#Diem Brown

[i-nabi]

[lollytea]

Huntlow situationship gives me such intense brain termites you don't get it

[astral-express-family]

The name's Fate!

Young Adult, he/it/she/they <3

I am a genderqueer polyamorous lesbian-

I have a taglist form if you're interested!

If you know me from my main, hi! Don't tell anyone please.

Dipping my toes into the self-ship community, might not post a whole lot. Not gonna share my main blog on here just yet. If you know me on my main/figure out my main (or any of my sides), please leave it over there. Fuck it. My main/fandom blog is @mb-blue-roses, and i interact from @arty-girl-asks. I'll probably focus more on my familial self-ships than my romantic ones, though I have some of both.

I don't mind people sharing f/os with me, romantic or platonic! (the only exception are my OCs, unless you ask permission first)

In fact, I love to interact w/ people who share my f/os! Whether it be in the same way or differently, we can share our love for them.

Nothing NSFW in the inbox though, I'm ace & don't want that. Also, proship DNI! Please don't call me "honey", it makes me deeply uncomfortable!

All original posts will be tagged #💛❤️💜 brought together by fate 💜❤️💛

All reblogs will be tagged as #💛❤️💜 fate's reblogs 💜❤️💛

18+ posts will be very rare - but on the occasion I do, they'll be tagged with #fatefully spicy

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Please don't talk to me about the following ships (I don't care if you ship them, I just don't wanna hear about it): Itt.orou (Genshin), Kaz.orou (Genshin), Cyn.ari (Genshin), Jean.luc (Genshin), Robin.hill (Honkai), Rib.bun (TADC), Korsi.mint (Hi-Fi RUSH)

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I have a separate selfship blog dedicated to my ships from a game with more NSFW character designs, as I don't feel comfortable posting them on here (even though none of the characters with those designs are actually f/os)

If you want the link/blog name, send an ask (off-anon, so I can answer privately) or DM me!!

Note: I will NOT be giving the link to anyone under 18 years of age

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Since I self-ship partially as a coping mechanism, I will probably post some more serious posts with them from time to time. I will make sure to tag all posts appropriately.

Tags I will use will be #serious post, #trigger tw (ex: #disordered eating tw), and sometimes (if I'm not sure exactly what tags to use) #ask to tag.

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Self-insert info can be found here!

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Non-exhaustive list of some of my f/os (organized by relationship) (complete with pronouns - some are headcanon) under the cut!

Main F/Os

(i don't love them any more than any other f/os, i just think about them all the time)

- Phone Gal/Sunni (Five Nights at Freddy's) (❤️) (Wife) (iffy sharing, please ask)

Pronouns: she/he (transfeminine lesbian)

Tag: 📞🌒 the voice on night watch | phone gal

Ship Name: Nighttime Loving

- Arthur Hastings (We Happy Few) (💛) (Platonic Soulmate/Best Friend Ever)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 💊📰 take my hand and we'll dance though the heart of the storm | arthur hastings

- Kai (Dark Parables) (🩵)

Pronouns: he/him (transmasculine, still woman-aligned)

Tag: 🌲📖 botanical warden | kai

Queerplatonic Ship Name: Botany and Baking

- Constantin D'Orsay (GreedFall) (Cousin)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🪙💰 the governor of new sérène | constantin d'orsay

- Bennett (Genshin Impact) (💜 - Youngest Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🔥⚔️ a blazing adventure | bennett

- Lynette (Genshin Impact) (❤️💞 - with Hina) (Wife)

Pronouns: any, she/her preferred (transfeminine lesbian)

Tag: 🫖🎩 you're my cup of tea | lynette

Ship Name: Aslynette

- Hina (Genshin Impact) (❤️💞 - with Lynette) (Fiancée) (iffy sharing, please ask)

Pronouns: she/her (transfeminine lesbian)

Tag: 🐶🏳️‍⚧️ canine general of watatsumi | hina

Ship Name: A Canine and her Leporine

(Lynette x Hina Name: Hinette)

Joint Ship Name: I want something just like this (also called Ashinette but more rarely)

- Welt Yang (Honkai: Star Rail) (💜) (Father)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🖋🎞 our dear elder | welt yang

❤️ ~ Romantic ~ ❤️

(💞 = Polyamorous Ship)

- Yasmina Taylor (Detectives United OC) (💞 - with Althena Rivera) (Girlfriend) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🔥👑 the scarlet princess | yasmina taylor

Ship Name: Yasline

- Althena Rivera (Detectives United OC) (💞 - with Yasmina Taylor) (Girlfriend) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: any (agender)

Tag: 🪪💅 a shifting form | althena rivera

Ship Name: Celthena

(Yasmina x Althena Name: Almina)

Joint Ship Name: spirit shapeshifter princess

- Gerda (Dark Parables) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 💛🪙 hair of gold heart of gold | gerda

Ship Name: 'cause i'm gonna make this place your home

- Síora (GreedFall) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌿💐 mundeinhanem | síora

Ship Name: De Síora

- Cassandra De Rolo (TLoVM) (Wife)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 👸🩸 the ruler of whitestone | cassandra de rolo

Ship Name: Casseas

- Mellori (Wizard101) (💞 - with Layle Dusklaw) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: they/she (demigirl)

Tag: 🍃🪄 daughter of the raven | mellori

Ship Name: Viclori

- Layle Dusklaw (Wizard101 OC) (💞 - with Mellori) (Girlfriend) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/they (nonbinary)

Tag: 💀🪦 angel in the graveyard | layle dusklaw

Ship Name: Layloria

(Mellori x Layle Name: Melle)

Joint Ship Name: Is how I need you / And how you needed me too

- Cassie 'Clip' Lipman (Fortnite: Save the World) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/fae (transfeminine demigirl)

Tag: 🔩🔧 gunsmithing wonder | cassie 'clip' lipman

Ship Name: Rose Clippings

- Amber (Genshin Impact) (💞 - with Eula) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🐰🪽 outrider of mondstat | amber

Ship Name: Amlia

- Eula Lawrence (Genshin Impact) (💞 - with Amber) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/they (genderqueer)

Tag: 🏔💫 social etiquette training | eula lawrence

Ship Name: Eulia

(Amber x Eula Name: Eulamber)

Joint Ship Name: Eulamlia

- Lumine (Genshin Impact) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/it (agender)

Tag: 🗺🌟 love across the stars | lumine

Ship Name: Aslumine

- Chevreuse (Genshin Impact) (💞 - with Chiori) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: they/she (nonbinary)

Tag: 💥🍟 musket-wielding dame | chevreuse

Ship Name: Shot through the heart and you're to blame

- Chiori (Genshin Impact) (💞 - with Chevreuse) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her (transfeminine)

Tag: 🪡🧵 boutique angel | chiori

Ship Name: But I see your true colors shining through

(Chevreuse x Chiori Name: Cheviori)

Joint Ship Name: Muskets clothes and sweets

- La Signora (Genshin Impact) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🦋🔥 fair lady of flames | rosalyne/la signora

Ship Name: It's win or it's lose and i don't want to lose you

- Asta (Honkai: Star Rail) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🛰️🌠 every star is a miracle | asta

Ship Name: the stars will always remember us

- Robin (Honkai: Star Rail) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🕊🎼 hope is the thing with feathers | robin

Ship Name: let me start by saying i love you

- Charlie (Don't Starve) (Wife)

Pronouns: she/it

Tag: 🌹🪄 no damsel in distress don't need to save me | charlie

Ship Name: Lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose

- Rory Williams (Doctor Who) (💞 - with Amy) (Partner)

Pronouns: he/she (bigender)

Tag: ⚔️🩺 centurion nurse | rory williams

Ship Name: Jory

- Amy Pond (Doctor Who) (💞 - with Rory) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌐💒 more important than the universe | amy pond

Ship Name: Jomy

(Rory x Amy Name: Roramy)

Joint Ship Name: the feather-pond-williams family

- Peppermint Vandelay (Hi-Fi Rush) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her (transfeminine)

Tag: 🍬📱 brains and beauty | peppermint vandelay

Ship Name: If only you saw what I can see you'll understand why I want you so desperately

- Lucille (A Monster in Paris) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🪽🎵 a musical angel | lucille

Ship Name: just a little kiss from you

- Breanna Casey (Leverage: Redemption)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 💻🏳️‍🌈 lesbian in stem | breanna casey

Ship Name: the maker and the baker

- Amira Rashid (Monster Prom) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🔥❤️‍🔥 burning in my heart | amira rashid

Ship Name: Highschool Sweethearts

- Sunny (Fortnite: Battle Royale) (💞 - with Stryder) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 👽🎸 we'll get out of here | sunny

Ship Name: Alien and her lover

- Stryder (Fortnite: Battle Royale) (💞 - with Sunny) (Partner)

Pronouns: she/he (bigender)

Tag: ✌️💻 peace syndicate queen | stryder

Ship Name: Space Strider

(Sunny x Stryder Name: Sun Strider)

Joint Ship Name: Alien Sun Strider

- Holly (Monster Rancher) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🏡🦖 together raise monsters | holly

Ship Name: The Holly and The Ivy

- Gangle (The Amazing Digital Circus) (Girlfriend)

Pronouns: she/they

Tag: 🎭🎀 take off your mask with me | gangle

Ship Name: Ribbon Rabbit

❣️ ~ Crushes ~ ❣️

(Characters I love but am too anxious/uncertain to officially add) (* = Comes from a media I already ship with)

⚙️📓*

Pronouns: it/she

Tag: ⚙️📓 (unless I decide to officially add it)

👤❄️*

Pronouns: she/they

🩰🌦️*

Pronouns: she/her

👒🌪️*

Pronouns: they/he

🥊🏆*

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🥊🏆 (unless I decide to officially add her)

Tashigi (One Piece)

Pronouns: she/her

🐟🪖 - polyam w/ below

Pronouns: she/her

🦎⚗️ - polyam w/ above

Pronouns: she/her

📕🧺

Pronouns: she/her

💜 ~ Fankids ~ 💜

- Devin, Clarissa, and Asher Roseman (with Phone Gal)

- Aspen and Luna (with Lynette)

- Varian (with Hina)

- Julius de Rolo (with Cassandra de Rolo)

- Dewy (with Amber)

🩵 ~ Queerplatonic ~ 🩵

- Elwin (OC - multiple versions - Dark Parables & Honkai: Star Rail) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: they/them (agender)

Tag: TBA

Queerplatonic Ship Names: TBA (Dark Parables), A Brand New Memory (Honkai: Star Rail)

- Page Jimmy (Wizard101) (💛/🩵 - undecided) (putting him here until i fully decide)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Calamity Thunderwing (Wizard101 OC) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/her (transfeminine)

Tag: TBA

- Caiden Goldenfeather (Wizard101 OC) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: he/him (transmasculine)

Tag: TBA

- Tighnari (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: he/they/she (genderfluid)

Tag: 🌳🍄 one with the forest | tighnari

Queerplatonic Ship Name: Aslari

- Oz (Monster Prom)

Pronouns: he/they (nonbinary demiboy)

Tag: 🖤🌠 not afraid with you | oz

Queerplatonic Ship Name: Highschool Darlings

💜 ~ Familial ~ 💜

- Coppelia (Five Nights at Freddy's: The Week Before) (Step-daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Ollie (Poppy Playtime) (Son)

Pronouns: it/he

Tag: 📼🧸 beloved toy beloved boy | ollie

- Nicky Roth (Hello Neighbor) (Son)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🥽🏀 hello my son | nicky roth

- Tabby (HOUSE) (Daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Melody (HOUSE) (Daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Fran Bow (Fran Bow) (Daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Dorian Brown (Mystery Trackers/Detectives United) (Father)

Pronouns: he/it

Tag: 🫥🕵‍♂️ the invisible detective | dorian brown

- Mortimer Brown (Mystery Trackers/Detectives United) (Uncle)

Pronouns: he/they/she

Tag: 🫥🥀 blue rose in bloom | mortimer brown

- James Blackthorne (Haunted Hotel/Detectives United) (Uncle)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 👻🏨 the man who talks to ghosts | james blackthorne

- Jessica Blackthorne (Haunted Hotel) (Aunt)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Jaylene Blackthorne (Haunted Hotel OC) (Cousin)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Anna Gray (Grim Tales/Detectives United) (Aunt)

Pronouns: she/they

Tag: 🕰🪞 step into a memory | anna gray

- Dorian Gray (Grim Tales) (Uncle)

Pronouns: he/ae

Tag: 🖼🎨 painting of the self | dorian gray

Richard Gray (Grim Tales/Detectives United) (Grandfather)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 💀⌛️ a spirit tethered to earth | richard gray

- Alice Gray (Grim Tales) (Cousin)

Pronouns: she/he

Tag: ⌚️🏞 another time another place | alice gray

- Amber Edevane (Mystery Trackers) (Aunt)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🐶🕵‍♀️ full time detective part time dog mom | amber edevane

- Shade (Mystery Trackers/Detectives United) (Aunt)

Pronouns: she/it/they

Tag: 📜📞 limitless information | shade

- Jasmine Rivera (Detectives United OC) (Sibling-in-Law)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: 🪪🫰 this mortal form | jasmine rivera

- Noah (Dark Parables) (Father-in-Law(ish))

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🪓🪵 woodcutting guide | noah

- Hansel (Dark Parables) (Unspecified Elder-in-Law)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🌕✨️ golden moon | hansel

- Red Riding Hood Sisters - Ruth, Jessica, & Briar Rose (Dark Parables) (Elder Sister Figures)

Pronouns: she/her (all)

Collective Sisters Tag: 🏕🐺 woodland family | red riding hood sisters

- Mev (GreedFall) (Sister-in-Law)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🪻🌟 sisters in battle | mev

- Petrus (GreedFall) (Uncle Figure)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🌟🌫 believer in enlightenment | petrus

- Percy De Rolo (TLoVM) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: 🔫✴️ the gunsling king | percy de rolo

- Bat (Wizard101) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: they/he

Tag: 🦇🌒 son of the spider | the bat

- Arthur Wethersfield (Wizard101) (Father)

Pronouns: he/they

Tag: 🎩☕️ well balanced guidance | arthur wethersfield

- Flint Anvilbreaker (Wizard101 OC) (Brother) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: he/wiz

Tag: 🔮🐉 friend turned brother | flint anvilbreaker

- Megan Bluebreeze (Wizard101 OC) (Sister) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/hir

Tag: 🪶🌩 maiden of the storm | megan bluebreeze

- Bentley Daysong (Wizard101) (Younger Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🔥🪔 tender inferno | bentley daysong

- Sophie Dusklaw (Wizard101 OC) (Sister-in-Law) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🍾🧿 queen of three | sophie dusklaw

- Oliver Dusklaw (Wizard101 OC) (Brother-in-Law) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🪴💚 garden's heartbeat | oliver dusklaw

- Dennis (Fortnite: Save the World) (Brother)

Pronouns: he/she

Tag: 🍔🫡 hamburger helper | dennis

- Ray (Fortnite: Save the World) (Sister)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🔋📷 mission control | ray vinderman

- Sarah (Fortnite: Save the World) (Sister-in-Law)

Pronouns: she/they

Tag: [emojis TBA] sister's leap of faith | sarah

Dennis Jr. (Fortnite: Save the World) (Nephew)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag : 🧸🕗 time after time | dennis jr

Lok (Fortnite: Save the World) (Nephew)

Pronouns: he/they

Tag: 📨📲 learning ai | lok

- Bianca (Genshin Impact OC) (Younger Sister) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🍀🌑 a lucky adventure | bianca

- Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) (Older Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: ❄️🌨 frosty family | kaeya alberich

- Diluc Ragnvindr (Genshin Impact) (Oldest Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🍷🌋 family keeps you warm | diluc ragnvindr

- Aether (Genshin Impact) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: he/it

Tag: 🧭🌟 family across the stars | aether

- Jean Gunnhildr (Genshin Impact) (Older Sister)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌬🏵 dandelion girl | jean gunnhildr

- Barbara Pegg (Genshin Impact) (Younger Sister)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌊🎶 an idol's song | barbara pegg

- Chongyun (Genshin Impact) (Younger Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🍧🧊 popsicle boy | chongyun

- Ga Ming (Genshin Impact) (Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🦁🎇 lion guard | ga ming

- Kaedehara Kazuha (Genshin Impact) (Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🍁☁️ one with which to wander | kaedehara kazuha

- Diona Kätzlein (Genshin Impact) (Daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🐱🏹 the young hunter | diona kätzlein

- Chouji (Genshin Impact) (Son)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🦴⛏️ three thousand miles | chouji

- Sayu (Genshin Impact) (Daughter) (Daughter)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 😴🌱 the sleepiest ninja | sayu

- Beidou (Genshin Impact) (Mother)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: ⚓️♟️ my family lies over the ocean | beidou

- Ningguang (Genshin Impact) (Mother)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 💸♟️ rags to riches story | ningguang

- Zhongli (Genshin Impact) (Uncle)

Pronouns: he/it

Tag: ☄️⏳️ an unspoken contract | zhongli

- Lyney (Genshin Impact) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🔥🎩 master of the stage | lyney

- Freminet (Genshin Impact) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: they/he

Tag: ⛲️🫧 life beneath the waves | freminet

- Arlecchino (Genshin Impact) (Mother-in-Law)

Pronouns: she/he, she preferred

Tag: 🏠✨️ home is where the hearth is | arlecchino

- Branch Master Cyrus (Genshin Impact) (Father)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🧭🌍 a branch of adventure | branch master cyrus

- Marjorie (Genshin Impact) (Sister)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 💵💎 with wind comes glory | marjorie

- Adventure Guild Dads (Genshin Impact) (Fathers) (catch-all)

Pronouns: he/him (all)

Tag: 🧭🫂 the adventure that is family | adventure guild dads

- March 7th (Honkai: Star Rail) (Sister)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 📸🌨 say cheese! | march 7th

- Dan Heng (Honkai: Star Rail) (Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🕚🌬 gazing toward the future | dan heng

- Stelle (Honkai: Star Rail) (Sister)

Pronouns: ze/she

Tab: 🗑️🔗 birds of a feather | stelle

- Caelus (Honkai: Star Rail) (Brother)

Pronouns: it/they/he

Tag: 💠🔗 birds of a feather | caelus

- Himeko (Honkai: Star Rail) (Mother)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌹💄 elegant rose of flame | himeko

- Pom-Pom (Honkai: Star Rail) (Undefined Familial)

Pronouns: any, they/them preferred

Tag: 🐇⭐️ our loyal conductor | pom-pom

Collective AEC Tag: 🌌🚅 a trailblazing family | astral express crew

- Arlan (Honkai: Star Rail) (Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: ⚡🩹 lightning in the dark | arlan

- Yanqing (Honkai: Star Rail) (Little Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Jing Yuan (Honkai: Star Rail) (Father)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Misha (Honkai: Star Rail) (Little Brother)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🗝️🧳 reverie of the stars | misha

- Gallagher (Honkai: Star Rail) (Father)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- The Cultist (Enter the Gungeon) (Child)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: TBA

- Lock, Shock, and Barrel (The Nightmare Before Christmas) (Children)

Pronouns: he/him (Lock and Barrel), she/her (Shock)

Collective Tag: TBA

- Alec Hardison (Leverage) (Brother-in-Law)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Trespasser Defector/Tav (Fortnite: Battle Royale) (Undefined but definitely familial)

Pronouns: he/she/they

Tag: 🌌🌏 space above and earth below | trespasser defector

- Wilson P. Higgsbury (Don't Starve) (Brother-ish)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🧪🥼 the gentleman scientist | wilson p higgsbury

💛 ~ Platonic ~ 💛

- Gwyn (Dark Parables)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🏹🦅 his frosty highness | gwyn

- Pinocchio (Dark Parables)

Pronouns: he/they

Tag: 🤎🫶 be you wood or flesh | pinocchio

- Vasco (GreedFall)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🌊⚓️ sailing the mighty seas | vasco

- Kurt (GreedFall)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: ⚔️🛡 guarding my back | kurt

- Aphra (GreedFall)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 💣🔬 science & guns & bombs | aphra

- Fiona Mythsinger (Wizard101 OC) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🧿🌏 forbidden mythos | fiona mythsinger

- Carpe Diem Society (Kestrel Blackstorm, Taylor Froghead, Declan Wyrmdust, Carson Spritethief, & Quinn Legendbreaker) (Wizard101)

Pronouns: she/her (K), she/they (T), he/him (D), he/they (C), & it/she (Q)

Collective Tag: 🫂☀️ seize the day | carpe diem society

- Dyvim Whitehart (Wizard101)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: 🗡🐀 for bastion!! | dyvim whitehart

- Obsidian O'Leary (Wizard101 OC) (iffy sharing OCs)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: TBA

- A.C. (Fortnite: Save the World)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: TBA

- Willow (Fortnite: Save the World)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Larry Butz (Ace Attorney)

Pronouns: he/they(/sometimes she)

Tag: 🖌🫀 a woman's kinda man | larry butz

- Paimon (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: ✨️🥘 an otherworldly guide | paimon

- Sangonomiya Kokomi

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🪼🪸 together we are stronger | sangonomiya kokomi

- Razor (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: they/them

Tag: TBA

- Fischl (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/they

Tag: TBA

- Venti (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: he/they/it

Tag: 🎼🕊 feathers on the wind | venti

- Mika Schmidt (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🏔🗺 icy reconnaissance | mika schmidt

- Lisa Minci (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 📖⚡️ lightning librarian | lisa minci

- Albedo (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: Any, no preference

Tag: 🗻🖌 chalk amongst the snow | albedo

- Klee (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🧨🔥 explosive little spark | klee

- Sucrose (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🍬🧫 sweet shy scientist | sucrose

- Noelle (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🧹🛡 miss maid-knight | noelle

Collective KoF tag: 🪽🗡 let the wind lead | knights of favonius

- Xingqiu (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: he/she

Tag: 📚🗡 bookworm swordsman | xingqiu

- Navia (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🌹💎 the spina's demoiselle | navia

- Tartaglia/Childe (Genshin Impact)

Pronouns: he/they

Tag: 🐋🛷 monoceros caeli | tartaglia

- Chai (Hi-Fi RUSH)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🎸🎧 the powers of rock and friendship | chai

- 808 (Hi-Fi RUSH)

Pronouns: any

Tag: 🐈‍⬛🤖 emotional support feline | 808

- Macaron (Hi-Fi RUSH)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Korsica (Hi-Fi RUSH)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Francœur (A Monster in Paris)

Pronouns: any

Tag: TBA

- Raoul (A Monster in Paris)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Emile (A Monster in Paris)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Maud (A Monster in Paris)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Parker (Leverage)

Pronouns: they/she

Tag: TBA

- Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Sophie Devereaux (Leverage)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Harry Wilson (Leverage: Redemption)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Vicky Schmidt (Monster Prom)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: 🔩⚡️ frankenstein was the monster | vicky schmidt

- Brian Yu (Monster Prom)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: 🧟‍♂️🧠 undead friend | brian yu

- Vera Oberlin (Monster Prom)

Pronouns: she/her

Tag: TBA

- Order Remnant/Ira (Fortnite: Battle Royale)

Pronouns: it/he/no pronouns

Tag: 🪖💭 remaining thread of imagination | order remnant

- SHADOW Enforcer/Shale (Fortnite: Battle Royale)

Pronouns: he/fae/they

Tag: 🕶🐈‍⬛ shadow in the light | shadow enforcer

- GHOST Enforcer/Gavin (Fortnite: Battle Royale)

Pronouns: he/him

Tag: TBA

- Svenja (Fortnite: Battle Royale)

Pronouns: she/he

Tag: TBA

Joint Hench Quintet Tag: TBA

- The Survivors (Don't Starve Together) (Specifics TBA - there are 16 of them)

Pronouns: TBA

Collective Tag: TBA

🐾 ~ Pets ~ 🐾

- Simon (HOUSE)

Tag: TBA

- Mr. Midnight (Fran Bow)

Tag: TBA

- Chocolate Chip the Mist Wolf (Dark Parables)

Tag: TBA

- Peppy (Honkai: Star Rail)

Tag: 🐾🌟 space station puppy | peppy

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

I'm pretty sure I have more than that, I'll add them to the list as I post abt them

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

Fictional Enemies

(I'm tucking them down here, but just know that it's on sight)

- Prince d'Orsay (GreedFall) <- (Main Enemy)

- Royce (Genshin Impact) <- (Main Enemy)

- Draff (Genshin Impact)

- Albert (Genshin Impact)

- Yae Miko (Genshin Impact)

- Herta (Honkai: Star Rail)

- Blade (Honkai: Star Rail)

- The Clown With the Tear-Away Face (The Nightmare Before Christmas)

- Jax (The Amazing Digital Circus)

- Grandmother Raven (Wizard101) (it's on sight but she's also family to me - it's very complicated)

[luveline]

hey pookie bear❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could do james x reader but enemies to lovers/one bed troupe, i can’t find enemies to lovers with james very often and my mind is craving it. thank you ily❤️❤️

hey!! ily tysm for requesting!!! —you and co-worker!james share a hotel room for the night. fem!reader, 1.5k

James Potter is the most insufferable, arrogant, suffocating boy you've ever met in your entire life, so when you hear you'll be sharing a room with him tonight, you shut down. Total icy silence. If he wants conversation, he can ring one of his irritating mates. 

It feels borderline illegal to have your workplace make you share a room considering, but you're adults, and the trip was supposedly all inclusive. Not even the most luxurious per diem could make this worth it, though. 

James lays in the middle of the bed, arms behind his head, skin awash by lamplight and hair a dark halo against the crisp white linens. He grins at you and you despise how handsome he is. Handsome, and such a fucking prick of a man. 

"Won't you join me?" he teases. 

You've kept your vow to ignore him until that point. "Please don't lie on my side of the bed." 

He moves over, looking startlingly apologetic. You'd believe he was repentant, but he asks, "What's the point? You'll be in my arms sooner or later." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. He agitates you, he irks you, but you know James is a good guy. His irritating mates are the same. When you joined the office, he made sure they all remembered to celebrate your birthday though it'd only been a few weeks. When you fell up the icy steps on the way in one morning, James didn't take the piss. He helped you up into the doorway and frowned at your bloody knees and ripped tights like they physically pained him.  

"Do you want to shower first?" you ask. 

"I shower in the mornings. Thank you. But I can strip down now if you'd like." 

"James, please," you say, rubbing your eyes. You'd usually have something much more biting to say, but you're tired. At the last second, you summon the energy. "No one wants to see that." 

He glares at you like he's remembered he doesn't like you. 

"Cruel." 

He leans over the edge of the bed and pulls a book out of his suitcase where it lays in arm's reach. 

"I didn't know you could read," you add. 

"Points off for awfulness. Put your jammies on, shortcake, I wanna see what you packed." 

He's being a creep to annoy you. It's working. You grab your pyjamas and a change of underwear and leave his presence to the small bathroom for a quick shower. You take your time to dry off. It's too big a wish to have him be sleeping when you emerge, and sure enough, he's wide awake but changed into his own pyjamas, plaid bottoms and a white t-shirt. 

"Now I know you're obsessed with me," he says, raising his eyebrows over the pages of his book. 

You cross your arms self consciously over your near identical pyjamas, the bathroom door closing behind you. 

James waits for you to put your dirty clothes in your suitcase before piping up again. "You look adorable." 

"Fuck off, please." 

He snorts and kicks the sheets down the length of the bed. Stretching with a groan that makes your stomach hurt, he puts his novel tented down on the nightstand. His glasses are next. He looks different without them but no less handsome. If anything, the eagle shape of his nose is more pronounced without them, as is the little pink scar on his cheek, stark against his brown skin. 

"You're an awful roommate," he says decisively, "you use all the hot water, you leave the windows open, as now you're ogling me. I feel rather objectified." 

You avert your eyes guiltily. "You might want to take your temperature. You likely have a fever, considering how delusional you're acting."

"Ooh, burn." 

Face hot with spite, you push back the sheets on your side of the bed and turn off your lamp. After a second, James turns off his. 

"You're not brushing your teeth?" you ask. Your voice lacks a specific bite, fatigue kicking in. 

"Did while you were in the bathroom." 

"What'd you do with the toothpaste spit?" 

"Swallowed it." 

You laugh. It sounds much too friendly, and you hate it. "You're disgusting," you mutter. 

You slide down flat on your back and pull the sheets over your legs and stomach, more than aware of his nearness and the heat of his body already waiting for you under the thin quilt. He smells nice, this close. Like deodorant, mint, but something else that snags your attention. 

You hate him so much sometimes —he steals your pens constantly from your desk, he never offers you a cup of coffee even when he's making them for everyone else, and he's lazy. He doesn't do his third of the finances on time. He nudges his desk into yours to make your small figurines fall over and calls it 'earthquake training'. They're fucking plastic. James Potter drives you up the goddamn wall, and being close to someone like this couldn't be more awkward. You're stiff as a board. 

"I was only kidding earlier," James says. He's quiet, but so is the room. He might as well yell. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you if you didn't want me to." 

"You gave me a snakebite three days ago." 

"I thought you had a bug on you," he says furiously, having had this argument already. "That's not the point. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I'll do that. I have no intention of making you uncomfortable." 

"You've already failed, then." 

He sighs. "I can go sleep on the floor in Sirius and Remus' room." 

"They wouldn't have you in the bed?" you joke lightly. They have a close friendship. It's nice, even though you might pretend they're a throuple whenever single girls visit the office to ruin his chances. 

"Oh, they probably would." 

"It's fine. Don't… don't bother. It's not a big deal for me if it isn't for you. I know you wouldn't try anything." 

"Yeah?" 

"Of course. You're a bitch, but I don't believe you're that kind." 

James laughs loudly, his chuckles shaking the mattress. You swear you can feel his eyes on your face, though the room is bathed in darkness and the strings of scarce red light blinking from the alarm clock. 

"Good. I'm not that kind of bitch," he agrees. 

"Well. Goodnight." 

"Yeah, goodnight, shortcake." 

You roll your eyes at his nickname. Whether your short or tall isn't his concern, James calls you shortcake because he's very tall, and he holds that against you often like a schoolyard tease, papers held out of reach, your figurines hidden in alcoves or on top of cabinets.

You turn onto your favoured side and try not to care that you're facing him. James falls asleep first, his breath slowing until a snore emerges, his weight dipping the cheap mattress. Combined with your own, you start to slide toward one another. 

Fucks sake, you think, edging back. 

Space reestablished between you, you close your eyes and try not to think about what he looks like when he sleeps. As you nod off, you feel the soft skin of a hand curling around your forearm. A quarter circle rubbed into your pulse. 

— 

James wakes first, and he is Oh so thankful. He isn't a pervert, he swears, he has no idea why he's curled around you like this. Hugging your arm to his chest like a teddy, his face curved downward, his nose pressed to your forehead, he wakes and he panics hard. 

You aren't touching him back. Sunlight filters in through shitty translucent blinds and kisses your unassuming face, your lashes lightened, your lips pointed down in sleep. He worries something's upsetting you while you doze. He bites his tongue. 

It's none of his business. None of his business why you're having a restless morning. 

James twists and lets your arm fall naturally back onto the sheets, squinting in the sun at the alarm clock. It's barely five AM. You needn't wake for another two hours but you will, if you keep frowning. 

James holds his breath. Carefully, he settles back onto his side facing you and cups your face. It feels too intimate, too much. He pulls his hand away after half of a second, opting to take your hand again instead. 

He's seen you cry before. Bloody hands and knees, humiliated and cold, you'd sniffled on the steps leading into the office and asked him not to tell anyone. Remus and Sirius know everything there is to know about James. His genuine but waning dislike for you, his budding crush. And yet, after pretty much a lifetime telling them every secret he'd ever come into contact with, James didn't tell them about that. He gave you the packet of tissues from his pocket, and he told you a lie about falling in the exact same place a year before you started working with them. 

The expression you gave him then is the same you wear now as he rubs the palm of your hand with his index fingers. You're comforted. Your unseen unhappiness abates.

James falls asleep like that, drawing shapes into your hand. 

—

i love him i want him to be my office frenemy. ty for reading!! pls reblog if u enjoyed it means so much to me!

[spncvr]

waiting room | s. reid

summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!

a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)

SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.

At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:

Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.

Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.

Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.

Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.

Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.

Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses. 

This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.

“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.

Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her. 

“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.

Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it,  “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:

“Fine. I’m fine.”

And the session went on.

PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.

[spineless-lobster]

Right lads I’m gonna sit you all down so we can all have a fun little chat about ✨the lighting in the captain’s flashbacks✨

Have a look at these screenshots from redding weddy and carpe diem, these take place during the day. Notice how the lighting is very warm; there’s golds and browns and you can feel the sun coming through the windows

Now take a gander at these screenshots from redding weddy, they take place during nighttime and the lighting is very cool. Blues and dark greens and blacks, you can feel the bitter chill in the night air

There’s another difference between these two scenes: in the warmer ones, havers is present, and in the cooler ones, havers is gone. Havers quite literally brightens the captain’s life, this is regardless of whatever is happening. In cap’s death scene, the lighting is warm despite the tragic circumstances. When havers tells cap he’s leaving, the lighting is still warm. Any kind of heartbreak the captain feels is eased by havers’ presence, even if he is the source of that heartbreak.

I would also like to note the parallels between these two shots (this fucking window oh my god)

When we first see cap sitting here in redding weddy, he is reliving the memory of havers leaving, the music crescendos as the beloved lieutenant disappears through the gate. Because the scene focuses on havers leaving, the lighting is cool. When we revisit it in carpe diem, cap is reflecting on his death. The main focus of the minor flashback isn’t havers but it highlights a scene where havers is present (the one with the general guy) Thus, the lighting is warm.

Uhhhhh anyways that’s all I have to say about this lol, idk who’s creative decision it was to do this but they deserve a million dollars and I want to give them my hand in marriage

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Two

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 5145

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warnings: 18+ Blog; talk of drug use (no actual using), absent parents, mention of food and alcohol, slow burn, brown fuzzy coat, self doubt, break-up mention, annoyance towards actors, cursing, 2nd POV, that should be it but if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: It’s here!! I’m really excited for this chapter, lots of little things I love about that I’m so excited for you to read. This chapter is where we meet reader and learn a little bit about her. I wanted to also note, there will be an eventual nickname used, we just haven’t gotten to it being used yet so for now I’m not mentioning it. The response to this series has been so amazing and I’m so grateful for all the wonderful feedback!! Another big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for taking the time to beta for me!! You’re a champ for putting up with my spelling errors. Update: adding link to mug that is mentioned -> etsy shop

Series Masterlist / Sweet Creature Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“Diem, you can’t really be considering this?! Did you forget, he was literally doing drugs off of your toilet!” 

You pour another glass of a sweet sparkling wine you’d picked up before heading to Diem’s for your weekly chat session, then settling back into the array of plush couch cushions— a night to decompress a bit, vent and just catch up on the week’s happenings. 

“Well, I’ve already considered and told him yes.”

“What?” You nearly spit your drink out in shock. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I kind of called it when you invited him to Wren’s party. I just— I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Look, I know you’re just being protective, and I’m so grateful for that, I truly am— but you have to just let me make this decision and trust that he’s going to be clean like he says he is. This is his longest stay in treatment, that’s got to be a good sign, right?” 

The one thing you loved most about Diem was her big heart and her constant need to mother everyone around her. 

She had literally taken you under her wing when you’d decided to uproot your entire life and move to a random city you had zero ties to. 

A chance meeting in the halls of your new employer, Ojai Valley School, while rounding the corner and bumping into each other. Your stack of lesson plans scattering about the concrete floor and her basket of snacks toppling over— a dozen or so clementine oranges rolling around the haphazard mess of papers. 

In sorting out each other’s disarray, you’d learned she was a parent of a kindergartener, to which you shared being the new first grade teacher. 

Somewhere in the midst of an over abundance of apologies for the mishap and swapping mini life stories on the walk together to your classroom, her daughter’s class coincidentally next door, there was an exchanging of phone numbers and a no pressure invitation for drinks and appetizers at her place— she dubbed it as a proper ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’ 

A week later you found yourself in Diem’s living room bonding over similar interests with wooden platters of too expensive crackers, hard to pronounce cheeses, thinly sliced deli meats paired with quickly mixed and shaken cocktails over ice. 

She shared her struggles being a single mom who was embarking on a new business adventure all while co-parenting with her ex-boyfriend. You learned her family didn’t live close, parents usually traveling through some part of the world or staying in one of their many extravagant vacation homes, while her brother was some big name movie star— Dieter Bravo, whom you’d seen plastered on the covers of gossip magazines. 

There was an instant friendship between the two of you that flourished as the months went on— a sisterly bond you’d never had being an only child. 

Weekly chats developed into spending not only more time with Diem, but with Wren as well. Dinners and movie nights became a regular thing, rotating hosting duties while Wren always had the final say in the movie. You shared your love for art with them as much as you could, making sure to invite them both when a new artist had their latest installment showing at one of the many galleries in town, Wren always so captivated with your interpretations of the art on display, encouraging her to seek out her own. If Diem ever found herself in a pinch with the hotel, you were more than excited to spend more time with Wren, especially on the warmer days where you both could take advantage of the pool and soak up the California sun. 

You felt like an instant local and less of a transplant after a few months, building your own connections with merchants and finding your own niche outside of teaching within Ojai— you were a welcomed presence. 

“I’m sorry Diem, I just have flashbacks to seeing him slumped over on the bathroom floor, high out of his mind— That look on your face ate me up inside.” You sigh at the recollection of your first meeting of her brother Dieter, all disheveled and extremely inebriated. Diem had cried on your shoulder for hours after everyone had left the party, but you did your best to comfort her as time went on. “I’ll be here for you if you need anything.”

She reaches over to you and gives you a hug, reassurance that she appreciates you always having her back. 

“Thank you. I promise, any little inkling of something being off and he’s out. Just try to be a little nice to him, give him a chance to prove himself. He said he’ll be here in a few weeks and I’d love for you two to get a proper meeting, so let me know what your schedule is looking like.”

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior.” You playfully roll your eyes at her, but you would really try to be as open as you could be, especially for her and Wren. 

“Okay, enough about me and my stuff. What’s new with you?? Any hot dates??”

Your dating life was near nonexistent. Yeah, you dated, but that was as far as things went. 

Your last relationship had ended in a breakup before your move. Both of you wanting different things, you wanting him to move with you and him wanting to stay rooted, while also refusing to try the long distance thing, deciding a clean break was best for the both of you. 

“Ugh. I went on one the other day. One of the teachers cornered me in the break room and insisted on setting me up with her neighbor.”

“And?”

“And, it was a disaster. He was late to the restaurant and then he was excusing himself every fifteen minutes to go to the bar to watch some sport’s playoffs. He also ordered for me off the kid’s menu, said he thought the restaurant was overpriced— he picked it mind you. Safe to say there was nothing ‘hot’ about the date. I literally give up. I’ll live the rest of my life alone— maybe I should get a cat or two.”

Your body slinks back amusingly into the couch cushions. 

“Oh my god. Stop!” She swats jokingly at your limp arm. “You’re so dramatic. Firstly, don’t accept any dates from colleagues— those are always bound to be disastrous! Secondly, you won’t be alone forever. You just have to open yourself up to the possibility of something just happening organically— like fate! Thirdly— no cats! Wren’s allergic and I can’t deal with that mess of meltdowns from her wanting one of her own.”

“Why do you always have to be my voice of reason?!”

“Because that’s what friends are for… Babe!”

“I hate you!” You’re both in a fit of giggles as you toss a pillow across the couch at her. 

“Oh! I do have some good news though! The gallery said they’re holding one last artist showcase before closing the doors and they offered it to me.”

Reverie Studio, a cute little art gallery and workshop space, had become a sanctuary for your creative imagination to live freely. They offered classes throughout the year to varying types of artists, novice to well seasoned, in their workshop space in the back of the gallery. 

The gallery itself was spacious and washed in white, perfect for featuring painted canvases, framed photographs or ceramic sculptures. Giant bright windows facing Main Street, allowed for ample viewing for visitors. 

You’d taken a few classes as a way to submerse yourself into the community, hoping to build some connections with like minded individuals. At one point you’d noticed the bulletin board that held a plethora of business cards, class schedules and other various information about town happenings, had a help wanted flier for the studio itself looking for someone to teach a few classes. You, being a teacher already, as well as an artist, decided to seek out more information. They hired you on the spot and allowed you to decide what classes you wanted to offer. 

The latest flier was informing that the owners decided they would be closing their doors soon. If you had the means, you would have put an offer on the business to keep it open, unfortunately with your salary as a teacher it wouldn’t be feasible. While you were sad you’d be losing Reverie, you were grateful they considered your art to be shown as their last installment. 

“What?! That is amazing! Finally people can see the amazing things you paint— I’ve been dreaming of this moment for you!! Also, I told you my brother’s an artist right?”

“Like, ‘I’m an actor, art is my passion’ while having zero idea how watercolor works…” Air quotes adding emphasis to your mockery.

“I thought you said you were going to be on your best behavior?” She tosses a pillow right back at you, nearly knocking over your empty glass in the process. 

“Sorry, I had to get it out.” Thankfully she could sense your campy tone. 

“I’m going to head out, there’s a stack of papers calling my name that I need to grade.” You state, grabbing your purse and making your way to the front door. “I’ll see you at drop off.” Throwing her a wave as you walk down the path leading to the main sidewalk. 

“Oh! Before I forget, Wren asked if she could come paint sometime. Told her I’d run it by you first and see if there was any space for her.” 

“Of course— Anytime!”

“Perfect. We'll chat more about it later then. Text me when you get home!” Diem leaning into the door frame, practically shouting as you cross the street, knowing you live a less than five minute walk down the block. 

“Oh! And I want to have you over for dinner when Dieter gets here!!”

“Goodnight Diem!” Throwing a lax wave back at her. 

*

Dieter can’t remember a time he’d slept so well. Could be the comfortable pillow top mattress, or it could be due to the fact this is the most relaxed he’s felt in years. 

There’s clanking coming from what he can only assume is the kitchen, followed by the strong aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Diem is awake, still the early bird that she’s always been. 

He begins to extricate himself from the cushy bed, swinging his legs over the edge, his body following suit into a somewhat hunched over sitting position. His fingers pick at the tiny sleep crystals embedded in the corners of his eyes, a few blinks to adjust to the light, his sight still a bit blurry. 

An audible lazy yawn works its way through his mouth, sleep still ruminating within him for the time being. He reaches over to the side table to grab his black framed glasses, a few swipes over the lens glass with the crumpled top sheet before he’s lifting them to the window for a quick smudge inspection— passable and now snug to his face. 

He convinces his body to rise to his full height, joints and muscles adjusting to their proper positions after several hours of a sedentary vacation. A quick roll of the neck and overhead arm stretches ramp up his alertness. 

Stepping over yesterday’s clothes still plopped in the middle of the floor, he digs through his bags in search of something to cover his boxer clad body with the intent to make the trek through the house to a cup of rich amber heaven. 

The air has a slight chill to it, not an uncommon occurrence being tucked in a valley on a California morning. He pulls on his favorite lounge pants, dark stripes pair with a thin cottony fabric worn in from years of wearing— a security blanket of sorts. Throwing his giant fuzzy overcoat over a wrinkled shirt while taking a few deep breaths, schooling his trepidation and the fact that a new life awaits him on the other side of the door. 

*

Sure enough, Diem is busy moving about the kitchen. A mom through and through multitasking her way through the morning— coffee made with mugs set out, breakfast of eggs and toast plated waiting to be eaten,  and a million other little tasks that seem to keep her attention focused. 

“I can’t believe you still have that damn coat, I beg you don’t wear it in public.”

“Good morning to you too!” That first sentence a bit gravelly as he looks down to inspect the coat Diem had just insulted. “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“It makes you look— a little tacky and less ‘I’ve finally got my life together.’” He shakes his head at her remark, deciding he’ll leave out the part that it’s just a house coat these days. 

“How’d you sleep?”

“Good. Best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Gonna need to know where I can get one of those beds for home.” Grabbing one of the mugs and pouring himself a decent amount of coffee, then positioning himself onto one of the barstools in front of his awaiting breakfast. 

“That would be a “we’re so proud of you, here’s a bed” gift from mom and dad.” He can sense her somewhat sore tone as she wipes up the counters. 

“You hear from them lately?” 

“Aside from the gifts they send regularly for Wren and a few emails updating on their whereabouts, they seem to be living up to the absentee status quite well.” 

He doesn’t expect the weight of her response to hit him so fiercely, knowing his own presence had been equally lacking as well. 

“I’m sorry.” It seems like the only adequate answer. 

“For what? It’s not your fault our parent’s decision to be unavailable the majority of our lives. I mean, I love them and I know they love us, but they sure have a weird way of showing it.”

“Yeah— well, I can’t say my track record has been any better over the years.” He wishes he could omit the guilt, but acknowledging and accepting his own absence seems like a more appropriate approach to mending the past. 

“Hey, no! I’m not trying to project any of my thoughts onto you.” Her movements halted, giving her full attention to the conversation. “You made an effort, regardless of your— your situation through the years, you still made time for us. We see them maybe twice if we’re lucky. Sometimes they surprise Wren with a FaceTime call, probably so she doesn’t forget what they look like.”

His fork scrapes through his runny eggs, taking his anger out on them seems like a better alternative to a seething phone call to his parents. He’s not sure they’d even answer if he did call. Communication between him and them was tenuous, having sent them a few emails while in rehab, their only response was “That’s great. We love you!”

“Plus, you’re here now. Look at it as a second chance to make up for lost time.” 

Before he’s able to give much thought to the prospect of a second chance, the trotting of tiny footsteps is heard coming from the hall. 

“Uncle Dude!!! You’re here, you’re here!” Wren’s tiny little body launched into his chest as he tried to squat down to her level. 

Uncle Dude. When Wren was younger, she had trouble with his name when her vocabulary started to expand, certain letter patterns fairing more difficult than others. Dieter joked around with the idea of her calling him ‘The Dude’, The Big Lebowski being one of his comfort films. Diem tried everything in her powers to make it not happen, but it only took an entire weekend of Dieter coaching the then 3 year old and Uncle Dude came to be. 

“Hey Birdie! Gosh, you’ve gotten so big!”

“I know, mama said I hafta eat all my vegetables ‘cause they will make me grow and grow and grow.” She wraps her little arms around his neck, squeezing him tight before pulling back and fully inspecting him. “You brought teddy jacket wiff you!!” Her little hands running through the brown sherpa fabric of his coat, which she claimed felt like a teddy bear— Teddy Jacket. 

“Brought it just for you.” He shoots a sarcastic smile over to Diem, who is doing her best to not make her eye rolling obvious, then plants a kiss to Wren’s tiny forehead.

“Okay Miss Wren, you’ve got to eat breakfast and get dressed for school.” Diem pulling out the mom voice, making both him and Wren exchange a brief scrunched expression. 

Wren climbs the legs of the barstool and settles into its seat. “But I wanna stay wiff Uncle Dude! He always gets me donuts for breakfast!” Her little voice floats through the air and wraps itself around his heart, clenching over how much he’s missed her. 

“Uncle Dude is actually taking you to school today, so you’ll have plenty of time before school to hang out. And we can do donuts a different time, eat your eggs then go get yourself dressed.” 

“Are you gonna be here when I get home too?!” Looking at Dieter with pleading eyes. 

“Heck yeah! I’ll be here for a while!” Dieter leans in close enough so only Wren can hear. “If you hurry up, we can get donuts before school, our secret!”

“YAY!!!” 

Diem looks over her shoulder at the two of them, an eyebrow cocked at Wren’s abrupt excitement, then looking at Dieter and only getting an innocent shoulder shrug from him. 

“I’m going to head out then if you’ve got this under control.” Dieter nods in agreement, finishing off the remainder of his coffee. “Perfect! I already left a message with the school you’d be dropping her off. No need to worry about picking her up, she has a wellness check with her doctor, so I’ll take her to that before we head home.” Diem scurrying around, grabbing items from different areas of the room and tossing into her oversized tote, before giving a kiss to Wren and quick hug to Dieter. “I’ll see you both later. Love you, bye!!” The door shutting quickly behind her. 

There’s a beat of silence as Wren and Dieter exchange looks, as if they know what each other is thinking. 

“DONUTS!!” Both announce in unison, high fives and uncoordinated movements as they both flail about. 

“Alright Birdie, let’s get dressed and go!”

“Let’s go!!”

*

As promised, donuts were a designated stop on the way to school. Wren’s excitement was written all over her face as she peered through the bakery case deliberating on her choice. Dieter missed this, moments spent with her as she explored the world around her. Thinking back to his conversation with Diem, this instance is proof second chances exist. 

“Thanks Uncle Dude for the donut!” He glances back at Wren in the rear view mirror, buckled securely into her booster seat, flakes of pink donut frosting smeared around her mouth, curls slightly bouncing as she bobs her head to the music she requested as Dieter buckled her in. 

“No problem Birdie. Here, why don’t you wipe your face— hide the evidence.” He hands her a napkin, hoping she can manage on her own— she seems to do a good enough job of it. 

“Donuts make me happy.” 

“They do, do they?”

“Yeah! They make me smile. Mama says being a movie star makes you happy.”

“She did?” 

“Yep! Does it?”

He thinks it does, or it used to at least. There was a time when the love he had for acting was limitless— he would eat, sleep and breathe acting. Getting sought after roles, memorizing pages worth of lines, stepping into character the instant the director said action. Acting filled a void in him that had been vacant for years. 

“It used to make me really happy.”

“But it doesn’t anymore?” 

“I don’t know, still trying to figure that out.”

“Mama says your heart knows when it’s happy, so just listen to your heart Uncle Dude!”

“I’ll do that, thanks Birdie.”

*

Most of your school mornings ran the same way. You tend to wake before your alarm ever has a chance to alert you, you’ve made such a habit of it you’re not sure why you bother setting one. You read somewhere about how cold showers at the start of the day help wake your mind, could be total bullshit but for some reason you believe it works— they’re the longest 2 minutes of your day. Being a private school teacher, the attire on school grounds tends to lean more conservative than your ‘normal life uniform’ of sundresses, distressed jeans and comfy band tees, but it makes for a quick selection of dark slacks and a comfortable top. 

The coffee machine has already run through its cycle by the time shoes are on and your school tote is securely placed on your shoulder. Grabbing your favorite coffee mug that reads “Let It Gogh”, a gift from a student last year, you fill it with an adequate amount of coffee and a splash of cream before you're out the door. 

The local bakery is your only stop before work, offering a good selection of breakfast sandwiches, bagels, and an enticing selection of donuts— you may or may not add one to your order of an egg and cheese sandwich some mornings. 

You tend to breeze through your class preparation before the bells ring for the start of school. 

The day's lesson plan already looked over, worksheets separated and ready for the students, and the whiteboard cleaned and daily tasks written out— you find it helps deter your students from having to ask “what are we doing today?” more than necessary. 

There’s usually a good 30 minutes of quiet before the first student arrives, and if there’s no need for you elsewhere on campus, you take the time to read your latest book you picked up from Bart’s Books and hope you can get through a good amount of it the short time you have. 

Like clockwork, your students trickle in with their ‘good mornings’ and vibrant stories about their world. 

Some parents opt for a quick ‘drop and go’, while others linger a bit in the back of the class until you’re ushering them out when the bell rings. You enjoy the parent interaction. It’s usually spent answering homework questions or sharing upcoming events happening in the class, with the occasional non-school related discussions when Diem swings by with Wren— you both getting caught up in some story that is not really relevant to anything school related. 

There’s a quick flash of a familiar little face, Wren placing her purple backpack on its assigned hook, then running back to where you’re standing at your desk. 

“My Uncle Dude brought me today!”

“Your Uncle Dude?” Diem hadn’t mentioned not being able to bring Wren this morning, and you’ve never heard of this “Dude” person before. 

“Yeah! He’s a movie star!!” Her little frame is buzzing with excitement, not able to stand still as she bounces on the balls of her feet. Before you’re able to question her further, she zips off towards her table, waving to someone over your shoulder. “Byyyyye Uncle Dude!!! See you later!!” 

You’d been so wrapped up in your brief conversation with Wren, you hadn’t noticed the man standing at the door to your classroom. 

He doesn’t seem to notice you staring as he leans against the door, watching Wren getting herself situated with her fellow classmates. 

Dieter Bravo. Or at least you think it is. No it definitely is.

The images of your first encounter with him flood your mind. You’re not really sure what you expected when Diem said he was clean and sober now, but you definitely didn’t expect to find him attractive on any level. 

He looks healthy and like he might actually sleep regularly, his eyes seemingly less sunken in from what you can see with his glasses perched perfectly on his face. His hair slightly shorter and still a little bit of a mess but purposefully, it seems to suit him though. 

Your eyes roam a bit further down, noticing he seemed to have traded his disheveled clothes for a more put together yet laid back style. A white t-shirt under a black blazer that seems far too formal for school drop off and a snug pair of dark wash jeans. 

You shouldn’t be ogling him like this, but your brain is having a hard time controlling itself. 

“Hello?”

You must have zoned out pretty hard because you didn’t realize he was standing so close now, and attempting to get your attention. 

“Oh— H-hi! Sorry, I was lost in thought there for a second.” You can feel your face heating up, trying to get your thoughts together. 

“Hi, I’m Wren’s teacher—“

“I’m Dieter, Wren’s Uncle—“

You both attempt to introduce yourselves, speaking at the same time, hands knocking into each other awkwardly before properly situating for a shake. 

Heat begins to rise in your body, you’re completely flustered by his subdued energy and the way he’s looking at you with his soft brown eyes. 

“Sorry— you first, please.” 

“I’m Dieter, Wren’s Uncle. Diem asked if I could drop her off, said she already had it called into the front office.” 

“Yes— yes! Sorry, I must have not looked over my notes thoroughly this morning and missed that message.”

“I like your mug.” Pointing to your Van Gogh mug you forgot you were holding, he laughs as he reads the message on the front. 

As if you didn’t know what was already on it, you instinctively lift the mug to view it, like it was your first time seeing it. 

“T-thanks, a student gave it to me last year and it’s kind of become my favorite one to use for school, I’ll be sad if something ever happens to it.” You internally cringe at your tendency to over share, words just aimlessly falling from your mouth, trying to mask your nervousness. 

“Keep it safe then. Anyways— I’m an actor, as Wren so kindly informed you. I normally live down in LA when I’m not shooting movies, but I’m—I’m taking some time off, no movies or anything at the moment, going to spend a few months with my sister and Wren, help out however I can.” 

Ah! There it is, the “I’m an actor” spiel making the attraction you felt towards him flee instantly. While he may be a new cleaned up version of the Dieter Bravo you met a year ago, he’s still just a typical Hollywood actor who likes to talk about himself at any chance he can get. Having had your fair share of run-ins with actors before, they’re all the same as far as you’re concerned— his career holds zero significance to you in any way. 

Releasing a heavy sigh as you remember Diem’s plea to be on your best behavior, you school your annoyance at his mentioning of it.

But unbeknownst to you, he can sense your lack of interest in what he’s saying and decides his introduction is over. 

Thankfully, you’re literally and figuratively saved by the bell. 

“Well, I better let you get to your class then.”

“Yeah— I’m sure I’ll see you around Mr. Bravo. Have a great day.” 

You turn towards your desk hastily placing your mug down in exchange for a stack of worksheets, then making your way to the front of the class to get your lesson started. 

“1-2-3, eyes on me! Good morning everyone! Please get a pencil while I pass these papers out.” 

Dieter stands in the doorway, observing your interactions with your students, a stark contrast to the coldness you’d given him at the end of your conversation. 

*

The rest of the day flew by once it started, the short interaction with Dieter unfortunately flitted through your mind more than you'd have liked it to. But you didn’t let your aversion towards him have any effect on your day. 

After closing up your class and dropping off attendance sheets in the front office, you made your way home, looking forward to an evening of drinks and gossip. 

A quick change out of your school clothes into some jeans, T-shirt and flip-flops, you filled your canvas tote with a chilled bottle of white wine and the cheeses you’d told Diem you’d bring over. 

Being that it’s roughly a 5 minute walk from your house to Diem’s. The neighborhood is quiet most days, giving you a chance to really enjoy the ambiance of everyone’s front gardens and a few neighborly ‘Hello’s’ as you stroll down the sidewalk.

Nearing Diem’s house, noticing her car in the driveway, a sense of relief washes over you at the thought of Dieter being out and the chance of running into him would be slim. You were ready to unwind for the evening. 

Front door unlocked, you let yourself in— both of you exchanging keys early on in your friendship in the off chance there was an emergency or one of you showed up to a locked door. 

Hearing Diem rustling around in her pantry, not hearing your arrival, you decide to start unpacking your tote and announce your presence. 

“You have no idea how much I need this tonight Diem!”

Not hearing a response from her, you continue placing things on her counter and continue to spill to her. 

“Also! Would have been nice to have a heads up that your brother would be dropping Wren off— was not prepared for that. But what a difference a year makes, he looks good, definitely was attracted to him for a split second— sorry I know you don’t want to hear that, but honestly such a difference from my first interaction with him being when I was yelling at him for being strung out in your bathroom.”

Still no word from her as you open the bottle of wine and unwrap the cheeses in preparation for the evening. 

“You’d be so proud of me too! I was on my best behavior despite how much I was annoyed with listening to him talk about himself— Hey, did you happen to get those crackers with the figs and olives?? I grabbed that honey goat cheese that we like to eat with them.”

The silence carries on from the pantry. No more movement. No sign of Diem. 

“Diem? You okay? Hey, I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have mentioned your brother being attractive— and I honestly was really nice to him. I mean, at least I think I was.”

You can hear Diem finally making her way to join you in the kitchen. 

Only when you look up, prepared to give her a big welcoming smile, your face immediately fades into a look of surprise when you realize it’s not Diem at all— it’s her brother, Dieter. 

“Diem’s not home.”

“Oh fuck—”

Next

[littlemisspascal]

New Writers added to The Pedro Library 🐼

@anabdaniels @whocaresstillthelouvre

New Works Added ✨

Many fics aren’t appearing in the tags when searching. If I miss yours, please let me know 💗 Or add me to your taglist cuz I love being tagged 😊

As always, if you would like me to remove your work from the rec list, please let know and I’ll remove them asap 😊

@the-blind-assassin-12 Din What Can Still Be Known

@beskarandblasters Din Ner Riduur (My Spouse)

@lamamasjamas Din Love at First Sight

@undercoverpena Joel Midnight Bedsheets + Hiding in a Car with Joel Miller

@stylesispunk Joel ‘I love you, it’s ruining my life’

@guessimwritingficsagain Joel It’s Lonely At the End of the World (Until It’s Not)

@backtothefanfiction Joel I Run To You / Din Brown Eyes / Frankie One Night Changes Everything + All The Good Girls Go to Hell

@milla-frenchy Joel 10MG

@criticallyacclaimedstranger Joel 37 Minutes

@boliv-jenta Marcus P A Lazy Afternoon of Edging / Dieter Carpe Diem

@something-tofightfor Oberyn Fool’s Gold

@djarinmuse Dieter Just the Lilac

@popcornforone Dieter The Drinks Break

@katareyoudrilling Tim Evidence

@morallyinept Tim Polaroids

@absurdthirst @storiesofthefandomlovers Tim Evidence of a Date

@toomanystoriessolittletime Frankie Relax

@novemberrain-writes Javier Free Falling

@iamskyereads Javier Margin of Error

@nerdieforpedro Dave Muted Peach

[charles-simmons-fanfiction]

Late summer nights - Todd Anderson / Neil Perry

Description: Neil is a summer person, and Todd is a Neil person. That's the story. 💛 [fluff, 800 words]

By the way, this is based off of this post! It's a headcanon by the super cool and awesome @perksofbeingpoet <3 This was so fun to write, I might write more summer fics with dps <- me projecting how energetic I get during summer on them

Todd could swear he would pass out from the heat any second now. Neil, on the other hand, hadn't been this energetic it's been weeks.

"Physics homework, done!" Neil exclaimed victoriously, closing his notebook and throwing it on his desk.

"Already? How?" Todd had just finished the first half of his work, and he hadn't even started the one for chemistry. Soon summer break would start and the teachers weren't taking it easy on them, not that they ever did.

"It looks like it'll rain tomorrow, explains why today's so hot," Neil ignored his question. The window was wide open and he had half his body out of it, only a small push away from falling. "We should go outside! While we still can, y'know."

"What? No, I still have way too much work to do," the physics assignment in front of him was pushed aside before he could protest.

"I'll give you the answers and explain them to you tomorrow. C'mon!" Neil grabbed him by the arm. Todd wanted to insist, but he wanted to go with him a lot better.

They had to be silent while they sneaked out, so, naturally, they couldn't stop laughing. It was quite a struggle and they had to be constantly shushing the other.

Once they got outside, the hot wind blew on their faces. Todd considered going back in again.

Neil smiled and, without any warning, took off running to the woods, laughing way too loudly as Todd tried to catch up with him. They didn't stop running for a while, to not risk getting caught.

"Oh my god, shut up!" Todd covered Neil's mouth with his hands, pushing him against a tree to keep him quiet. "Are you crazy?? There's no way no one heard us!" Despite his heart beating quickly from the adrenaline, he could only laugh with him.

"Carpe Diem, my dear," Neil's voice came out muffled and he gently took Todd's hand off his mouth. "We'll be fine."

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, looking into each other's eyes, close enough to feel their hot breath on their already warm cheeks. A light breeze wiggled the trees and everything felt silent, except for the crickets probably not too far away.

Neil's deep brown eyes seemed to shrink when he smiled, almost sparkling as he looked at him so contently. His pink lips were slightly parted and a strand of hair had fallen on his face. He had an image of graceful disarray, and the night suddenly didn't feel as half as warm as his presence did.

"Your hair is getting long," was all that Todd managed to say.

Neil was caught slightly off guard and chuckled. "Yeah, I have to get a haircut soon."

"Please don't," Todd asked, maybe a little too fast. "It looks great like this."

"Thanks," they broke eye contact awkwardly, not knowing how to continue a conversation, and also not really wanting to.

It was way too hot. Todd couldn't understand how anyone could even like summer. He had always hated the way his hand felt sweaty, and how hard it was to fall asleep even with the window open. Also, any class outside was insufferable if there was sun.

At the same time, Neil seemed to be doing so well. And let the truth be said, it only took a little attention to see how depressed he could get some days. But not recently. No, Neil seemed to be genuinely doing fine.

Todd smiled at the thought, and for the first time, he hoped summer would last as long as possible. "Next weekend, if we finish our homework, we should go get ice cream. To make the heat more bearable," he shyly suggested, mentally repeating "carpe diem" to himself.

"I was thinking about that! I'm sure the other's would be super down for i-"

"Wait, no," Todd stopped him. "I meant like, you and me."

"Oh," Neil was taken aback, but nodded slowly, a smile creeping on his face. His tone was soft when he spoke. "Yes, I think we should."

The two went silent again, and Todd did his best not to smile like an idiot. The next hour wasn't anything but mundane chatting and walking around, but they wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

At some point, Neil tried to take his hand as they walked, but Todd pulled it back. "It's way too hot for this," he complained, yet eventually gave in and took Neil's hand back. Neither of them mentioned it.

"I love summer," Neil stated matter-of-factly. "It's easily the best season. To me, at least. What's your favorite?"

"You"

"What?"

"Autumn"

Again, neither of them mentioned it. Although Todd briefly considered hitting his head against a tree and just staying there forever.

That night, Neil fell asleep as soon as he got back to his dorm, without even changing. Todd didn't, it was too hot. He sighed, and looked at his roommate, who was smiling in his sleep.

"He's crazy," Todd thought, still not getting why anyone would like summer, but suddenly not feeling so bad about it. He fell asleep with a soft smile too. At least they'd get ice cream.

💛.

[ladamedusoif]

Provenance

A Gentleman Thief x F!Museum Professional Reader Story

Part of the HCU (Heritage Crimes Universe) - click for masterlist

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x F!Museum Professional Reader

Summary: Two months after their reunion, the museum curator finds herself on an unexpected Parisian adventure. 

Content warnings: Smut; Oral sex (F receiving); unprotected but safe PiV sex; discussion of contraception; alcohol consumption; angst; discussion of illegal acquisition of stolen objects during WW2; (ethical) heritage crimes; theft; sort-of fluff; no physical description of Reader beyond her professional attire, though she has a nickname (chérie).

Rating: E (18+ MDNI)

Word count: ~7,500

A/N: They're back! The Thief is just too charming to resist. A follow-up to My Kiss, Only For You and Reunions.

I am no longer using a taglist: please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up to date with my work.

The package is, unmistakably, a book. Wrapped in brown paper, a neatly-typed address label affixed to the front. No return address. 

It’s pretty explicitly addressed to you, though. Right down to the department. You rack your brain, trying to remember whether you’d ordered something and forgotten. Or maybe it’s a gift?

You slip it out of the wrapping carefully. The dust jacket design suggests it’s from the 1950s, 1960s at the latest, but it’s in impeccable condition. 

The Museums of Paris: A Guide

The front cover features a photo of the Louvre, the facades still soot-blackened before their cleaning in the later part of the twentieth century, with beautifully-dressed tourists milling around the old entrance to the museum. 

Before you can leaf through the book, seeking a receipt or gift card or invoice of some kind, your desk phone rings. The museum director. And they want to speak to you: now. 

***

“We’ve had an…unusual request.”

You slip into the old leather chair opposite the director’s desk, covered in papers and catalogues. “An unusual request?”

She takes off her dark-framed glasses and smiles. “One of our major donors. They’re potentially about to buy some important art objects from a private Parisian collector, and we are hoping that - in time - they might donate them to us.”

“Okay…”

“But they don’t feel entirely confident appraising the collection without expert guidance.”

You nod slowly. 

The director looks at you as if she’s waiting for the penny to drop. 

“They want you to go to Paris with them, as an expert consultant. They will pay for all your expenses, travel, per diems - the lot.”

You just about manage to stop your jaw falling open. 

“Um…why me? I’m not one of the senior curators or object specialists, maybe they…”

She holds up a perfectly-manicured hand. “Stop there. The donor has explicitly requested you. They believe you are the best equipped to manage their needs on this job.”

“Uh… okay. So, when do I leave?”

She grins. “Two days’ time. And bring some decent clothes - you know how formal some of the French collectors can be.”

As you return to the office, a sensual memory flashes through your brain. Velvet, the colour of good Burgundy wine. Soft lips, coarse beard. Warm bodies pressed together. The most intense orgasm you’ve had in years, maybe ever.

It couldn’t be, surely. It was almost two months since that night and there’d been no missive, no note, nothing. The director said “them”, didn’t she? Not “he”. 

Besides, she’d said the donor was buying the objects. Not, you chuckle to yourself as you sit at your desk, stealing them. However ethical his motives may be. 

Still. No harm in packing some nice lingerie. Just in case.

***

It is still dark when your phone buzzes to let you know that the car - paid for and sent by the client - is waiting outside, ready to bring you to the airport for your transatlantic flight to Paris. 

You’d expected an Uber, not the gleaming black vehicle pulled up outside your building. Suitcase securely stowed, the driver points out the bottled water and snacks located in the back of the car as he sets off through deserted city streets. 

The surprises keep coming. You are in business class, not coach, for the long flight, resisting the urge to kick your feet and squeal with delight at the unexpected luxury. A smartly-dressed man holds a sign with your name on at Arrivals, and for a moment you wonder if this is the client. He’s another driver, of course - a charming and funny young Frenchman called Youssef, who speaks English with a vague American accent he says he picked up from TV and movies. 

Youssef whisks you into the city, pointing out landmarks along the way. The Eiffel Tower comes into view on the other side of the river as the black car negotiates elegant, narrow streets lined with perfectly-maintained nineteenth-century apartment buildings. 

“Et voilà!” Youssef stops the car and hops out to retrieve your suitcase. You step out, expecting to see the entrance to a hotel - but instead it’s just another residential building, sealed off from the city by two huge, heavy, dark green doors. 

With a bright smile, Youssef taps a little tag off a keypad and one of the doors swings open, revealing a passage leading to a gorgeous courtyard beyond. He refuses your tip - “it’s all good, madame!” - and instead picks up your bag and leads the way, opening another door to reveal the entrance hall proper. The marble floor is polished to perfection; dark red carpet covers the staircase that wraps around the elevator shaft; and there is not a sound to be heard.

”Sixth floor, madame. They’re waiting for you there.” He slides back the door of the elevator, slots your case in beside you, and presses the button. “Have a nice day!”

The elevator is old - possibly pre-World War One, you muse, unable to turn off the specialist’s mind - and slow. As it ascends, you take a moment to gather your thoughts and process this strange little adventure. 

If this was a movie, you’d be walking into a meeting of a criminal gang - or maybe to your death, you suddenly think, panic taking over for a second as the lift comes to a shuddering stop and you step out onto the sixth floor landing.

There is only one apartment entrance up here, as far as you can see. Dark red double doors, perfectly polished brass doorknobs and fittings adorning them, and a tiny doorbell discreetly tucked alongside the doorframe on one side. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and hover your finger over the button. 

The door to the apartment swings open just as your fingertip makes contact with the doorbell, setting off a loud, sonorous bell somewhere within and making you jump.

”Bienvenue, chérie. Come in, won’t you? I do hope I haven’t frightened you.”

***

“You know, if you wanted to ask me out again you could have just called or emailed, like a normal person.”

He hands you a cup of strong black coffee and joins you on the couch in the apartment’s enormous living room. 

“Do you think I’m a normal person?”

You take a sip and chuckle. “You are definitely not a normal person.”

He smiles in satisfaction, eyes taking you in from head to toe as you feel a warmth building deep within.

”It’s very, very good to see you, chérie.” His voice is warm and honeyed, an inviting purr that makes you ache between your legs. 

Today, he is wearing a black cashmere turtleneck with a pair of perfectly-tailored grey dress pants and some heavy, brown-framed glasses. It’s all you can do not to climb on top of him. 

“It’s been almost two months, Thief. Did you forget about me?”

He shakes his head, eyes softening with what you want to believe is genuine regret. “Never. I had to spend some time away, in South America - dealing with the family business, you know - and then I came here, to look at Madame Deseine’s…collection.”

The way he enunciates the final word gives you pause. What was in this “collection”?

“So my invitation here was just an excuse to see me, is that it? Because you weren’t back in the city yet?”

He looks at you in surprise. “Of course not! I mean, I’m very happy to see you again.” A little smile, eyes twinkling. “But no, I need your expertise. And your company is…a nice bonus.”

“My expertise?”

He sits back and crosses his legs, holding your gaze. “You are a specialist in the kinds of decorative arts and objects in Madame Deseine’s collection, I believe. And you are fluent in French. Year abroad in Lyon, correct?”

Your mouth falls open and you quirk your head. “How did… have you been… were you digging for information on me? That’s a violation of trust, and -“

He interrupts your fury with a chuckle. “Chérie, it’s all on your museum staff page profile. Qualifications, time abroad, special areas of expertise.”

You blush, embarrassed, and stare down into the dark swirl of your coffee as an awkward silence takes hold in the apartment’s tasteful interior. 

“I’m sorry, chérie. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Trust me, you are exactly the right person for the job.” 

He extends a hand towards yours, long fingers gently stroking the back of your hand. When you look up, his dark eyes are warm and genuinely apologetic. 

“I guess I’m not used to being…pursued, like this.”

He arches an eyebrow. “In what sense?”

You smirk and stand up. “In every sense, Thief. Now: are you going to explain this ‘job’ to me or not?”

His gaze - taking you in, a smile on his lips - is enough to set you aflame. 

“I am. But over dinner, I think.”

***

The waiter perfectly pours a little more white wine into each of your glasses before returning the bottle to the stainless steel ice bucket and leaving the two of you to your meals. 

He raises his glass to you, and you return the gesture.

You were not surprised when the car had pulled up outside an elegant, discreet restaurant tucked away in the Seventh Arrondissement. It was exactly his style: subtle, timeless, and exuding quality even before he held the door open and you stepped inside.

“So.” He swallows a bite of his monkfish and takes a sip of wine. “Madame Deseine.”

“Madame Deseine.”

You start to eat your meal as he explains. A genuine and respected art collector, Madame Deseine lived outside Paris in her family’s country estate, surrounded by an exceptional array of mostly nineteenth and early twentieth-century paintings, decorative arts, sculpture and furniture. As she grew older, she had begun to sell some parts of the collection - but remained extremely guarded about its exact contents.

“There are some…questions about the provenance of some of the items in the collection, or at least items we think are in the collection. Mostly late nineteenth-century decorative arts - clocks, vases, that sort of thing - but also some small art nouveau sculptures and figurines.”

You take a sip of your wine and narrow your eyes. “And this is where you come in?”

He nods. 

“You’re planning to steal some of her collection?”

He shakes his head, pauses, then nods before shaking his head again.

“Kind of, not really. Didn’t you hear what I said about provenance?”

“You think she’s not being entirely honest about her methods, about how she came by the collection?” In a world increasingly attuned to the repatriation of looted and stolen objects to their rightful place, you were deeply familiar with the importance of the provenance paper trail. 

He dabs at the corner of his mouth with the linen napkin. “Some of the collection. I believe that some of the collection came into her family as a result of looting and theft, that these items were not restored to their rightful owners, and that she is well aware of this fact.”

“You know that some of the most important art collectors in France before the war were Jewish families, no doubt.” You nod and he continues. “And that many of those families, even if they were in the minority lucky enough to escape the round-ups and the camps, had to leave behind those collections.”

”And when they were gone, the collections were…dispersed.”

He shakes his head. “Not dispersed. Stolen. Some of the surviving members of those families had their possessions located and restored, but not all. And I have been reliably informed that some of those missing items are currently in the hands of Madame Claudine Deseine.”

You swallow a bite of your salmon and size him up. “Aha. And this is why an ethical gentleman thief is required, I suppose?”

He gives you a knowing smile. The way the candlelight catches the coppery flecks in his brown eyes makes your breath catch for an instant. 

“I have been asked by a number of individuals to retrieve the objects stolen from their families over eighty years ago, and which have made their way into Madame Deseine’s collection without regard for their provenance.” He chews thoughtfully on a steamed green bean. 

“So where, exactly, do I come in, Thief?”

”I am going to buy some of the collection. But in order to be sure that the missing objects are in the Deseine chateau and to cross-check the gaps in the provenance records…I need to gain her trust. Or rather - you need to gain her trust.”

You raise your eyebrows and take another sip of wine. You might need something stronger by the end of the night.

”You aren’t seriously asking me to steal art, are you?” you hiss. He shakes his head furiously.

”Absolutely not. But I know Claudine Deseine’s reputation, and I know she won’t just let a potential buyer see the whole of her collection. She will, however, be a little more welcoming to a specialist who has kindly agreed to evaluate the items properly. Oh, and to look through the provenance records, to save us all time.”

”So what, I just turn up with you and hope she lets me into her secret stash of stolen stuff?”

He chuckles at the alliteration. “Not quite. But you may need to butter her up, tell her you’ve heard extraordinary things about the rare items she has, ask if she might let you see these things you’ve only read about in catalogues. And when you’re in, you can use your expertise to confirm that these are the items we are looking for, and then look for any gaps or obvious forgeries in the accompanying paperwork.”

”And how, exactly, do you propose to liberate the items from this chateau?”

He taps his nose. “Chérie, telling you that would make you completely complicit. I will handle it, you will wait in the apartment.”

You purse your lips. “I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Deseine has knowingly sat on these things too long - why else would she hide these valuable items from any public descriptions of her collection? The government ignores the claims from the descendants because, for the most part, they live in the US.” He finishes the remaining wine in his glass. “And I, personally, cannot resist a challenge.”

“I have one condition. Apart from not becoming more implicated in this than I already am.”

“Name it.”

”That. That’s my condition. I want your name.”

He chuckles and looks down at his empty dinner plate. “Chérie, I cannot.”

”You’re asking me to help you steal back some very valuable art, and you can’t give me your name?”

”If you know my name you will know too much. And I don’t know why you need to know, anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “I like to know who I’m working with. And, on occasion, who I��m sleeping with, or who’s eating me out on my desk.”

To your satisfaction, he splutters on his sparkling water. 

”I still can’t tell you,” he says, recovering his composure.

”Nothing stopping me guessing, though,” you whisper mischievously. “Let’s see. Giacomo.”

He gives you a withering glance.

”Not that, then…Pietro.”

An eye-roll. 

“Dave.”

”Do I look like a ‘Dave’ to you?”

You giggle as the waiter takes away your empty plates. “No, that’s true. Pierre?”

He groans and shakes his head, but his smile is unmistakable. “Don’t make me regret this, chérie.”

***

Back in the apartment, he rummages in a sideboard filled with bottles of various liqueurs and spirits, before producing a bottle of Courvoisier and two cognac glasses.

“A little digestif, if you’d like?” 

You accept your glass gratefully and inhale the complex, fruity aroma of the alcohol, swirling it gently before taking a sip. Its warmth radiates through your body and you close your eyes and savour the sensation, tucking your feet under you as you cosy up on the couch.

“Tell me about the apartment.”

He smiles, looking around the spacious living room, its nineteenth century interior fixtures somehow matching perfectly with the array of impeccably-chosen twentieth-century furniture. 

“My great-great-grandfather bought it, not long after this building was constructed - late nineteenth century, I think. The family business frequently brought him to Paris, and he needed a base.”

“And the family business is…?”

He huffs a laugh. “You are persistent, chérie. Wine. The family business was - is - wine.” 

You raise your eyebrows and nod as if extremely impressed, and he chuckles, revealing the laughter lines around his eyes that lend his handsome face such character. 

“Well, I can’t pretend to be an expert - what do they call it? An…oenophile, is that it? - so I’m not going to ask for any more details, fear not. My wine knowledge extends no further than ‘that’s quite nice, isn’t it.’”

He feigns horror, recoiling back into the cushions of the sofa. “Chérie, I am going to have to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

You giggle and take another sip of the cognac. “I’m willing to learn, though.”

“That so? Well, I can be your guide, if you’d like.” He finishes his cognac and licks his lips as he looks at you. 

“I…I would like.”

He smiles, takes your glass, and stands up. You follow his lead, wandering behind him into the kitchen where he deposits the empty glasses on a pristine countertop. Every fibre of your being wants to reach for him, to pull him to you, to have him there and then.

“Chérie, I…didn’t want to presume anything.” He swallows hard and turns to face you, eyes a little wary. “About, uh, sleeping arrangements. Hence the guest bedroom.”

You had changed there earlier - a bright, pretty bedroom at one end of the corridor running along the apartment, complete with its own small en suite bathroom. 

“Oh. Of course.” You flush. “A busy day tomorrow.”

His hand finds yours, long fingers caressing yours before he brings it to his lips for a soft, sustained kiss that does nothing to quench the flames of your desire.

“Indeed. That said, if you want company…”

You see the spark in his eyes: teasing, playful, almost daring you to act first. Instead, you meet his gaze with an enigmatic smile.

He pulls away slightly and arches an eyebrow. “If you want company, I am just down the hall. Bonne nuit, chérie.”

***

In the quiet of the guest room you slip out of your clothes and into a wine-coloured silk robe you’d found hanging on the back of the door, freshly pressed. You retrieve your washbag and toiletries and set about your nightly routine. 

You hoped it would be a distraction from the ache between your legs, from the memory of his hand on yours, from the way he looked at you, from his offer of company. From the wet patch you’d noticed on your panties as you undressed. 

“Fuck.”

You close your eyes and lean on the sink for a moment as you take a deep breath before reaching for your moisturiser.

***

He’s sitting on his bed, stripped to his boxers and clad in his own, navy blue silk robe. It hangs open around his body, the colour a perfect complement for his golden skin. 

A knock. He lifts his head from his papers.

“Come in, chérie.”

She peeks playfully around the door. “I was wondering if that offer was still valid. I think I do want some…company.”

“It’s still valid.” He tidies away the paperwork and pats the space beside him on the large bed. “What kind of company did you have in mind?”

She crosses the room, hands reaching for the sash of her guest robe. It falls open as she reaches the bed, revealing the lacy bra and matching French knickers underneath. He inhales sharply, cock twitching at the sight. 

“Up to you. This is your turf, after all.” 

“Ah, but you’re the guest, chérie. Your preference is what counts.”

She shucks off the robe and climbs onto the bed, swiftly straddling him. With a slow roll of her hips, she drags her pussy over his hardening cock, the outline visible under his dark boxers.

“This is my preference. Does it work for you, too, Thief?”

He answers with a hungry kiss as he pulls her tight to him.

***

He tastes of mint and cinnamon and the faintest trace of Courvoisier. You had missed his mouth.

His fingers unhook the clasps of your bra and he tugs it off you, discarding it to a corner of the room. He breaks the kiss, lips pink and wet, and turns his attention to your tits: cupping them, fondling them, squeezing them with his broad hands before he starts to suck on each nipple in turn.

You toss back your head and bite your lip, stifling a loud moan. He releases your breast with a pop of his mouth.

“This apartment is the entire top floor, chérie. You can be as loud as you wish.”

Two fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties and find the warm wetness that’s been building between your legs all day. He looks up at you and grins. 

“On your back, amor.”

French knickers off, he gently pushes your thighs back before resting your legs over his shoulders. He buries his face against your pussy with a delighted groan, the delicious timbre of his voice rumbling against your core. 

He licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, a hand pressing against your belly as your hips instinctively buck upwards with pleasure and need. His tongue swirls lasciviously across your folds, lapping up the wetness, before he begins to suck on your clit. Slow at first, a gorgeous torment; then faster, more insistent, the tip of his tongue flicking over and back over the swollen nub rhythmically in time with your needy moans and whimpers. 

He keeps it up as he slips first one, then two fingers inside you and hooks them just so, chuckling when you cry out.

“Fuck…I’m close, I -“

You let go. You come hard against his face, ecstasy coursing through your body as he keeps on fucking you through it with his fingers, gently pulling out when he senses your overstimulation. 

He moves up and lies beside you, face to face. 

“You enjoyed that.”

You try to slow your breathing. “You think?”

He chuckles, tracing the curve of your hip with his hand. “I enjoyed it, too.”

“And no jewel theft involved this time. So far, anyway.”

He closes his eyes and smiles, humming contentedly as he reaches for your breast, idly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. 

You study his features for a moment, noting the handful of freckles on his face, the way his dark lashes look against his cheeks, the gloss of your own slick shimmering across his pink lips, his chin, his moustache. 

This time, when your tongue swipes against his mouth, he tastes of you. 

You gather some of your own wetness on your fingers by way of lubrication, before tugging down his boxers and taking his cock in your hand. He closes his eyes as you stroke him slowly, steadily, feeling him growing harder under your careful touch.

With your free hand you caress the side of his face, thumb rubbing gently against the grey patches in his beard. 

“I want you, Thief.” 

He opens his eyes and smiles before gently moving your hand away from his cock. He shucks off his robe and shifts into position above you, arms caging your body on either side. 

“You know, I’m on birth control,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. “And you were the last person I was with, and before that…well, it had been a while.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Same. Well, not the birth control, evidently…but the rest. No one but you, not for some time. So…?”

You trail your fingers over his chest, dappled here and there with freckles, and he leans down to kiss you. Different, this time - softer, less desperate, more…tender.

“So you can have me bare, if you want.” 

“Oh fuck, chérie. Yes. Please.” He gestures with his head. “Turn, get on all fours.”

You do as you are told, teasingly wiggling your ass at him once you’re in position. He gives it a light slap and you squeal approvingly until the feeling of his cock opening you up makes you catch your breath.

He sinks slowly inside you, pausing when he’s fully sheathed in your warm pussy. You can hear his breathing becoming a little ragged, hitching as he adjusts to the feeling.

”Feel good, Thief?”

”Incredible, amor. You?” 

“Fucking amazing.”

He takes you slowly at first, a long drag out, a quicker thrust back inside, and builds up a rhythm quickly. The angle is nothing short of perfect and you bury your face against the covers, whining with pleasure. He reaches down and grabs one of your breasts, fingers pressing into the flesh as he fucks you harder and faster. 

“Such a beautiful body, amor. So soft and warm and fuck, such a tight little pussy for me. You feel so perfect on my cock.”

He’s hitting you just right now, another orgasm building rapidly until you come for the second time, muffling your cries in the blankets. You turn to look at him: broad body glistening with perspiration, errant curls falling over his forehead and darkened with sweat, that gorgeous head thrown back as he gets closer and closer.

”Come on, Thief.” You purr your encouragement, never taking your eyes off him. “Come on. Come. Fill me up.”

He comes hard, with a loud cry, hands gently caressing your hips as he finishes deep inside you. 

”I think you missed me.” 

He flops back on the bed and turns to face you as you nestle against him. A mischievous grin plays around his lips. “What on earth makes you say that, chérie?”

You kiss his forehead, tasting the salty sweetness of his damp skin. “Just a hunch. By the way, I have an even better reason why I need to know your name.”

He groans and rolls his eyes affectionately. “Well?”

”Well…if I knew your name, I could scream it out loud the next time you make me come like that.”

His eyes widen and he grins. “You could, I suppose.”

”So? What’s your name…Pablo.”

He fixes you with a teasing glare. “Not Pablo.”

”James. Jimmy. Jimbob?”

He can’t help but burst out laughing this time. “Fine. Fine. Let’s make a deal. If we succeed with Madame Deseine, I’ll give you a name.”

”A name?” The distinction is striking.

”A name. It may or may not be my name. But it will be a name. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

The morning mist hangs low over the French countryside as you drive through the enormous gateway that divides the Deseine estate from the rest of the world, and follow the long drive up to the chateau proper.

You had expected that Youssef would be on driving duty. But it was your gentleman thief at the wheel of the understated hire car, confidently navigating the autoroutes and trunk roads that led to your destination. For a moment you imagine a parallel universe where you are just a normal couple on a normal holiday, not a nameless thief and a museum curator plotting to relieve a woman of her family’s ill-gotten gains.

He had slept well, it seemed. You? Not so much. In the wee small hours of the morning, you lay awake, listening to his steady breaths and ruminating over what, exactly, you were doing here - and why.

He isn’t your partner. Not your boyfriend. Hell, you don’t know if you could call this “dating”. You don’t even know who he is. He stole from your employer because you let your pussy override your brain. He brought you to Paris to aid and abet in another theft. And, instead of turning on your heel and trying to protect your professional reputation, you’d not only agreed to his scheme - you’d fucked him. Again. 

You’d tossed and turned on the pillows as you tried to quiet your mind enough for sleep. Was this really just about sex? Or was something else pulling you into each other’s orbits?

The Deseine chateau emerges at the end of the driveway. It appears at first glance to date from the eighteenth century, with some later additions and extensions. He pulls up near the main door and hops out of the car, quickly bounding over to the passenger side so he can hold the door for you. 

“What a gentleman,” you whisper, straightening the smart blazer and palazzo pants you’d worn for the occasion. 

“At your service,” he replies with a subtle wink. “Just as I was when you needed…company. How are you feeling this morning, by the way? Satisfied, I hope.”

Before you can answer, the enormous main doors of the chateau swing open and a petite woman with snow-white hair emerges, clad in a vintage bouclé Chanel skirt and matching jacket. He moves swiftly up the steps to shake her hand, speaking too quietly for you to pick up on whatever name he’s using today.

“And this is my expert, my advisor, my guiding light!” He gestures towards you, motioning for you to join them. You introduce yourself with a bright smile, trying to read the older woman’s expression, to get a sense of how you might gain her trust.

“It is an honour to be here, Madame. I’m so excited to see the collection.”

Claudine Deseine casts an appraising glance over you from head to toe. Seemingly satisfied, she extends her hand in greeting and addresses you in clipped, precise English. 

“It is very special, I think you’ll agree. Now, do come in - I’ll have my housekeeper Maryam bring us some coffee, and then we can take a look at the objects we’ve discussed.”

***

He is gentlemanly charm personified, you think, watching him follow Madame Deseine around the house. He flirts just enough to have the older woman like putty in his hands, listens attentively, laughs at her jokes, and looks at her with a familiar twinkle in his eyes. 

The recognition gives you pause, but you push it to the back of your mind. You have a plan to stick to today.

She leads the two of you into a bright room at the back of the chateau, overlooking a gorgeous French-style formal garden. “Well, here they are.” She gestures towards a large oak table in the middle of the room, where a variety of figurines and decorative objects are set out. You’d known what to expect: mostly art nouveau, dating from decades either side of 1900; some bronze figures; some beautifully-decorated ceramics, glazes still bright and vibrant; and what you immediately recognise as a small, early Lalique crystal vase.

He claps his hands together in what looks like genuine delight, eyes widening as he moves closer to the table. “May I?”

Madame Deseine beams and nods. He carefully picks up one of the vases, inspecting the swirling, sinuous curves of its painted decoration before checking the makers’ marks on the bottom of the piece. 

“Extraordinary,” he says in a rapt whisper.

“Madame?” She turns to face you. “Would it be possible for me to see the paperwork while he - while my client is inspecting the objects? It would save your valuable time, and you’ve already been so kind to accommodate us.”

She beams. “Of course. Follow me, won’t you?” She opens another door leading off the room and pauses for a moment. 

“I’ll be back tout de suite, monsieur,” she purrs at him as he peers at a bronze figurine. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“You really are most kind, Madame.” He winks, and the esteemed Claudine Deseine titters like a schoolgirl.

***

She flicks a switch and illuminates a large, windowless room located at the rear of the house, in what you suspect might be the former servants’ quarters. “Et voilà. The archive.”

The walls are lined with shelving, filled with hundreds of archive boxes and files. You begin to scan the shelves, trying to work out a pattern in the filing system. 

“They are labelled according to date of acquisition,” she explains. “Achats, purchases, by year.”

You look at her with an expression that you hope conveys innocent confusion. “Gosh, it’s all such a lot. Could you give me dates for the items being sold? Ballpark, if necessary - I just know he’s a stickler for the paperwork but he’s impatient and he won’t take kindly to me taking a long time in here…”

She smiles and nods sympathetically, and for a moment you feel incredibly guilty. “Ah. Men. I understand, my dear.” She pulls out an unmarked, unlabelled box file from the top shelf and retrieves a spiral-bound book.

“This is strictly entre-nous, my dear. My personal catalogue. Everything by date. Let this be your guide. And now, I must return to monsieur.” She looks at you conspiratorially. “If he becomes - how do they say it, antsy? - then he can simply take a walk in my beautiful gardens, hmmm?”

***

He strolls past the elegantly-trimmed box hedges as he makes his way to the elaborate water feature at the centre of the gardens. He couldn’t quite believe how well it had all worked out, so far - your complaint about his impatience had, as planned, won you her sympathy and with it an order from the lady of the house to go and see the gardens while you worked through the papers. 

If necessary, he’d have feigned illness, claimed he needed some air. But it’s always better when they play right into your hands, with something they believe is their idea. 

The gardens are perfectly positioned to give him a view of the back of the house: the doors leading to a terrace, the smaller windows and discreet servants’ entrance. His dark eyes survey the building closely, making a mental map he’ll refer to when he finalises the plan. He has his suspicions, but he needs you to confirm exactly where the collections are hidden. For now, he just hopes you can unlock the final part of the puzzle. 

***

A knock on the door announces the return of Claudine Deseine. 

“Well, have you found what you needed? I do hope the catalogue was useful.”

Little do you know, Madame. 

You replace the lid on a box of papers and nod at a stack of receipts and records of authenticity relevant to the items he was perusing for purchase. 

“Very useful, thank you, Madame.” 

You swallow hard and slow your breathing as you follow her out of the room. 

“Madame, may I - may I make a somewhat bold request?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You may. What is it?”

“I couldn’t help but notice the entries for some of Lalique’s cire perdue work when I was looking at the catalogue. Pieces so rare that we only know they exist because of René Lalique’s own records…”

“Yes. And?” 

“My masters dissertation was on Lalique, Madame. Is there…would you…could I…?”

She stares at you before her features soften into a smile. 

“You want to see them, don’t you?”

***

“Well?”

He waited until you were out of the estate before asking the question, not seeming to notice how quiet you’d been since getting back in the car.

“They’re there. The three Lalique pieces, that rare Sevres vase. She was only too happy to show me.”

“Did you check the makers’ marks?”

You nod, gazing out of the window. “I did. They’re the right pieces. Those Laliques are one of a kind. In different circumstances, it would have been a joy to see them.”

“And the papers?”

He takes the turn to merge onto the autoroute back to Paris, and you wish the nagging doubts about this whole sorry enterprise - about him - would dissipate.

“The private catalogue clearly states when they were acquired, but with no corresponding archival code numbers. I checked the boxes for those years carefully, just to be sure…but there’s no paper trail. Just a note in each catalogue entry recording the dealer they came from - all from the same man.”

He nods, satisfied. “And the room itself? What’s access like?”

“I sent you some photos earlier.” While Madame Deseine had been taking the priceless objects out of their storage boxes, you had snapped some surreptitious pictures. “Access may not be straightforward, though, given the absence of a window.”

He chuckles. “Leave that to me.”

“Won’t she know that you’ve taken the pieces, by the way?”

“F is for Fake, chérie. Nothing some good forgeries cannot fix.”

***

You spend the rest of the journey in silence, while he rambles about various subjects: French motorways, private chateaux, Lalique’s cire perdue process, in which a vase is formed within a one-off wax mould that was discarded afterwards, rendering the pieces unique - and extremely valuable.

“The descendants of the original owners still have, in some cases, the provenance records for these items,” he explains as he parks the car and taps the sensor to open the door into the building. “And now, soon, they’ll have their rightful inheritance.”

You don’t know whether to snap at him or burst into tears.

He takes your coat and saunters into the apartment’s small kitchen, still talking to you as he audibly potters around, opening cupboards and taking out dishes and glassware. You are not really listening, still caught up in your own thoughts. Why the fuck were you here? Were you really willing to risk your entire reputation for a crush and some sex? You’d been lucky to escape any questioning or punishment after the theft of the ruby, after all. 

And what if, as you wondered in the chateau when he was so flirtatious and charming with Madame Deseine, he was just using you? Your knowledge and your veneer of professional respectability helped him steal. Your desire and your body got him off. Win-win for him, but a potentially devastating loss for you.

“Chérie? Didn’t you hear me?”

He’s standing at the narrow door into the kitchen that adjoins the living room, sweater sleeves rolled up.

“Oh. Oh, sorry. I was miles away. What is it?”

“I asked the housekeeper to leave a light dinner for us, as it’s been a long day. It’s nothing fancy - some salads, crudités, cold cuts and cheeses - but I do have a very nice Sancerre chilled in the fridge…”

You force a smile. “That does sound good. I’ll set the table, if you show me where everything is.”

He cheerily opens the various cartons and tubs of food as you ferry the tableware into the open-plan dining area. Behind his usual charming patter, though, is a man increasingly worried about how quiet you’ve been since you left Madame Deseine and her collections earlier that day.

***

“You know you can talk to me, chérie. What’s on your mind?”

Of course he’s noticed. Why wouldn’t he? His perceptiveness is what makes him such an artful, successful thief.

You drain your glass of Sancerre and look him square in the eye.

“Am I really so different to Claudine Deseine?”

He looks confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Am I really so different to Claudine Deseine? In your eyes, I mean. Are you using me, like you’re using her?”

“I’m not using Madame Deseine. I’m buying some of her collection so I can liberate the really valuable pieces and get them back where they belong. That’s stealing, not using.”

You exhale, long and slow. “I saw you today. Handling her just like you do me. The charm offensive, the twinkling eyes, the flirting. She, at least, hasn’t slept with you - though I wouldn’t put it past you to try if you thought it would have helped.”

The words leave your lips, and you instantly regret it. So much for rational calm. Now you just sound like a jealous lover.

He looks at you, jaw ticking, and a blend of fury and hurt burning in his dark eyes. 

“That’s rather unfair, don’t you think?”

Silence.

“I had to win her over. Just like you did. Or did you forget your part in this?”

“Why am I here, Thief? What do you want from me? There must be hundreds of other experts out there you could have enlisted to help you gain access to the collection, theft or no theft. And if it’s just about sex, well - I suspect there’s no shortage of people who’d be very glad to fuck you. So why me? Or do you just want to ruin me, finish what you started when you tricked and took advantage of me?”

His voice is low and carefully controlled. “You know that’s not what this is, chérie. You know that.”

You push away from the table and stand to face him, flinging down your linen napkin. “So what, then, is it?”

He stares at you and his expression shifts, from glowering to openness. Mouth slightly ajar, he seems to be struggling to find the words.

He can’t even bring himself to say it. Coward.

“I see. Good night, Thief.”

***

Your return flight is booked for the day after tomorrow, and there’s no way you could afford a last-minute ticket for an earlier departure. As you complete your nighttime routine and slip into the guest bed, you resolve to make the most of an unexpected solo day in Paris, looking up current exhibitions and shows at the city’s various museums and galleries. 

You take a herbal sleeping tablet, just in case, and turn off the light.

When you wake in the morning, you find that your pillow is damp from the tears you wept in the night.

His bedroom door is still firmly closed as you pad down the hallway and to the main door. Exploiting you or not, he’d made it clear that he didn’t need you for today, the final stage in his plan. There’s a spare keyfob in the drawer of the small hall console table. You slip it in your bag and head out of the apartment and into the city.

***

Museums afford a kind of sanctuary: a quiet space for meditation, reflection, imagination, escape. On a day like today, they enclose you in a safe, comforting cocoon of art and beauty, helping to shield you from the world outside - and from the raging storm of your own thoughts and worries.

You flash your work ID at the entrance to the Petit Palais and are waved through, past the lines of tourists, by virtue of the international reciprocal entry schemes for museum staff. The current temporary show, on Paris in the first decades of the twentieth century, is just what you need by way of distraction, and you lose yourself in artwork after artwork, in no hurry to return to the apartment. 

At the museum’s garden café, you take your time over coffee and cake, occasionally joined by a tiny songbird who seems hell-bent on helping himself to your snack. His daring raids on your slice of carrot cake help to stop your mind from wandering back to the apartment, to him, and to his journey back to the chateau.

***

He’s gone when you get back. Just an envelope on the counter, addressed to you. Normal service, you think, resumed at last.

Chérie,

As planned, I’ve returned to the Deseine estate to finish what we started. I intend to return later tonight, or in the early hours, but promise me that if I do not return, you will take the flight tomorrow evening. 

You must not look for me. Promise me that.

I hope that I might see you before you leave, one way or the other. 

Know that I care for you, chérie. 

Midnight comes and goes with no sight or sound of him.

One. Two. Three. Nothing.

You close your eyes and force yourself to sleep.

***

He whispers to you in your dreams, over and over. He calls out to you. 

“Chérie?”

You open your eyes. In the half-light, you see him. Hair mussed, eyes wide, face streaked with dirt, stripped to the waist. 

He feels real to the touch: warm, solid, the softness of his middle, the strength of his arms and shoulders. His beard bristles so realistically under your lips that you could almost believe he was there.

“Chérie, I’m here. I’m back. I’m with you.”

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and pull him to you, wordlessly peppering his face with kisses before he wriggles down and nestles his head against your chest, holding you tight to him.

He seems unsettled, distressed, even. Perhaps it had been a narrow escape. Perhaps something had gone wrong. 

No matter. You envelop him with warmth and protection. The way he clings to you, needs you, starts to provide an answer to your questions about the nature of his feelings.

You kiss the top of his head and stroke the scruff on the side of his jaw. He pulls away for a moment to look up at you, all softness and awe and warmth. He motions as if to say something, then stops, pensive, and reaches up to kiss your mouth.

“My name is Alejandro.”

Find out more about the Lalique cire perdue technique here!

If you'd like to read more about the great Jewish art collecting families of pre-war France, I strongly recommend James McAuley's The House of Fragile Things and Edmund de Waal's Letters to Camondo.

[opal-owl-flight]

Aaand heres the complete visual guide for the Candlefolk variants!!

More abt them under the cut!

Candlefolk across the realms

A candlefolk’s appearance tends to change depending on the realm they were born from, as the ruins in each realm have materials and environments unique to their location. Whats shown are the common shapes, but Candlefolk can take on appearances different from what is presented (or look completely different from the appearance they took when they were born).

Isle: usually the same shade of bluish stone as the rocks found in the realm, or brown, like clay. Highly spiritual. Very serious about their purification duties.

Prairie: mossy folk with Manta features. Soft shape. Round. Many are born from large pots gaining sentience, though some are born from bells. Very in-tune with light creatures, and also plant life! Voices are like the tolling bells across the prairies.

Forest: Made from dark colored stone, metal, or fossilized wood (seems to be a light color, from what I can see in-game). Immune to rain (flame burns as strongly as a forge). Megatuna/whale features (like the one seen in the forest). Usually shy. Prefers the company of the forest/creatures rather than other sapients. Living forges that hide under their turtle-like shells to raise their temperatures high enough to melt all sorts of metals. Paddle-like feet to easily and quickly traverse and navigate the flooded woodland, and hammer out superheated metals. Surprisingly poetic...

Valley: Made of the russet stones, gold, stained glass, what have you. Have a more “carpe diem” lifestyle, compared to isle-borns. Have Racer manta features — long tail, helps steer. Quadwinged. They also have a fine mesh of "downy feathers" made of metal that help insulate them against the cold that would make their bodies too stiff to move. Movement makes these "feathers" clink and chime! It aids in their frequent dancing and performing...

Wasteland: made of the darkest stone or metal (helps blend in). Their fire burns lowly, but that grants them near- immunity from the dark creatures. Always on high alert towards the creatures that hunt them, helping other pilgrims find their way. Have dark creature features (horns, ridge, long tail); which usually helps them fight. Additionally, they tend to have long snouts like the krill to help them breathe the wasteland air.

Vault: made of that dark blue stone. Quiet and reserved, deep in study about the kingdom’s past. Have spirit manta features, made of decrepit memory cubes or the deep blue stones of the Vault. Tend to wear robes that cover most of their body.

Eden: the rarest kind, once upon a time. Only emerging when the other realms have been mostly healed and when new peoples returned to settle on them, establishing a new kingdom. Jointed limbs and features, like a mannequin, allow them to swap parts out easily and shake off most injuries (as the rock rain still happens occassionally.) Appearances vary wildly beyond that.

[datotherd00d]

RSA Fanmade Dorms

Thought I should share a fleshed-out(ish) list of dorms that me, @chohouse , and @dizastermango made for Royal Sword Academy. Honesty thought that RSA should get more love (plus it was a lot of fun to make this, especially since I have some OCs that go to RSA). Also I made a Pinterest board for the dorms, the dorm uniforms, and their ceremonial robes.

The overall inspiration of these dorms were the supporting characters in the stories of the Big 7, but it’s the characters that were associated with the heroes. Now with that out of the way, here is the list!

- Iterspeculo: Spirit of Carpe Diem

Themed off of The Mad Hatter

Pronounced as “I-ter-speh-coo-loh”

Carpe Diem roughly translates to “Living in the Moment”

The complete opposite of Heartslabyul when it come to organization and tidiness

Basically an eyesore, and constant game of ‘Eye-Spy’

Dorm name was made with: ‘Speculo’ which is Latin for mirror, ‘Iter’ meaning journey, so it completely comes out to ‘Journey (through the) Looking Glass’ 

- Baoheart: Spirit of Mindfulness

 Themed off of Rafiki

Pronounced as “Bau-hart”

ALL DORM MEMBERS LIVE IN A GIANT BAOBAB TREEHOUSE! It’s pretty cool ngl

This dorm is SO chill and can be wise. They have a lot of relaxing activities like yoga and meditation sessions. Literally living that Hakuna Matata life 

Dorm name revolved around the tree that Rafiki lived in which is a Baobab tree, and the heart because it sounded better and more whimsical than tail or fang lmao

- Plimsoll: Spirit of Sharing

Themed off of Scuttle

Pronounced as “Plim-sl”

Nautical and sea port vibes with this dorm (ngl was hard to figure out, so I mixed it together)

Heavily community based! Everyone helps everyone out because why not? The more the merrier! 

Literally a silly headcanon, but the common room has a deep brown wood flooring to imitate a ship and someone made the joke of it looking like shit, so now everyone calls the common room the “Poop Deck”

Name came from the Plimsoll Line of a ship, which is a mark on the hull of a ship indicating how deep a cargo ship can travel safely to trade goods

- Sadjinn: Spirit of Friendship

Themed off of The Genie

Pronounced as “Sah-jin”

Kind of similar to Scarabia, but it has that overall “goodness” to it

Not as many parties, but still very much so community based

It’s a more creative dorm that leans more into enjoying what you have and making the most out of it with the people you have. Literally if Kalim was a dorm it would be this one.

Also, the Cave of Wonders is where the dorm resides, and it is surrounded by a beautiful oasis and small forest of sorts

Name came from: ‘Sadiq’ meaning friend in Arabic, and a Djinn (Jinn) is another name for the mythical creature of a genie (this is under the pretense of fiction and fantasy rather than the Arabic/Islamic religious aspect of Jinns) 

- Septierre: Spirit of Humility

Themed off of the Seven Dwarves

Pronounced as “Sep-tea-error”

Such a hardworking yet humble dorm. Like omg- this dorm is that meme that is like “It’s not much, but it’s honest work”

COTTAGECORE VIBES!!!

Literally all of the produce and materials for the school is from this dorm! The students in this dorm are basically all in agriculture and geology, it is wholesome and very simple living

Mostly flatlands with cottage dorm rooms/dorm housing. It’s cute ngl. A lot of orchards and mines and woodland creatures

Name came from: ‘Septem’ which is Latin for 7, and ‘Pierre’ roughly translates to ‘stone/rock’

- Fulgyros: Spirit of Growth

Themed off of Philoctetes (Phil)

Pronounced as “Fuhl-ger-ose”

Dorm of perseverance and growth (emotionally, physically, and mentally. Literally in every possible aspect)

Basically the gym bros/fraternity of the school lmao, but don’t worry, they’re usually himbos. Just want what’s best for everyone and will help achieve that goal

All Ancient Greece influences, kind of a mix between Mount Olympus and Phil’s home/training area. Ethereal and godly vibes with white and earth tones. One of the more pristine dorms, especially with their mostly white uniforms

Name comes from: ‘Fulger’ which is the Latin root word for ‘lightning’, the suffix ‘-ysos’ from Dionysus who Satyrs would be associated with (along with Pan), and ‘-os’ from mythos

- Rosasci: Spirit of Harmony

Themed off of The Three Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merrywheather)

Pronounced as “Roh-zeh-see"

Spirit comes from the three fairies working together to raise Aurora despite how chaotic it was. They worked in harmony together and were able to make things work. So that same vibe of responsibility and harmony of oneself and community is prominent in this dorm.

All roses imagery with no thorns. Thorns are a big nono in this dorm

Was another difficult dorm to figure out, but then again this whole school can be viewed as pretentious, so why not add in that overly sweet ‘goody-two-shoes’ aspect lol

However, this dorm is so pretty and very Fairycore with flowy and whimsical uniforms and decorations

Best way to describe the dorm vibe is the Moors in the first and second Maleficent movie

Name came from: ‘Rosaceae’ which is the botanical family name for roses. It’s a simple but pretty name.

- Bonus HCs

Snow White’s Wishing Well is the magical object(?) that sorts students into their dorms

The way it works is that you have to sing a tune or something into the well, and the well sings back to you what dorm you are sorted into. Note that the voice singing back is a collection of voices that are in perfect harmony. It’s creepy if you think about it because do those voices belong to anyone??? Who knows.

Also, students arrive to RSA in a brilliant, blinding white, pumpkin carriage drawn by horses, pegasi, unicorns, even comically large seahorses/dolphins, you name it! It’s magic- anything is possible.

Honestly think of the flying carriages in Sophia the First, and bam it’s that, but a white pumpkin! 

Everyone is alert and awake during their journey to the school, with various magical accommodations to make the trip as pleasant as possible. Hungry or thirsty? No worries, a menu with simple summoning spells fixes that. Bored? Don’t sweat- free wifi in the carriage AND a hidden movie screen to watch the latest block buster starring Vil Schoenheit  and Neige LeBlanche. It’s basically a first class seat on a magical airplane. Straight up comfort.

However, once you do arrive to the school and land, your luggage disappears (of course there is a notice before you land). Once you get your dorm and room assigned, your luggage will already be there waiting for you

Students are dropped off towards the back of the castle where staff greets the new students on the outskirts of a whimsical tree line. Upon crossing into the forest, students are magically dressed in their ceremonial robes and matching makeup . They all flood into a large whimsical pavilion full of seats (think of the one from Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses) that surrounds a very well known wishing well

After the ceremony, the headmaster opens portals to the Heart of the Castle where the main portals are.

RSA has a similar portal system to NRC, but the room is full of really pretty ports that fit the decorum of each dorm/school location. It’s located in the heart of the castle, which is easy access for the students and staff

That is basically all of the headcanons I had, and I hope it helps in any creativity process, or was enjoyable! Let me know if you want any more HCs or have any comments, questions, or concerns! It was a blast making this!

Also! If you want to use any of this for OCs or fanfics, please go ahead!! Just please link this post and like/reblog 🖤 I appreciate those who want to use this! Thank you!

[tmwwriting]

Snippets of a fic I’ll never write: (3/x)

Matt Graver x small town reader

The diner is small, nondescript: the standard four walls and a dingy vinyl floor, every surface peppered with dings and scrapes and carelessness. There's a sign for it just before the freeway off-ramp, generic and unpromising: a deep blue stamped with cartoon cutlery and a fuel pump for the gas station across the street. An H for hotel is on there, too. That one's a lie, but there is lodging, in the dingy strip mall motel further up or the RV parks stashed around the valley. The types that want cash, the paper per diem. All of it—lies included—make up the tiny little holler for passengers who can't wait for the bigger city just up the interstate. Families, mostly, on road trips with children who overestimate how long they can hold it. Some tourists—usually hippies with too much sense of adventure. Van life, whatever that is. Shirking the ocean for the mountain, waves for land. They all move on quickly, though.

No one ends up here on purpose.

The people that do are the people who get stuck. They stay and pretend it's a choice, like pitching a tent by the side of a car-wreck. There’re houses splattering the dirt roads that branch off from Main Street, fences made of wire, posts stuck haphazardly every so often. Bent and wrecked, a hit and run of neglect that means nothing ever looks new around here. It may have been a sparkling little town at one point, a postcard-cute sampling of good ol' country living. Now it's been painted over with a filter called Abandoned.

No police department, nor fire. The county handles all that. "Better for the budget", as though bureaucrats have ever concerned themselves with line items like Affordable Housing or Cost of Living. None of you are worth the investment, is what they mean. Even the YIMBYs and the NIMBYs don’t bother playing tug-of-war with this scrap heap.

But it's enough. It's a life, anyway. Small and boring, a persistent trickle from dilapidated water faucets, tinted brown with oxidized metal. Boil it, and you're good. You've always been an accomplished pretender, anyway. Daydreamer. You have to be, before the day-in, day-out monotony makes you forget what real music is supposed to sound like. But the chime of the diner door brings you back to reality with a thud each and every time, marks the end of whatever symphony was filling your head, like a conductors last grand flourish. By now you have a shorter distance to fall—you know not to stray too far away. Hurts less, this way, as you leave the towel at the half wiped-down table, and head out to the front.

He saunters into this life with the noon day sun, shoulders set like he owns the place. Modestly dressed, an untucked shirt that might have looked nice when he first bought it five years ago. It all fits well, though—certainly not new, but taken care of. No accessories other than utilitarian ones. Watch. Sunglasses.

He's handsome, is your first thought, even though the glasses’ frames cut harshly into the outline of his face. Strong features though, the ones that are visible. Proud forehead, arrogant chin. It juts out when he notices you staring, cheekbones widening in a little grin as he moves the glasses to his collar.

He doesn't wait for you either, just settles himself into a seat at the counter with a view of the parking lot. You wipe your hands on your jeans, hoping there's no damp imprints now, cheeks hot as you approach him like he's the sun. He slides over, eyeing you, and doesn't look away even as you set the plastic menu in front of him. 

He opens with, "Always this hot around here?" Not the worst line you've ever heard, and dropped so confidently you know that's just the way he talks; there’s no stakes in this for him.

"Not even real summer yet,” you counter. “Schools are barely out. You just wait another month, month and a half. Place’ll turn into a sauna. Now, can I start you off with something to drink?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Coffee, but—that thing it? Might need something stronger."

He tilts his head to get a look over the counter. The little drip machine looks as depressing as everything else in the place, but the bitter liquid it spews out can make a horseshoe stand upright. You don’t have time to defend the thing’s honor—just perk upright, hands on your hips. 

"The closest bar is ten miles down the road. Only thing stronger I've got is the bleach under the sink." 

"Stick with the coffee, then." He smiles. "No tiny little cups, ma'am. You bring that thing out in a punch bowl." 

Out of spite you search for the daintiest little teacup you can find in the place. It's certainly not a punch bowl, but he toasts you with it when you set it in front of him, like you've brought him the grail. 

You're bringing another table a refill of ketchup when you see him down the thing like a shot. Doesn’t even make a face, though you’ve seen grown men sputter and cough and choke on the bitterness. You quirk an eyebrow and go back to your cleaning.

He doesn’t want anything else—checking in a few times afterwards only gets you dismissed with grins and a wave of a hand. Finally, he asks for another cup, about thirty minutes after he finished the first. And then he stays, eyes now stuck to the TV up on the wall, wires duct taped strategically out of sight behind it.

Wiping down the counter a few spots next to him is a tad obvious, perhaps, but it lets you watch the news with him: big thick chyron about missing hikers; stone faced reporters with grim tones; a cut away to the grieving families issuing statements, huddled outside what looks like the county sheriff’s office. 

"Awful, all that,” you pretend you’re saying to no one in particular. “Didn't use to be so bad a few years ago. Now people going missing, just on trips to the Park. Even on private land, like a couple months ago. They find ‘em sometimes…after.” 

"Yeah, I imagine AKs shoved in their face didn't make it into the home movie."

He says it so flatly you almost wonder if you misheard. It’s the tone you’d have taken with a cashier who insists on chatting to you about your day, not grisly murders up in the hills. 

But then he grins and stands up, slaps down what you can tell is already a disproportionately high tip, and nods to you as the sunglasses come back on. 

“Excellent coffee here, though. Gonna remember that.” 

The door chimes again—it can’t tell an exit from an entrance—but this time there is no thud of disappointment, no bitter fading of your daydreams as reality bleeds through. Just a thin sheen of dampness in your palms, and a jolt stronger than any caffeine patch as you pocket the tip and the note he left, the news story still playing in the background. 

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 𝓨𝓾𝓾?: 𝓒𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮

This is a list outlining which of my OC's would judge each Culinary Crucible, between Yuliya and Yuurio. This includes what type of judge they are for each one, with the categories being lenient, reasonable, and strict.

𝓨𝓾𝓵𝓲𝔂𝓪 𝓒𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼:

⋆ In Pursuit of Eggcellence (Ruggie and Malleus) - Reasonable

⋆ A Starch Difference (Rook and Cater) - Lenient

⋆ Noodling Around (Floyd and Sebek) - Lenient

⋆ Cream of the Crop (Leona and Epel) - Reasonable

⋆ Encounter with Rice (Azul and Ortho) - Lenient

𝓨𝓾𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓸 𝓒𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼:

⋆ Raising the Steaks (Riddle and Silver) - Lenient

⋆ The Spice of Life (Kalim and Trey) - Lenient

⋆ The Beaning of Life (Lilia and Jade) - Strict

⋆ Carp-e Diem (Deuce and Jamil) - Reasonable

⋆ Pepper Pandemonium (Idia and Ace) - Strict

Yuliya and Yuurio participate in their own Culinary Crucible, called Sweet Victory, dealing with recipes that use sugar (white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, etc)

Yuliya has experience cooking and baking, and follows the recipes given. Yuurio has never cooked or baked a day in their life and refuses to follow the recipes, doing things their own way.

Edit: I forgot the Culinary Crucible Sweet Revolution (with Vil and Jack) was a thing. So just pretend that Yuliya and Yuurio are having their Culinary Crucible Sweet Victory at the same time as Sweet Revolution lol ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[slutburn]

siantmiller: VENETIA played by Alison Oliver in Emerald Fennell's @saltburnfilm

•

Hair and Make-Up Design

•

Emerald's character description and 2006-7 pop youth culture, blended with entitlement and vulnerability, led the design process.

•

Reading the script, the grunginess of a noughties era Kate Moss and the rock-chic of Georgia May Jagger were in my mind's eye. See Venetia playing drunk tennis in killer heels, a disco inspired one-piece and a cigarette in hand!

•

Venetia just had to be a teenage model-type with brittle, bleached hair, dark roots and a tons of period authentic, and noticeable, bonded hair extensions.

•

Taking Alison's shoulder length, light brown hair, her transformation began with the colour and extensions, allowing time before filming for the colour to lift away from any kind of 'salon' vibe to a mucky regrowth with deliberate split ends.

•

Make-Up hinged around grungy kohl eyeliner, frosted lips, imperfect fake tan, bronzer and chipped nails. Eyebrows were lifted with tint.

•

A cluster of star tattoos on Venetia's hand mirror those of her bother Felix, taken from the family crest. There's a lightning bolt on her ankle and an inner arm linear tattoo in the same place as Felix's 'carpe diem! A far- east gap year kind of tat, not obviously literal, my design was inspired by the 'shepherd's pie' scene. A play on words, I hand-wrote the 'Pi' sequence 3.14159265359 in a made up font, which was then abstracted to the final design using ProCreate. You'd never know but the detail is there! On her shoulder blade is a rose tattoo created in the style of Sailor Jerry.

•

All of which reflect Venetia's brittle character, masked by everyday dress-up, affording Emerald the detail for close-ups with a 1:33 format.

•

All power to the incredible @alisonjoliver for allowing me to transform her hair into a Venetia reality

•

Brilliant application by @ellieptoms Colour and xtns @lottiehairldn

Venetia's original tattoo designs prepared for in-house printing with ProCreate by nabhuss

[witch-oftheflowers]

Blue Collar AU! Simon and Ximena~

AN: It's happening! Let's go I wanna see how these two are with their family if they didn't enter the military. And if they got together- enjoy!

Masterlist

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Early morning. Like always the pair woke up.

Simon's brown eyes stared at the ceiling as he debated to even get up. He rubbed his eyes a bit as he hum.

"Couldn't sleep papi?" Ximena's soft voice asked. As she rolled over a bit, her curls were in braids. Softly she was getting out the bed her hair was a mess as she did toss and turn often.

Simon nods his head as he ran a large hand through his buzzed short hair. His eyes shut for a second as he was thinking.

"Twas a bit 'arsh. But I'll manage." He got out the bed. He had a soft belly, but his built was still lean. He was fit due to his physically demanding job. He didn't mind it though as he was providing for his wife and kids-

"How's the little bugger doing?" He asked her as he was scratching his ear. Sleep was still clinging to him as he went into the restroom first.

Ximena scoffed as she finally got on her feet.

"Not gonna let the pregnant lady go first gringo??" She teased him as she started to rummage into her dressers. Grabbing he great scrubs along with a tank top for underneath.

Setting them on the bed she went out to the kitchen and made them both a cuppa.

Simon came out as he stretched a bit.

"Mamas where you at?" He called out

"Kitchen-" she coed to him as she was rubbing her stomach

He was dressed quickly. In his dark blue jeans, a long sleeve thermal black shirt. And his usual plaided long sleeve shirt, also black. His scuffled bear was noticable as he gave her a kiss.

"Little bug is a lot..but I'll manage.." she mention as he nods. Remembering he did ask her

"I'm sorry. Wish these buggers weren't all energetic." He said his voice gravely and worn..but he did what he did for the family they made. He'll do whatever the must.

"go ahead get ready. I'll make you cuppa proper." He smiled to her as he swat her arse. Letting her giggles reach his ears as she vanished from his sight.

He was pondering in his head if he should tell her. Someone he knew long ago asked if he was interested in becoming a firefighter.

He bit his lip as he knew it would bring in more for them. A bit riskier for him even. But he didn't mind the risk. He was thinking of his wife and kids. And with a fifth one on the way. He knew he needed to do better. His wifes an intelligent woman. A nurse but working her way to become a doctor. He wanted to help cover the school bills for her and the kids later on-

Ximena came back in wearing her uniform. Her hair was pulled into a bun as she gladly took the cup from him

"Gracias~ such a proper man" she teased him as she gave him a kiss. He smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers

"Xi.. I got something to tell ya." He said as she took a sip. Enjoying the taste of the honey he added.

"Hmmm? Dieme? What's wrong?" She asked softly as she glanced to him with worried eyes. Her eyebrows were knit together as she was taking in his words

"What if.. I 'ad a change in careers.." he stated as she watched him nervously sip his mug. The way his eyes were crinkling in the corners she could tell he was anxious

"For what? It seems like you've been thinking mi amor. Tell me.." she edge him on as she placed a comforting hand over his.

"A firefighter?" He said as more a question. He looked to her eyes seeking an answer before she spoke

"I wouldn't mind whatever you do. I just want you to know the risks and dangers. Besides that I wouldn't mind it Simon." She said as she gave him a firm smile.

"Whatever you decide just let me know. I'll cheer you on love. Be your personal cheerleader~" she teased him in the end as she pinched his cheeks

He smiled as he gave her a big wet kiss. Softly pulling her in for an embrace. He tickled her side and stomach a bit as she let a laugh out.

"You know what you do to me? You're to good for me Mama's. Way to good.." he whispered and teased her. Softly he smiled as he pepper kisses all over her chub cheeks

"Aye stop it- I'ma piss myself!" She swat his arm as he pulled away laughing..his deep chuckle filled her ears. Quickly he ran away towards the door

"I'll see you tonight-!" He echo the words out as he laced his shoes. Trying to avoid his wife's rage.

"Tonight my love~" she coed to him as she smiled.

The sound of footsteps filled the house as the front door closed.

The four kiddos came out as they smiled to their mommy. Three girls and a boy.

"Ok niños! Grandma and Grandpa are coming over. " She announced as they for excited.

Another exciting day for the kids ahead. And the two parents that love them. Yeah they'll figure it out with a fifth one