “Then noticed the range needed cleaning.”

“And he was here?”

“Oh, about two hours too long,” chuckled Agatha. “Then he fixed that knocking going on in the fridge. Then back out the door. And that was that.” She shuffled over to a tinfoil-covered plate and pulled out a little something for the boy. A heart-shaped cookie, decorated with pink crystals of sugar. “Don't forget this on your way out, Mr. Holmes.”

“Thank you.” Copia inserted the cookie into his mouth, did a little hop and scurried out. Nothing else to fix, so Primo moved on to his most common little problem. Copia now knew exactly where Primo was.

As soon as Copia stepped out into the cold he heard the familiar thwack echo across the stone walls of the Ministry building. Primo was by the garden shed, adding to the already precariously tall woodpile one axe blow at a time.

Primo was an easygoing sort of person, an unflappable pillar of good natured-ness, but Copia had known his adoptive father-brother for so long that he could tell exactly what was on his mind. This sudden onset of busy-ness, the relentless puttering only meant one thing:

It was not going well with him and a paramour.

Primo noticed him and buried the axe head into the stump with an effortless toss. There was a haze of heated persperation wafting from his rough friar’s habit. He smiled, but his eyes felt far away. “Ah, sorry, you wanted to show me something, I forgot. Copia, where's your coat?”

Copia swallowed. “Um er…are you and…Brother Vincenzo…”

“Ah, Vinny?” Primo curbed a grimace. “I needed to be by myself for a while.”

Copia burned with embarrassment. “Sorry I um…I…”

“Too many differences,” said Primo plainly. “We're on good terms, though. Don't worry.” He settled in on the cement bench nearby, a thin unsteady smile on his face. “Didn't care too much for this holiday anyway. What you got there, mausi?”

Copia dropped the book in his lap, and Primo touched the title with his fingers, reading aloud slowly. “Paper…paper cutouts.”

“Yes, like this!” Copia pulled out the bundle of folded papers, expanding it wide in front of him with a grin. “Tah-dah!”

“Oh, wow!”

“It's for you. Em…Happy Valentine's Day. Sorry.”

“What you sorry about?”

Copia looked down at the frozen dirt, his face burning. He wanted so badly for Primo to be well. Primo did everything in his power to build a wall of normalcy around him, and as Copia grew he felt its presence more and more. It tugged at his heart knowing that he could do little to help. For a moment he doubted if he did his doorknob ritual before leaving for the day— he wouldn't feel this way if he did. He must have forgot. More embarrassment. More springs winding.

Primo gave a good-natured scoff. “It happens.” He reached out with a roughened hand and investigated the little chain of paper dolls. “Fine work here, mausi. Thank you. Happy Valentine's Day, Copia.”

“I wanted to teach you,” Copia replied, his voice growing strong as Primo’s praise bolstered his spirit.

“I'd love to learn,” Primo said, and he rose, creaking, to his feet. “And we need to get you inside. Bring a coat next time.” He gestured at Copia once more, and the boy held his hand. The semi-frozen ground crunched underfoot as they crossed the lawn. “Lunch first?”

Copia nodded. “Sister Agatha made cookies.”

“Paper cutouts,” Primo mused. They got to the door, and he let Copia in but not without a teasing ruffle of his hair. “So…is this why I kept seeing all those little pieces of white paper all over the carpets, huh?” Primo smirk. “Nihil stole a box of xerox paper for you?”

“He…said he'd put it back,” Copia muttered shyly.

My Fic List | "Scenes from the Void" Eldritch Horror AU

#i like how i can write whatever th f i want #young primo #young copia #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv #ghost band headcanons #domestic fluff

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 15)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I move my character through the virtual landscape of Flower Forest, interacting with the townsfolk and continuing toward my goal of beautifying the town. This is of course on top of my other goals, like paying off my mortgage to the village's local snooty businessman Mr. Buck, and running my own little flower shop. I'm glad I have free time this weekend to play on my FlexPad, but shouldn't I be doing something a little more productive?

As I lay on my bed, immersed in the wonders of virtual gardening, an open box in the corner of my room catches my eye. It's the only box I haven't completely sorted through from the move, since it's full of things I don't exactly have a place for yet. I heave a sigh. I should at least try to get settled in before the end of Carmen.

I stand up with a stretch, setting down my FlexPad and walking towards the box. I peer inside to see a mess of contents ranging from junk drawer material to family keepsakes. I pull out a long, heavy metal object and examine it. It's a silver bowling trophy I won some time in stage 3. I got second place in an all-girls competition with a score of 116. Not that impressive, but a fun memory. Plus it's probably the only trophy I've ever won. I look around the room for a place to put it and decide the shelf beside my bed will do. I place the silver bowling pin beside a picture of Dad and me.

Returning to the box, I reach in and pull out a small, smooth object. It's a rock with a silly face drawn on in marker. 'Rocky' was his name, I believe. When I was little and wanted a pet, Dad made this thing for me to take care of since pets aren't allowed in the undercity. I was supposed to 'feed' it every day, 'play' with it, and do all the things you're supposed to do to care for an animal. Shockingly, playing with a rock turned out to be a bore, so I stopped taking care of Rocky. I have no use for this thing, but since Dad made it, I can't bring myself to throw it away. Especially not with that goofy expression it's making. Into my desk drawer it goes, I guess.

I continue going through the box like this, pulling out knick-knacks and heirlooms alike, finding places in my room for some things, and throwing out others until I've nearly reached the bottom of the box. One of the few items remaining is a cream-colored journal with blue morning glories adorning its glossy cover. It's bursting at the seams with papers and paper clippings, and is held together by a burgundy ribbon. I sigh. I remember when Dad first showed me this thing.

It was a few days before the move, and we were trying to get rid of as many things as possible so we wouldn't have to move so much. That proved a bit difficult, however, seeing as my dad had lived in that apartment in Maedri since before I was even born. Needless to say, he had a lot of stuff. The day came when we managed to clear out most of his unwanted and unneeded things, and all that remained was an unassuming box in the back of his closet with no label. It was a decent-sized box, but not too heavy. It wasn't closed all the way, and the top was covered in dust. I had asked about the box in the past, but Dad seemed to want to avoid it for whatever reason. That day, I would find out why.

Dad set the box down on the floor and sat down beside me with a sigh. He eyed the box for a moment before flipping open the cover and sending dust everywhere, which resulted in the two of us suffering through a coughing fit. Once we recovered, Dad reached into the box and pulled out a long, blue article of clothing, explaining that it was my mom's favorite cardigan. To my surprise, I still have a few vague memories of her wearing it.

Dad pulled out a few other things, all belonging to my mom. There was a scarf, some old art supplies, a poetry book, an indoor planter I decided I would keep, a few novels, and a flute to name a few. But what really caught my attention was a journal with flowers on it. I've always loved nature, and I know my mom did too, so I wondered what was inside. Upon retrieving the journal from the box, Dad looked it over for a moment. He had a smile on his face, but I could see him getting misty-eyed.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the book.

"This was your mom's art journal," Dad said. "This book contains nearly every drawing she made since before we were even together."

Dad flipped through the journal. Mom had doodled little flowers on napkins, and drawn elaborate portraits on scrap paper.

Dad handed me the journal. "I think your Mom would want you to have this," he said.

I took the book and turned the pages in awe. One page in particular was a watercolor piece, depicting a girl I could only assume was my mom with some enormous bluebells dangling above her. She looked up at them with wonder filling her eyes. I looked at the painting with the same wonder. How did she learn to draw flowers with such detail?

I turned a few more pages and was shocked at what I saw next. My mother painted herself, again in watercolor, dancing in the palm of a perthean's hand! One masculine hand held the twirling figure, while another held her hand from above, as if they were dancing together. I slammed the book shut.

I haven't opened the journal since then, although now I'm a bit curious as to what else is inside. I guess I'll leave it on my desk.

That leaves the planter. It's still a bit dusty, but it's nothing a damp cloth can't fix. I gaze at the planter's plug, its cord yellowed and worn with age. Could this thing really still work? I guess there's only one way to find out. I set the planter on my desk, and after a moment's hesitation, fit the plug into an outlet on the wall. There's a spark, which causes me to flinch back and let out a yelp, but to my surprise the light on the planter somehow manages to flicker to life when I press the power button.

I turn my eyes to a shopping tote beside my desk. My hand feels around the inside of the canvas bag until it finds and pulls out a small white envelope with a picture of my mom's favorite flower on it. I give the packet a gentle shake and listen as tiny pansy seeds rattle around inside. Sounds like there's more than enough to fill the planter. I feel around the inside of the tote again, absentmindedly nudging a receipt out of the way, and find a sturdy bag at the bottom. I lift the bag, which is rather heavy for its size, out of the tote and set it down on my desk with a small thud. I've never worked with soil before, and the only gardening I've ever done has been virtual. Since the planter is old, it doesn't have instructions with it anymore, but I'm sure I can figure out what to do. How hard can it be to fill pods with dirt, bury seeds, water them, and turn a light on? And after all, my mom definitely had a green thumb, so hopefully I inherited some gardening skills from her.

Upon tearing open the bag, the earthy scent of potting soil invades my nostrils. It has a note of sweetness to it, which I find strange. I'm reminded of the smell of moist dirt when it rains above ground. I carefully tip the bag over one of the empty pods on the planter until a steady stream of soil spills out. I must have tipped the bag a bit too far, though, since nearly half the contents spill out all over the planter, the desk, and my lap. I let out a sigh. I guess I'll have to vacuum. I try to collect the soil from my lap in my hands, but most of it manages to slip between my legs and onto the floor. Looking down at my last pair of good jeans, they're covered in dirt stains. I should probably wash them, along with the rest of the clothes I've been procrastinating on washing.

I look back at the dusty planter, covered in dirt. This definitely isn't going like I hoped. I wonder what my mom would say about my failed attempt at gardening. Maybe I should leave the gardening to Flower Forest.

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

I sit hunched over on the bench in the apartment's communal laundry room, my head down and my eyes fixed on my FlexPad. Flower Forest makes gardening seem so easy. How did I manage to mess things up so badly on my own?

The sound of another washing machine starting up catches my attention, and I look up to see a boy around my age nervously scanning the room for a free place to sit among everyone else doing their laundry this weekend. His green eyes and short black hair are familiar to me. I could almost swear I've seen him somewhere before. He pushes up his glasses as his gaze lands on me. His eyes widen, and he quickly looks away. I avert my gaze as my cheeks redden. I didn't mean to stare!

The boy finds a seat on the bench a few yards away from me when someone else leaves with their laundry basket. I try to focus on my game, but my mind keeps coming back to this boy. Really, where have I seen him before? Could I know him from school? Or have I just seen him around the apartment complex?

A pleasant melody ringing out alerts me that the dryer I'm using has completed its cycle. I set my FlexPad down beside me on the bench and stand with my basket to gather and fold my laundry.

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

"Back so soon?" Dad asks when I close the door to our apartment behind me, not looking away from his laptop.

"I guess I got in early enough that there was a free washer," I say, adjusting my grip on the basket under my arm so it doesn't slip. "Are you... working? On a Restday?"

"Yeah," Dad sighs, "I told a client I'd have this ad ready by Firsday, and it's still not done."

"Yikes. Well, don't overwork yourself," I say, turning to my room.

Bing-bong!

"Could you get that?" Dad asks.

Anxiety swells in my gut as I set my laundry basket down and turn back to the door. We aren't expecting anyone, and we didn't order anything that I know of, so I'm a little nervous as I peer through the peephole in the door to see who's standing outside of the apartment. To my surprise, it's the boy I saw in the laundry room! Blood rushes to my face. What's he doing here? I take a deep breath and hold it in before opening the door.

"H-hello?" I ask.

"Hi," the boy answers, his voice deeper and sharper in tone than I expected. He looks around the outside of the apartment, avoiding eye contact with me. "Is... this yours?" he asks begrudgingly as he holds out a FlexPad covered in familiar stickers of Catmium from Stranded and Mr. Buck from Flower Forest.

I stand there speechless, taking the FlexPad in my hands. "Yes! How did you—"

"You left it in the laundry room," the boy says before I can finish my sentence. "Just be more careful next time, alright?"

With that, the boy turns and speeds down the hall.

"Wait!" I call out. "Don't we know each other from somewhere? Maybe school?"

The boy flinches, stopping in his tracks. He turns his head back toward me only slightly. "I don't know," he says, his voice softer now, and nearly cracking. He clears his throat. "I don't know, maybe."

"Well, thanks for bringing my FlexPad back, um...?" I trail off, expecting the boy to give me his name.

He looks down and sighs. "Sam," he finally says, his tone a little softer than before.

"Thanks, Sam," I say. "I didn't even notice it had gone missing—"

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Sam bolting down the hall away from me.

"Hey!" I call out again. "Where are you going?!"

As Sam disappears around the corner, I contemplate the bizarre encounter that just took place. Just who is this guy? And what's his problem?

"Was that a friend from school?" Dad asks as I reenter the apartment.

"Honestly?" I chuckle in disbelief. "I have no idea."

#too small to be afraid #tstba #perthea #giant/tiny #g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #sfw g/t #sfw giant/tiny #sorry again for taking so long!!! #hopefully this chapter is a bit of a breather #school is back in session in the next chapter ;)

[quinnswritingquill]

The Drug In Me Is You

Jason Todd x AFAB Reader

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✰✩✫✪✬✭✯✮✰

CW: Slowburn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Light? BDSM, Blood Kink, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Honestly Kinky in Gen., Reader has female gentile, Use of Y/N but not too much.

AN: This is pretty much of a what if Jason was a sugar daddy turned lover. I also posted this on Ao3 as well.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ ·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*

Not everyone is built to handle the harsh world of Gotham. I mean fuck, I was raised in this hell bent city. I grew up surviving just barely over the poverty line. Lower income childhood meant cheap or in the box food for dinner. It meant thrifted clothes or cheap chain stores having sales and deals. Brands for show. School supplies, book ads, shoes, ect.

Nothing would prepare me for tipping my toe onto the world of rich men and wealthy women. Couldn't afford to attend college, not that it was the most important thing for me. But I needed to live on my own. Support myself. Somehow I managed to land a job as a waitress at a high-end restaurant near the wealthiest part of Gotham City. The hourly pay barely covers my rent. But the tips? Those help cover food, some to cover miscellaneous costs, and a little bit extra for savings incase of other crap. Still surviving. Barely but better.

No need for another job right now. It's been months since I started there. And I even have my own little studio apartment because of the job. Within a month of saving all the money I earned and money I previously saved. It's old and covered floor to ceiling with art pieces. Some older and some fairly more recent. I like looking at them. They bring life to this creepy old building.

Today I scrambled recklessly out of bed once my alarm clock started blasting. Turning it off I glanced at the time. Damn it's only 10 am, I still have about a few hours before my shift. I stretched out my sore muscles and walked to my small kitchen to make brunch. I grab out my lovely yogurt bowl and place it on the table along with the food I'm gonna scarf down. I mix my granola mix with some strawberry yogurt in the bowl. A quick meal before I get dressed for work.

By the time I finished eating, showering, dressing up, and cleaning up it's one o'clock. I check my work outfit just in case. We only had two choices that could be four different outfits at work. White or black button up, black slacks, or a knee length skirt. Obviously with tights tho. I picked a fuzzy off my black button up and straightened the pencil skirt. Finally I put my heels into my bag and slipped on my flats.

The restaurant was busy as usual. Honestly I wished for at least one day for us to be slow. But unfortunately rich people don't exactly give one shit. At least I think so. It's not something I would actually say, well to their faces.

My coworker Allison comes up to me as I swipe a card to finish paying my current table's bill.

" Hey Y/N? I just wanted to let you know I just sat three at table ten. The reservation is for Wayne." She said before patting my shoulder.

I smile, " Yeah okay, thanks Ally."

I go back and hand the receipt and card to my leaving table and head towards table ten. Three gorgeous looking men sit, chatting and laughing like they're not at a five star restaurant but at a diner by a public highschool. Weird beautiful men, but alright. I pull out my spiral notepad, pen in my right hand, ready for them to order.

" Hello there! You must be the Wayne reservation. I am your waitress this evening. My name is Y/N. Are gentlemen ready to order drinks?" I make sure to sweeten my words.

The three men stop talking. One with the shorr, but longer dark hair speaks, " Yes we are. We also know what we would like to order as well."

The man with the red hair and the man dawning the short black hair with a white streak also agree with the other gentleman. I jotted down the orders. I collect their menus and walk over to put in the orders so they get sent to the kitchen.

Once they finished eating, I walked over with the receipt and the card that belonged to the charming man with the long hair. I bid the men good day, leaving with the signed copy receipt. I opened the book to see the receipt and three sets of tips. Two were around a hundred in cash tips. The other was. What the hell? Five hundred dollars in cash?? The entire meal cost less than that! I stare blankly at the money before grabbing it out to place it in my wallet I use for my personal tips of the day.

Fuck it, I take it back. Only some rich people are douchebags. I finish my things up and head out to the back side of the building for a short smoke break before I take my lunch. I pull out my unopened cigarette pack from my bag and hit the bottom of the pack before unwrapping it. I grab out my FUCK OFF labeled lighter from the side pocket. I light it and take a long inhale of smoke.

" Got a light?" A voice asks.

I exhale and nod, " Yeah." And hand my lighter over, still not looking over.

He laughs, " Thanks, sweetheart. Did you like the tip? Thought you deserved more since you had to deal with my brother Dick and our friend Roy. They can be… Loud."

That's when I looked over like a deer in headlights, " Uh.. Ooh that was you? And yeah, thank you for the tip. But you do realize the entire check was less than that right? I'm not complaining, just curious."

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth before taking a bit to talk, " Yeah, I know that, darling. But I like spoiling hard-working people. Money is money. I also know that this place gets more money than they pay their waiters and waitresses. I know that most of you survive with tips."

"Oh." I manage out.

I can't but stare at the sincere look on his face. His absolutely hot face. God I need to get a fucking grip. He finishes his cigarette and hands me back my lighter. I put the rest of my own cancer stick out as well before shoving my shit back into my bag.

His hands are in his pocket as he smiles at me.

"My name is Jason, by the way, sweetheart. What's yours?" His right hand extends towards me.

I take his hand to shake, " It's Y/N."

We shake hands but before I can pull away he already turned mine over and plants a light kiss on it. I just stared like a god damned weirdo so unsure of what was going on. Letting my hand go he shoves his own back into his pocket.

"Have a good night Y/N." And he walks away.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me? My face is hot and I rush back inside to grab my lunch. I sit in the back of the locker room slash break room. Recounting the events only worsens my reddened face. I shovel my chicken caesar salad trying to refocus myself. Spoiler alert, that didn't fucking work. I look at the clock on the wall. An hour and I'm out of here. I can just forget pretty boy and move on. He's definitely just a flirt. Get over it Y/N.

Even when I got home, I can confidently say I didn't forget Jason. In actuality, all I did was think about him. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x reader

[buckys-little-belle]

I know you mentioned it before but a Xavier cg fic would be cool. Would he use his power to make little drawings come to life for you? (I had to cover my eyes and ears at the part where we got to see because I don't like bugs. Yuck!) I think he would be nice. and sit and color and draw. :)

Rainy Nights

Xavier Thorpe X Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - thunderstorm, reader is afraid of the thunder and lightning, reader has a brief meltdown because of the storm, xavier is the softest, fluff, fluff, fluff <3

Notes - I love this, I'm going to cry over this, I want this, Please send more of this, I beg you! <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW, if you do not comply you will be reported and blocked <3

+ + + + + +

Rainy nights were something Y/n couldn't handle, the thunder always too loud, the lightning so random it was off putting, they always put their headphones on, played some music, and tried to go to sleep early. But tonight, they of course couldn't find their headphones, the little hitch in their evening causing them to spiral slightly. Sure, it was only 7pm, lot's of time to search for the headphones before actual bedtime, but the loud booms and sudden flashes of light caused them to tip over the edge, their eyes tearing up as their mind regressed back to a younger state.

Y/n hadn't regressed at school yet, too new to feel comfortable around anyone to open up about their coping mechanism, too scared to be judged this early on in their stay at nevermore. But little Y/n didn't understand the big fear, the whole point of regression was to forget those tedious worries, so in their mind they knew they needed some help, some comfort, from someone who they trusted. So that's how they ended up at Xavier's dorm room door, tears streaming down their face, their pajamas a little disheveled, and their brain scrambling to come up with a coherent sentence.

"I, I'm, I jus', I." Was all they could get out, Xavier doing a once over of their body, trying to find some injury that would cause this level of sadness and scaredness.

"What's going on?" He asked, stepping aside to let them in, making sure no one in the hallway knew he was breaking the rules by letting someone into his room after hours.

"I can' find m'headphones." Y/n sobbed, miming putting on their headphones as they spoke, as if they were actually placing some on their head. "An' i's raining!" They explained, pointing to a window, as if Xavier didn't know the current weather conditions.

Xavier smiled, Enid, him, Ajax, and Wednesday had talked about their suspicions around some of Y/n's behavior, noting their childlike behavior in some scary or stressful situations, all coming to the conclusion that they were an age regressor, just one who didn't feel comfortable talking about it yet. He wasn't smiling because they were sad about the lightning, but because he knew he was getting serious bragging rights for being the first person Y/n truly regressed in front of.

"Would you like to borrow my headphones Bub?" He asked, trying to navigate the situation and calm Y/n down.

"Yes." They whispered.

"Yes, what?" Xavier asked, grabbing his headphones from off his desk, making sure they were connected to his phone, cuing up the playlist he may or may not have made for Y/n.

"Yes pease." Y/n repeated, sitting down on Xavier's desk chair, ready for the scary thunder to be drowned out.

"Good manners Bub." He smiled, placing the headphones on their head, making sure they sat on their ears nicely, playing the music and quickly walking away to gather some other distraction supplies.

Another thing he had made for Y/n was a little art kid, the box under his bed filled with colouring books, crayons, some finger paints, that he wasn't willing to try out now, and a set of beads and string, just a few things to see what Y/n would enjoy. He pulled out a coloring book and the crayons, walking over to his desk, grabbing the other desk's chair and sitting beside Y/n, opening up the book and ripping out a page for himself, letting Y/n join in if they wished.

After a few minutes of calming down, relishing in the thunder free environment, Y/n picked up some crayons, settling on a colouring page of flowers, filling in each little section with a different colour, making it as colourful and fun as possible.

When done they held up the book to Xavier, waiting for him to look at the picture, his eyes lighting up when he saw the artwork, placing the book back onto the desk. "Watch this." He said, his words not heard by Y/n but still uttered anyways. His hand moving slightly as the flowers 'stood' up, swaying side to side like read flowers would, the picture much more colourful and fun than his usual grey and macabre drawings.

Y/n giggled, clapping their hands slightly after he had stopped the flowers moving, Y/n quickly getting back to colouring another picture so it too could be brought back to life.

Who knew a thunderstorm was all it would take for Y/n to open up, and who knew Xavier was waiting with open arms willing to help in the time of need.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thrope fanfic #xavier thrope fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x little!reader #little reader #little space #age regression fic #xavier x little!reader #xavier x reader #xavier x little reader

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ what their bedrooms would look like...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... thoma, tighnari, venti, diluc, itto (+shinobu)

A/N... this is modern au!

✧ thoma.

i feel like thoma would actually have a really messy room, despite being the best cleaner known to man. with him being so busy polishing the floors of the kamisato mansion until they practically shine - not to mention the countless chores and errands he runs - it's almost impossible for him to catch his breath, leaving him absolutely exhausted by the time he throws himself onto his bed. it's almost ironic how he has cleaning supplies neatly lined up on his dressing cabinet collecting dust.

furthermore, a problem arises. thoma isn't the type to be able to say "no", therefore i think he'd probably end up with people coming over to his apartment. his more-than-messy bedroom, along with almost every other area of the apartment, means he and his visitor(s) are confined to the kitchen and living room, which - unfortunately - are not separated.

however, it could also be the complete opposite. with thoma having speedily completed all of the "assignments" set for him that day, he may find himself roaming the streets with nothing to do. after running around the city day after day, nothing seems new to him anymore, causing him to resort to cleaning his apartment searching for some form of entertainment.

✧ tighnari.

now, obviously, tighnari would have a lot of plants throughout his house, whether they're sat in pots upon the windowsill, or hanging precariously from the ceiling by a few strings. however, despite the countless amounts of greenery, his small home is perfectly clean; not a fallen leaf in sight. a stray petal spotted by him has no chance of survival, and would immediately be thrown into the composter along with any other scraps he finds.

he would also have a large garden surrounding his cottage-like house, with an abundance of greenery including trees, countless breeds of flowers, and even his own little veggie patch that he uses to grow not only vegetables, but herbs too.

towards the back would be a greenhouse, full to the brim of exotic and rare plant breeds which he often buys abroad. he keeps them there to study them, refusing to use the internet for information and relying purely on his own knowledge and the countless books he has in his basement-library. the amount of books he owns is so great, he would have to stack them besides the "library" door, leaving his home looking quite messy, but he doesn't seem to mind; he's a strong believer in "organised mess".

✧ venti.

i don't know if this is slightly random or strange, but in my mind, i think venti would make an excellent weather broadcaster; he has a strong passion with the wind, as well as a somewhat special connection, and so i think it's actually quite fitting.

in his room would be covered in charts, showing different areas of the world and little diagrams along with them of weather tendencies, levels of rainfail, and more; it wouldn't be much of a surprise to see multiple globes in his home either. despite not actually providing the information, venti wooul still enjoy studying the topics he speaks about, explaining the stacks of factual documents on his desk, facing the window of course so he can gaze out of the window and observe the beauty of mother nature's sky whenever he pleases.

in the far corner of his room, the spot in which the sun shines in the late afternoon, is a stool, his lyre sitting atop it. though it is an uncommon instrument to play, venti is more than just passionate about it's beautiful melodies, the way the strings vibrate to the perfect pitch every time, blessing the ears of those who walked by his window.

✧ diluc.

even in the real world, diluc still has a passion for the art of brewery, this hobby being so apparent that he would have his own "bar" in the basement of his home. he would have loved to take his love for brewery even further and turn it into his job, but in order to help provide for his family, including his partner, 2 children, and 3 cats, he needed a better paying job than a barista, and so ended up with an office job. as boring as it may be, he truly believes it's worth it.

his family's home would be of an average size, small enough to be homely, large enough to be comfortable. the kids would have their own rooms, though they wouldn't be massive. he and his partner would share a bedroom, as well as a bed, which would always be kept tidy by his obsessive nature for cleanliness and organisation, though a little clutter won't bother him.

i think it would be quite a basic home, what you'd expect for a modern day family, though there would be little relics spotted around the house, usually framed or kept in protective glass cases, that he'd taken an interest in over the years.

✧✧ itto. (+shinobu)

itto would 100% be a drummer. don't even ask me why, he just is. he would have quite a worn drumkit in the corner of his bedroom, which somehow withstands his passionate beatings for hours on end (put your dirty mind away); proving him to be not only a professional drummer, but also a professional upstairs neighbour, or just neighbour in general. practically all the apartment building can feel the vibrations of his rhythmic drumming, none of the inhabitants necessarily enjoying his musical outbursts.

his love for beetles still carries through to the real world, as well as his passion for the strength of geo. these likes of his are represented throughout his apartment, with beetles molded from stone scattered as decorations; the sizes, colours, and shapes ranging massively. he often volunteers at the local scouts club during the summer to take the children into the forest and (attempt to) catch bugs together.

shinobu, arguably his closest friend, shares the apartment with him, as well as the interest in music. her room is on the other side of the apartment, containing a wall dedicated to guitars (electric and acoustic) and basses. it isn't rare for the two of them to have recording sessions together; they are in a band together, after all.

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

#genshin #genshin headcanons #headcanons #thoma #thoma headcanons #tighnari #tighnari headcanons #venti #venti headcanons #diluc #diluc headcanons #itto #itto headcanons #shinobu #kuki shinobu #shinobu headcanons #kuki shinobu headcanons #.typingptera

[southerndragontamer]

Egotober Day 13: Mirror

What did it mean to be a mirror of someone? So alike, but so different at the same time. That was the question that ran through Roman’s mind as he sat in bed and sketched out a moment from the DND campaign Thomas was doing with his friend Terrence. It was such a creative game that he couldn’t resist.

His room, or rather their room, the room of Creativity was one that Thomas hadn’t visited yet. Being it was split between himself and Remus it was….interesting to say the least.

Half of it was a bedroom/study that looked like it belonged in a castle. Four poster bed, many comfortable pillows and blankets in gold and red with cream accents. Disney merchandise along shelves, a bookshelf, window with a nook overlooking the forest and a desk with paint and ink marks all over it. Roman wasn’t as methodical as Logan about his neatness, at least all the time. His art supplies were in a system only he recognized, but the room was neat enough you saw the floor and he kept his bed made and clothes clean.

Remus’ half….not so much. His rose red eyes looked over to where his twin was on his stomach, kicking his legs as he was likewise occupied with his own sketchbook. In shades of black and green with silver accents, his room was a full on mess that would make the clean minded all faint on sight. Clothes piled everywhere, bedding in disarray and the only reason the prince didn’t need a gas mask was because Imagination filtered it out. There was horror merchandise on shelves, a bookshelf with dog eared, torn books, a scuffed mess covered desk and the broken window overlooked a darker forest.

But there was something that was a familiar sight to him. Art supplies in a system almost the same as his, even if they were more covered in dried paint than his own.

The Duke’s poisonous green eyes looked up, his mustache quirked as he grinned mischievously at the Prince. He propped his cheek on his hand. “What’s that look for brother dearest? Oh no, you’ve been thinking haven’t you? I smell the smoke from here.”

Roman rolled his eyes and despite himself a smile tugged at his lips as he watched Remus wave a hand around in faux disgust. He scoffed to hide a chuckle.

“Ha-Ha very funny Remus. Yes, I have been thinking. About how we’re a mirror of each other, we’re so alike…yet so different.”

Remus hummed softly and he rolled over onto his back and wriggled up to set his head in Roman’s lap.

“It’s not that big a shock, if you want I can take you to meet Mary. She can give you quite the shock, that girl is something else! And maybe try to bite your lips off, but I can smack her with the morning star and she’ll know you’re not food. We went to this great bar for drinks-“

He pinched the bridge of his nose in the way of exasperated siblings everywhere and he cut off his twin’s ramble quickly but gently as he began to idly stroke Remus’ hair.

“I mean it’s just a bit confusing since we weren’t always twins. I did compare you to looking in a funhouse mirror before.”

Remus let out a content hum at the affection before he responded voice soft for once.

“It’s not really that far from the truth Roman. We may have been Creativity in full once, but when we had to we split. I was a bit more like you when Thomas was younger…but as time passed he saw two different kinds of creativity. I got most of my power from when he was a teenager. You know that time where everyone is stupid, gross, into the dark and taboo.”

“And that’s where the Intrusive Thought part of you began to manifest and where my Passion did as well.”

Roman finished for him in a similar soft tone. He sighed and twisted s bit, so he could curl around Remus and set his head on his stomach. He smiled as he felt their hands subconsciously join and Remus squeezed softly. They both knew that the prince only thought like this due to how he wanted to ignore his mental crisis of everything not really being as black and white as he’d thought, that had reared it’s head when Janus properly introduced himself and challenged everything he thought he understood.

Virgil had helped as much as he could, and he had tried bless his anxious heart, but it still wasn’t that simple for Roman to confront that part of himself yet. He knew he would soon enough, and when he did he’d have not just the others beside him, but his twin as well. Because they were each other’s mirror, where one went so did the other.

#Roman #Fanciful Prince #Remus #Intruding Duke #Sanders Sides #Thomas Sanders Fandom #Fanfic #South Writes #Egotober 2023 #Quick note! I haven’t actually listened to Roleslaying with Roman yet #But I couldn’t resist including it because it just *fits* #Roman and Remus’ relationship is a fascinating one as twins #I go by the headcanon/fanon that they were once one Side Creativity that split as Thomas grew older #And as Thomas’s interests changed and developed so did both new sides of Creativity #Thus the Roman and Remus we know and love today #Had to add that hurt/comfort at the end with twin cuddling #And the allusion to Roman’s as yet unfulfilled character arc #Like I have a headcanon for it being a big confrontation against Pride and all the Sides back Roman up #And Roman is faltering against his own power #And Remus steps up and clocks Pride with his flail like ‘don’t you dare hurt my brother you *beep*! I’m the only one allowed to do that!’ #is it a flail or a morning star???? I see both used and I genuinely don’t know XD #But yeah I could do a fic with that scene alone

[silverspleen]

Actually for reference, my bookshelves go like this:

BOOKSHELF ONE

Vampire books

Military scifi + warhammer 40k

Books too big to fit on that shelf (mostly horror and manga)

BOOKSHELF TWO

Craft supplies

Boxed up action figure storage

BOOKSHELF THREE

The grotesquerie.

A mishmash of mostly books I need to read but also a lot of cherished childhood books all smashed together (literally stacked horizontally and vertically however I can fit them) with literally no distinction between the two entirely because I have no shelf space because I am a menace and secretly want to live in a library and therefore own literally too many books

Fantasy + scifi + horror + science + romance + manga

BOOKSHELF FOUR

Monster high doll display

Romance books + boys love manga

Dragon books + cherished fantasy series with vampires

Old school books + nice paper for crafting + manga (stacked vertically

BOOKSHELF FIVE

Boxed sets

Graphic novels + small paperback indie ttrpgs

Old vintage childhood hardback books + hardback TTRPG books + art books

BOOKSHELF SIX

TBR medium books + small indie art books

TBR small paperback books + borrowed books

Porn comics (hidden behind reading chair covered in laundry) + large book TBR + graphic novel overflow

BOOKSHELF SEVEN

(it's lots of little square shelves in a grid) TBR of various sizes + craft supplies + small card games

NEXT TO MY BED

Books I actively started reading at some point that I'm trying to get through, usually one to three months old. Two stacks, about five to six books each.

I also have three boxes of bagged n boarded singles comics nestled between shelves SIX and SEVEN.

#the dragoon diaries #books #anyway I need more bookshelves. or at least taller ones. but I have NO space